“Being a missing-nin is… complicated,” Hazō said. “None of us wanted to become missing-nin. Not to say there are people who wake up in the morning and go ‘I know, I think I’m going to become a hated fugitive today’, but in our case we were just genin who got caught up in the machinations of some power-hungry jōnin. The first we knew of our supposed betrayal was when we were suddenly running for our lives through hostile territory with hunter-nin on our tail.”
Yamanaka nodded.
“It’s nothing like being an ordinary ninja. You have to rely on each other absolutely. There’s no support network, no village to fall back to when things get tough.
“But you want to know the strangest thing, the most unexpected thing we discovered?”
“What’s that, Kurosawa?”
“Being a missing-nin is more like being a civilian than a village ninja.”
Yamanaka stared at him. “Kurosawa, did you just compare yourself to a civilian?”
“I did. Out there, in the world beyond the world’s richest, most powerful village, there’s no support network either. No ninja to turn to for help. You have to work from dawn to dusk, every day, just so you can feed yourself and those who depend on you.
“Death is a hunter-nin never more than a step away. If your brother went out hunting and hasn’t come back by nightfall, he’s dead. If a chakra monster breaks through the palisade and goes on a rampage, that could be half the village dead. If your child’s fallen ill and doesn’t get better on their own, your child is dead.”
Yamanaka didn’t understand. He could see it in her eyes.
“You probably think ninja have the most dangerous lives because we fight all the time. That’s not true. Civilian lives are every bit as dangerous, except they don’t have a ninja’s power to defend themselves. My team has killed chakra monsters by the dozen in our travels. A normal civilian can’t kill one. Do you know why we wipe out bandit gangs in suppression missions? It’s because if you leave them to grow, they can massacre entire villages—just like that. What do you think happens in places where people can’t hire ninja?”
Yamanaka shook her head. “It can’t be like that everywhere, Kurosawa. Maybe you happened to pass through some really awful hellhole on your way here, but come on.” She gestured around herself. “If the world was really that bad, somebody would be doing something about it. Otherwise there’d be no civilians left.”
“At this rate, someday there won’t,” Hazō said grimly. “I’m not making this up as a scare story, Yamanaka. I wish I could show you some of the places we’ve seen. Though I bet we could find villages like that within as little as half an hour’s travel of Leaf.”
Yamanaka raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me on a date, Kurosawa?”
Crap. This was one of those questions where saying no could have implications as huge and catastrophic as saying yes, wasn’t it? And you only got one chance to give the right answer. Why did this stuff keep happening to him, and why did it have to happen all at once?
Life would be so much simpler if only he was into boys the way Keiko was into girls.
“That’s… not where I was going with this,” he said carefully.
But Yamanaka was still watching him closely. His deflection hadn’t been enough.
Crap crap crap. What was he supposed to say next? What would Noburi say?
“If I was going to ask you out on a date, I’d pick a place I thought would make you happy, not one that would make you sad.”
Yes! Smooth save, Kurosawa Hazō. You can totally do this flirting thing.
This is the flirting thing, right?
“Still,” he gave her a reassuring smile, “there is one piece of good news we’ve found. All of this horror is really easy to fix, if somebody would just care. I have the Multiple Earth Wall Technique, which I mostly use to defend myself from kunai and explosions, but in a matter of minutes I can erect strong stone walls around the village which will protect it far better than anything the villagers could build in a month. Noburi’s still a medic-nin trainee, but he’s fixed up injuries and deformities that would otherwise last a lifetime. You should have seen the smiles on the civilian children’s faces. Some of them wouldn’t have been able to smile if it wasn’t for him.
“So that’s what it’s like being a missing-nin, at least for us. Trying to make the world a better place is hard, not because it takes some kind of incredible effort, but because there’s so much world and so few of us.
“But it’s also more rewarding than anything else I’ve ever done. I’m not saying I enjoy being hounded across the continent by brutal killers for a crime I didn’t commit, but if the Sage of Six Paths came to me tomorrow and offered to turn back the clock… I think I’d choose to stay the person I am now.”
Yamanaka’s mouth was open slightly, and her pupils were wide. Hazō’s intuition was giving him a distinct sense of “something important is about to happen”.
“Ino! Kurosawa! Get moving or we’re going to Yakiniku Q without you!”
The moment, whatever it had been, vanished in a flash.
“You heard Chōji,” Yamanaka grinned. “C’mon, last one there has to pay for dessert!”
Hazō reached deep within himself and drew upon the hidden wells of motion-enhancing power he had engraved into his Iron Nerve. His pride as a Kurosawa, but more importantly his team’s budget, would not allow him to lose.
-o-
“It’s the simplicity that matters,” Hazō insisted, waving a pair of tongs in the air for emphasis. Yamanaka seemed to have lost interest in him as the meal progressed, leaving him and Keiko hotly debating the merits of lists with a sceptical Nara.
“You can make an exhaustive list with minimal cognitive effort, then pare it down without losing the hierarchical relationships or reducing information density. And the most important part is how easy it is to read. Do you know how much effort I’ve wasted trying to get the rest of my team interested in more sophisticated means of data management?”
“For clarity,” Keiko added, “Hazō has persisted in his masochistic efforts far beyond what a sensible person would attempt, and it remains a matter of eternal wonder to me how he continues to interact with apathetic listeners without at any point committing murder.”
Nara shrugged. “Generally, it’s best not to bother. If you need someone to do something badly enough, you use behaviour modelling and indirect emotional triggers. Actually trying to interact with people as rational agents is pointlessly draining, because most of the time they’re not. Assumptions, miscommunications, taking offence at pointless things… I would much rather read a good book.”
Hazō hesitated. He was still a little embarrassed to talk about his technique to a stranger. But on the other hand, having somebody else understand…
“Nara, there’s something our team’s been trying in order to eliminate this problem. We call it the Clear Communication Technique.”
Nara’s mouth was full of barbecue, but he gave Hazō a “go on” look.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” Hazō said in his best door-to-door salesman voice.
“Keiko, I perceive that you have a fair amount of uneaten meat on your plate which you have not touched for several minutes. I am not making any kind of judgement about your appetite or eating habits, but if you’ve decided you are not going to eat the meat, may I take it and do so myself?”
“Yes, Hazō, I permit you to take the meat from my plate. Thank you for asking politely.”
Nara finished his food. “I can see where it's clearer than conventional communication, but it seems like a lot of trouble to go to for minimal gain.”
Hazō was ready for this objection. “All right, substitute ‘I’d like to eat your meat’ with ‘I’d like to offer help with your extremely sensitive emotional situation’. Keiko, if you’d be so kind?”
“Hazō, I am concerned that the amount of time and energy you invest in making lists and talking about them reflects a growing addiction. I do not believe that an addiction would reflect on you as a person in any way, but if it negatively impacts on your well-being, then I would like to offer whatever assistance I can in helping you break the habit. I request that you set aside some time to reflect on whether you may be a list addict, and also consider seeking advice from more qualified individuals such as Inoue-sensei. I wish to reiterate that I do not consider such an addiction a failure of character, but rather an unfortunate illness which would benefit from swift treatment lest the symptoms intensify and cause you suffering.”
Hazō goggled.
“I… uh…”
Oh, right, the demonstration.
“Thank you for your concern, Keiko. I do not believe my behaviour is addictive, but since I trust your judgement as a matter of general principle, I will give the matter serious thought. If I feel any uncertainty over whether I am a list addict, I will speak to others who know me well, including Inoue-sensei, in order to obtain their input. Should I conclude that your evaluation is correct, I will of course take all possible steps to cure the addiction, at which time I will be sure to call on your support. I appreciate you looking out for me, and am grateful that you are prepared to bring up such sensitive issues for my benefit. Please continue to do so if any arise in the future.”
They both turned to see Nara’s reaction.
Nara was busy rummaging through his equipment pouch.
“Do that again. I need to take notes.”
-o-
“I’d like to go to the library next,” Hazō told Nara as the waitress took away their plates. “If there are many, could you recommend a good one?”
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Right now I just want to see what kind of books are available, though if any of them have a copy of the Yumehara histories…”
“Actually,” Nara reached into his pouch awkwardly and drew out a weighty tome, “I took the liberty of bringing Volume I with me. You don’t have to borrow it if you don’t want to, of course. I just thought you might…”
“Thank you, Nara!” Hazō beamed. “That’s really considerate of you. Of course I’d like to borrow it.”
“Yes, well, it occurred to me that in your position you wouldn’t be able to get borrowing rights from any of the public libraries, and the History of the Elemental Nations books reward heavy investment. You wouldn’t be able to appreciate them properly if you read them in snatches in between other activities. This is my personal copy, so please take good care of it.”
“Really, Nara, thank you.” Hazō had a thought. “Since you’re such an avid reader, would you be able to tell me the range of books I can expect to find in a good library?”
“Sorry,” Nara shook his head. “I have my own copies of a few particularly treasured volumes, but most of my reading comes from the clan library. It has every volume collected by the Nara Clan since its foundation, so going outside would be more trouble than it was worth.”
“Every volume since its foundation?” Keiko echoed distantly. “Then since you have unrestricted access, would it be possible—“
“It wouldn’t,” Nara said sharply. “I don’t exactly know you that well yet, and besides, given who you are, my father could never allow it. To be frank, from your position you’d have to marry into the clan to be allowed into our library.”
Keiko gave him a contemplative look.
“No. No no no. Don’t even think about it. There is nothing in this world more troublesome than women.”
-o-
“Inoue-sensei, can I have a word in private?” Hazō asked Inoue-sensei quietly.
“Sure.” Inoue-sensei raised her voice. “Sarutobi, can you give me five minutes? I need to give my student a chewing-out for poor manners!”
“Inoue-sensei!”
“You were being enthusiastic at a Nara. That is poor manners. Your energy levels to a Nara are like Rock Lee’s energy levels to you.
“So what’s up?”
“Um,” Hazō squirmed. “I need your advice.”
“If you’re trying to decide how to court Ino, you’re actually doing well on your own. You have a sort of earnest charisma that comes out when you’re making your speeches, and the old ‘make them question their view of the world, then hit them with solid conviction’? That’s an advanced seduction technique, and you pulled it off like a pro.”
“No, that’s not—wait, you were listening?”
Inoue-sensei shrugged unrepentantly. “Just making sure you don’t say the wrong thing and get us all killed.”
“Uh, anyway, this isn’t about Ino. It’s about Akane. Inoue-sensei… I think I like her, and I don’t know what to do.”
Inoue-sensei gave him a sardonic look. “Well, it’s about time you figured it out.”
Hazō blinked. “You mean you knew?”
The look turned pitying. “Hazō, of course I know. Noburi knows. Keiko knows. Pandā knows. The only person who doesn’t know is Kagome, and that’s because he thinks romance is a form of undefined behaviour and treats it accordingly.”
Hazō blushed.
“Then can you help me? I don’t know the first thing about romance and I have a feeling I’m going to be naturally bad at it. I know I’m supposed to figure this stuff out on my own, but this Akane we’re talking about. I absolutely can’t afford to get this wrong, so while I have you, I need to use you.”
Inoue-sensei’s mouth opened, then closed again.
“Yes, Hazō,” she said slowly. “I can see where your smooth-talking skills might need a little work.”
She ran a hand through her hair.
“All right. The question is: what do you want? Do you want to date her, boy and girl, and try to make your bond deeper in profound ways you can’t even imagine yet? Do you want to just stay friends, because being with her is more important than risking losing her in the horrible, agonising mess that love can become? Do you want something in the middle, without the reliabilities and restrictions of conventional labels? Or maybe you want to make this poly, and bring in Ino or some other girl you meet, and embrace the glorious complications that result?”
“I don’t know,” Hazō said. “I don’t know how to know. I just know that Akane matters to me. I want her to be happy. I want to be with her. It’s like nothing’s changed inside me, and at the same time everything has. Does that make sense?”
Inoue-sensei gave a forlorn smile. “If only love was always that simple.
“Well, Hazō, if you don’t know where you’re headed, I can’t tell you how to get there. But I can give you some general pointers.
“Be honest about your feelings. With yourself. With her. Don’t play games. Adults spend all their time playing games, and then we end up alone with broken hearts and wonder what went wrong.
“You’re in a difficult, unstable situation. She’s in hospital and she’s unhappy. You have to make a call—will hearing your feelings now help her or hurt her? Be sensitive to her mood. Don’t throw all this at her when she’s not ready, but don’t miss the moment either. In love, timing is everything.
“Whether you talk to her now or later, talk to her. Don’t make it a declaration. You two are smart, mature for your age, and already close friends. You can work out the best way to move forwards together.
“Don’t assume you have to figure everything out straight away, or that the form your relationship takes now needs to be the form it’ll always have. You’re going to grow, both of you, and your feelings will change, again and again, and you don’t have get it all right first time round.
“Oh, and don’t rush the physical stuff, either. That gets real complicated real fast, and generally teenage girls will want to take it slower than you expect.
“Normal teenage girls, anyway,” she added to herself. Hazō was so busy turning a deep crimson he nearly missed it.
“That… should do for now. In short, be honest, pay attention to her feelings, and don’t make assumptions about anything. And take advice from anybody called ‘Heartbreaker’ with a pinch of salt.”
Hazō smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much, Inoue-sensei.”
“Any time, kid. Now shoo. I have things to think about.”
As Hazō went off to rejoin the group, he briefly heard Inoue-sensei mutter, “Damn, this is going to get me disqualified for sure”.
-o-
“Hey, guys,” Noburi skipped down the steps of the hospital’s main entrance. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” Hazō allowed, doing his best not to sound too excitable in front of Nara. “How was your first day?”
“Oh, it was great! Yakushi-sensei put a lot of effort into making sure I didn’t do anything that might be dangerous with my chakra system the way it is, and he asked me a bunch of questions about how I was settling in, and whether my teammates were OK. Keiko, he was particularly curious about you and Kagome, since you were so on edge when we first met him.”
Hazō opened his mouth to comment, but it struck him in the nick of time that it was probably not a good idea to discuss Dr Yakushi’s trustworthiness in front of Team Sarutobi.
“So did you cut up any interesting bodies?” he assayed innocent small talk.
“Nah, today was mostly theory. He tested me to see what I knew and what they consider general medical knowledge back in Mist. He made a point of not asking about any Wakahisa medical specialities, because he didn’t want to make me have to worry about keeping clan secrets. Oh, Hazō, he said he’d be in the old alchemy lab on the first floor if you wanted to talk to him.”
-o-
“Ah, Kurosawa!” Dr Yakushi waved him over. “Perfect. Would you mind doing me a small favour? This will be so much easier with the Iron Nerve.”
“What’s the favour?” Hazō asked cautiously.
“Oh, nothing important. Watch how I stir this pot, and then do it exactly the same way for a minute while I pour in the catalyst. I’d do it myself, but I’m not ambidextrous and I’ve already sent Wakahisa home for the day.”
Even if Hazō wanted to say no, there was no comfortable way of doing so. And besides, it was a perfectly ordinary request.
After a few corrections for speed and spoon position, Dr Yakushi left Hazō to it and began to pour a blue liquid into the pot, where it mixed with the red in an artistic spiralling pattern.
“What is this, exactly?”
“Oh, Solution Five-One-Seven Alpha,” Dr Yakushi said casually, glancing briefly from Hazō’s hand to his face.
“Is that anything special?”
“Not at all. Merely a random medical reagent of which we happen to be in short supply.
“That should do, Kurosawa. Thank you very much. If you are here to see Ishihara, please feel free to go.”
-o-
“Hi, Akane,” Hazō said. Why was he feeling nervous? This was his apprentice, one of the people he knew best in the world, and nothing had changed between them. What could there possibly be to be nervous about?
“Hi, Hazō-sensei.” Akane sat up straighter in bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“I haven’t been sleeping very well,” Akane confessed. “Funny, really, you’d think since I’m hardly doing anything else…”
“About that,” Hazō seized the opportunity. “We stopped by a bookshop recently, and they had this manga, The Amazing Adventures of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen. I was wondering if you might like something like that to read while you’re here, or maybe some other author you like, or some book you’ve read before and maybe would like to read again?”
“Thank you, Hazō-sensei,” Akane smiled. “I think I’d like that. Though my parents visited this morning, and they already brought a lot of my old books and manga. And I know the team funds were pretty bad before, and I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble…”
“It’s no trouble at all! Wait, your parents?”
“That’s right. I’ve made them worry so much…”
No good. She was starting to feel down again. Quick, say something.
“I’d love to meet your parents, Akane.”
His inner Inoue-sensei (oh, hell, when did he get one of those?) smirked at him shamelessly.
Akane’s expression did not improve. “I, um, don’t think that would be such a good idea right now, Hazō-sensei. They’re… well, angry with everyone in the team. They think it’s your fault I got hurt. I tried to explain that it wasn’t true, but my parents don’t listen very well when they get protective. I do want to introduce you to them, but I think right now it’s too soon. I’m sorry.”
Forget romance, the first thing Hazō needed was tips on how to make people feel better instead of worse.
“Did you have any other visitors?” he asked in desperate hope of changing the subject.
“Yes, actually,” Akane brightened. “Rock Lee and Maito Gai came to talk to me about believing in the Spirit of Youth and its powers of recovery. They said you sent them. That meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
“That’s OK.” He’d finally done something right!
Doing something right involved inflicting Rock Lee on someone. The universe was weird.
“Were they the way you remembered?”
Akane frowned. “They were… and they weren’t. I don’t know. Maybe I’m the one that’s changed?”
Hazō gave an understanding nod, despite not understanding at all.
“I sparred with Rock Lee, you know,” he moved to safer ground.
“You did?!” Akane leaned forward, then winced. “You and Rock Lee, fist to fist, immersed in the Springtime of Youth… oh, I really wish I’d been there to see it. What was it like?”
“So first he charged for me, head low,” Hazō demonstrated, “and I thought he was going for a bull rush. But then at the last second it was like he disappeared. Luckily, I’d already sensed something was off, and when I felt the hairs move on the back of my head…”
-o-
“He really said that?” Akane’s peals of laughter rang out like crystal bells. “That’s wonderful! It’s just like when he was giving a taijutsu demonstration to the Academy finalists, and he talked about pouring the seeds of youth into Uchiha Sasuke through the outflowing of his manly spirit—in front of the whole class! Oh, you should have seen the fangirls!”
“I, uh, have to ask, Akane, but does Rock Lee do that deliberately? Or is he really…” Hazō wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence without insulting Akane’s crush.
“Nobody knows,” Akane admitted. “There are rumours going around that he’s secretly a master of deception with an unbreakable façade, and that this is why he was put in a team with not just Hyūga Neji but Tenten herself… but you get rumours like that about all sorts of people. The one before that was about our year’s Nara, Shikamaru, being a once-in-a-generation genius who’d finished the Academy’s advanced tactics classes when he was eight just so he’d have more free periods to nap in.”
“Hyūga Neji, huh?” Hazō mentally rubbed his hands together with glee. “Let me tell you about Hyuga Neji…”
-o-
It was getting dark.
“Sorry, Akane,” Hazō tore himself away with the utmost reluctance. “I still need to get to the library before it closes. Before I go, is there anything you can think of that I could bring you? Maybe some games or puzzles to keep you entertained when you’re on your own?”
Wait, had he just accidentally made Akane sound like a small child?
But she either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. “I like logic puzzles. Ones like ‘how do you get a goat, a wolf and a wild cabbage across the river without the wolf eating the goat or the cabbage exsanguinating the wolf?’ or ‘how many spies can you get to turn each other before they realise they’re all spying for the same side?’”
Hazō found himself considering the situation analytically. "Why can’t the wild cabbage exsanguinate the goat?”
“It’s the bone armour. I’ve heard it’s thinner on domesticated goats because they get bred for wool and milk first, but it’s still enough to protect them from common predators.”
“Huh. Is there anything else you’d like?”
“If that expansion for Sealing Failure is out already, the one with the new ANBU investigators and special clue tokens, I’d love to see it. Or the solo play expansion for Civilian Burger. But if they’re too expensive, please don’t worry.”
Hazō waved her concern away. He’d find money for at least some of these things somewhere, even if he had to refine his Jiraiya-wrangling skills to perfection before he could do it.
Though there was one thing that didn’t necessarily cost any money at all.
“Say, Akane, are there any songs you particularly like? Because I was thinking of dusting off my old flute, and if there’s anything I could play for you...”
“You’d learn a song… just for me?”
“Sure,” Hazō said lightly. “It’s no big deal. The hard part is suppressing the Iron Nerve so you can make each performance unique, otherwise your music ends up soulless. But I used to practice a lot while I was home alone, so it shouldn’t be hard to pick up again. Besides, you’re not going to laugh at me if I make mistakes, are you?”
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“No, Hazō-sensei. I’m not going to laugh.”
“Then any requests?”
Akane spent a minute deep in thought.
“If it’s really all right… could you play me Tears of Red?”
“Sure thing. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He looked back on his way out the door. He couldn’t… even if it wasn’t time yet, he couldn’t say nothing. Not when she was going to be on her own again.
“Akane, you really do mean a lot to me.”
And then he left, flustered, without hearing her reply.
-o-
“So there I am,” Noburi said dramatically, “exposed, with no cover, standing with my back to Hyūga Neji. He’s stalking me slowly, steadily, silently. Or so he thinks. My senses, trained to superhuman accuracy over a year of evading Mist’s deadliest hunter-nin, can still hear the ripples his footsteps are forming on the water.
“I can’t turn around. As soon as the game is up, he’ll be able to strike me down with a single blow. So I keep facing forwards, pretending I’m all oblivious and vulnerable. He takes another step. Another. Then he lunges!”
Noburi thrust his hand out, fingers curled into a cruel, grasping claw.
“He thinks he’s got me for sure. After all, I have no chakra—next to him, I’m just a helpless civilian. I can’t even boost my muscles to get out of the way.
“But he’s underestimated me again. I sensed him coming. I know the right timing. And what he doesn’t know is that I learned three-dimensional combat in the deadliest battleground in the Elemental Nations… the Swamp of Death.
“I drop straight down into the water!” Noburi slammed his hands down, stopping just short of hitting the table. “Hyūga’s hand passes through the space I was an instant ago. He’s shocked. He hasn’t a clue what just happened. He looks exactly like this.” Noburi dropped his jaw, tilted his head and rolled his eyes in an expression of pure gormless bewilderment.
“That’s just the beginning. While he’s busy rubbing his two brain cells together, I spin in the water and grab!” Noburi twisted his torso, slashing his hand across the air. “I have his ankle—and down he goes!”
Noburi flailed comically, his mouth opening and closing like—ironically—a fish out of water.
“Now you might think that’s where the story ends. After all, as soon as Hyūga recovers, he’s going to go right for me, and I won’t be able to dodge in the water. But you’ve underestimated me just like he did.
“As he’s floundering, I call on the ancient Wakahisa arts that I mastered over the course of our travels, fine-tuned over endless battles with everything from spiderbears to megalodons to saxifrages. I know I only have one chance at this, and it takes perfect concentration—but I pull in the chakra he’s been spending on water walking, spin it between my two hands, and make it my own. Hyūga is my barrel now.”
Noburi put his hands out in front of him, as if holding a spherical seal bomb, then started to shake them as if the bomb was trying to get away.
“His chakra is twisting and thrashing in my hands. Like him, it’s vile and sloppy and lashing out at anything that comes near, and it’s twenty times stronger than everything I have in my body right now. A single mistake, a single moment of distraction, and it’s the end for me.
“But they don’t call me Iron Will Wakahisa for nothing. I master Hyūga’s chakra. I dominate it and take full control. And just in the nick of time, because Hyūga’s found his feet.
“He’s going for me. If I dodge, I’ll lose the chakra again. But if I don’t dodge, it’s all over. I only have time for one more move.
“That’s when I bring out my secret weapon. Hyūga’s underestimated me for the last time, because as he reaches for me, I pour all of that chakra into the legendary Water Whip Technique.
“Hyūga finally sees what I’m doing. He ducks to the left. He blocks.” Noburi hunched down and brought his arm up in a textbook open-palm high block. “But even with his Byakugan he can’t see what’s right in front of his nose.”
Noburi leaned towards the audience and put his hand to the side of his mouth as if confiding some great secret.
“The Water Whip… is a whip made out of water.
“It doesn’t zoom out towards him—it forms through the water next to him. Then before he can adjust, it curves around his block… and gently taps him on the back with a sticky tag.
“And that is how I beat Hyūga Neji on my own, without any chakra, on unknown terrain with no time to prepare.”
After that, there was nothing for it but to applaud.
-o-
Approximately a tenth of a second after the applause died down, there was a knock on the door.
“M-Maito Gai? I, uh, please come in,” Hazō stuttered.
“Thank you, thank you,” Gai beamed with his disturbingly sparkling smile.
“How long were you out there, just out of curiosity?”
“Oh, we didn’t want to interrupt such a riveting tale, and one different in so many interesting ways from Neji’s story.”
Hyūga followed Gai in, giving Noburi a glare that was the poisoned, exploding-tag-festooned shuriken of evil looks.
“Relax, Hyūga, I didn’t tell them about how you were so stunned you gulped down a mouthful of disgusting swamp water and pondweed. Or how you stamped your foot down and stormed off in a huff like a little girl who didn’t get the Princess Tsunade doll she wanted for Ascension Day. Or how you—”
“So what brings you here tonight, Gai?” Inoue-sensei interrupted as Hyūga’s hand began to inch towards his kunai holster.
“Asuma said you guys were having a gaming night, and I wondered if you’d mind letting us join in.”
“Is that so, Sarutobi?” Inoue-sensei was still smiling pleasantly, but for some reason Sarutobi adjusted his collar as if it was suddenly too tight for him.
“Gai caught up with me and asked if I was interested in spending tonight joining him and Lee for a male bonding session in the sauna! I had to explain why I was definitely too busy!”
“Well, it is how it is,” Inoue-sensei said politely, glancing quickly at the armchair in the corner, into which Kagome-sensei was digging himself like a panicked wildcat.
“Hazō, take over,” she whispered in Hazō’s ear as she retreated to take care of the desperately outnumbered sealmaster.
Hazō surveyed the room.
Akimichi was cheerfully helping himself to the snacks Kagome-sensei had made (after Inoue-sensei had pointed out that this was an opportunity to make the guests wonder if they were being poisoned, thereby putting them off balance before any potential betrayal).
Nara and Keiko were exchanging commiserating looks, while Yamanaka was looking thoughtfully between Hazō and Noburi for reasons Hazō couldn’t begin to guess at.
Gai had put an arm around Sarutobi’s shoulders in a comradely fashion, and Sarutobi seemed about as happy about this as one might expect.
Neji was on the verge of throwing himself at Noburi, while Noburi’s face and body language said louder than words, “Aww, aren’t you cute, trying to intimidate me like a big boy?”
Tenten had perched herself down on the arm of the sofa next to Keiko.
And Rock Lee? Rock Lee was advancing on Hazō with an unhealthy (or possibly too healthy) gleam in his eye.
“So,” Hazō nearly screamed, “who wants to play some very youthful board games?!”
-o-
When Prof. Yumehara got around to writing Volume V: The Fall of the Elemental Nations, he would begin with this moment, when Hazō foolishly allowed Inoue-sensei to “randomly” decide their teams of two.
Granted, at least he hadn’t ended up with Lee, but Nara managed to occupy the exact opposite end of the motivation spectrum. It would take the most brilliant of insights to come up with a way to make his partner stop drifting off to sleep and fight for real.
“You know,” Hazō observed offhandedly, “the sooner we win this, the sooner you can go home.”
Nara clenched his hand into a fist. “Let’s crush them.”
-o-
Keiko and Tenten nodded to each other expressionlessly and sat down side by side in a mirrored motion.
-o-
Inoue-sensei shifted closer to Gai on the sofa.
“Don’t worry,” she purred, “I have a firm grasp of strategy.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll appreciate my most youthful moves.”
-o-
“You,” Hyūga hissed. “Of all the filthy foreigners infesting Hidden Leaf, why did it have to be you?”
“What’s the matter, Hyūga? Can’t you manage teamwork unless it’s ‘teamwork’ with one of your fanboys?”
“Oh, that’s it. I’ll show you teamwork. I will cooperate your ass to victory with the full power of the Hyūga!”
“Cooperate my ass to victory?” Noburi repeated.
“Shut up,” Hyūga deflated slightly. “It made sense in my head.”
-o-
“Which is why, Ino, we have nothing to fear as long as the Power of Youth is on our side. You and I shall join forces and defeat our opponents, no matter how skilled they will be, with our superior youthfulness and blazing spirit! If there is any doubt in your heart…”
As Rock Lee went on with no sign of stopping, Yamanaka’s eyes once again flickered between Hazō and Noburi. She settled on Hazō, met his eyes and mouthed, “Help me!”
Hazō nodded to her as a knight errant accepting a quest.
-o-
“Looks like that leaves us, Chōji. The two sane men.”
“One sane man, Asuma-sensei. I decided to stop struggling and go with the flow a long time ago.”
-o-
Kagome-sensei, serving as referee, eyed them all balefully from his armchair, stroking his kunai like a fluffy white cat.
-o-
“No,” Rock Lee declared, “your backstabbing plan is most unyouthful, Ino. Instead, next turn we shall commit five ninja to Fang Country.”
“Why?” Yamanaka cried. “Why did you have to say this one out loud too?”
Akimichi and Sarutobi exchanged happy looks. Sarutobi started picking up pieces from their stockpile.
-o-
Hazō looked on helplessly as Team Keiten’s lone ninja slaughtered the Hazamaru army one by one by one. (It had been decided to use first names after nobody in the room was able to combine “Hyūga and Wakahisa” into something non-awful.)
“How are you rolling all those sixes?” he pleaded.
“Probability is overrated,” Tenten replied enigmatically, toppling another Hazamaru figure with a flick of her fingertip.
“Inoue-sensei Teaching no. 34,” Keiko added, “if you see a single ninja facing your full team and looking like they know something you don’t, run.”
-o-
Rock Lee calmly took five ninja figures from his Claw reserve and slid them over into Fang, into the middle of Sarutobi’s prepared ambush.
“You did it…” Yamanaka whimpered. “You actually did it…”
“It is unyouthful to go back on your word,” Rock Lee said firmly.
Sarutobi reached for the dice to roll his first strike.
Rock Lee put down a card in the middle of the country.
Tamed Chakra Behemoth.
“It is also unyouthful not to meet a challenge with everything you have.”
Sarutobi put the dice back down.
-o-
“Forget Keiten,” Hazō said quietly to Nara. “It’s Leeno that we need to take out first. With Chosuma wiped out in the west, they’re going to grow into a serious threat if we let them.”
Nara shook his head. “Turn back, Kurosawa. Turn back before it’s too late. Women are troublesome, and that one is the most troublesome of them all.”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s your funeral.”
Then Nara gave a shadow of a smile.
“But first, let’s make it theirs.”
-o-
Noburi observed the battlefield.
Team Leeno had been taken out by a series of precision strikes from Hazamaru. Yamanaka’s heart hadn’t been in the defence, and all things considered Noburi couldn’t blame her. She was now in the kitchen making herself calming camomile tea while Rock Lee cheered on the other teams even-handedly.
Chosuma had gone on the defensive to recover from their brutal defeat in Fang. Keiten were systematically taking over the neutral territories like water pouring down the path of least resistance, except water didn’t tend to leave troops in key locations so you couldn’t attack its stuff without triggering a massive counterattack.
And Gaimari… Team Gaimari weren’t paying much attention to the game at all, and were currently watching Keiko and Tenten while whispering to each other. Yet they were still holding a solid third place.
Still, things weren’t too bad. Hyūga, while having been banned from the Most Awful Personality Championships for blatant doping, was a surprisingly decent tactician if you could tune out the other ninety percent of what he said. Meanwhile, neither Hazō nor Keiko nor Inoue-sensei seemed to be aware how much attention he paid to them on a daily basis, and were repeatedly caught off guard by his ability to predict how they thought.
Gaimari finished their turn.
“They took our Vegetables,” Hyūga growled next to him. “This slight cannot be forgiven.”
“You’re right,” Noburi said. “Let the armies of Nobuneji go forth and unify the Warring Clans with blood and fire!”
-o-
Team Keiten won on points.
It was enough to make you want to cry. The twin titans of Hazamaru and Nobuneji had crushed Gaimari and Chosuma between them in an unspoken temporary alliance, then proceeded to clash like a cobra against a mongoose, throwing stratagem after stratagem at each other… forgetting completely that the game was on a timer.
Keiten, meanwhile, stayed out of PvP combat altogether, making any attackers pay so dearly for every gain that neither of the other teams could challenge them without leaving themselves vulnerable to their true rival. And all Keiten had was a bunch of small, low-value territories anyway… which turned out to add up to just a few points more than either Hazamaru or Nobuneji’s constantly shifting empires.
Tenten glanced down at Keiko’s right hand. Keiko shook her head very slightly, apologetically. Tenten gave a fractional nod.
Then the two of them nodded to each other, just like before. If there was any more subtle emotion being expressed by their movements, Hazō couldn’t read it.
-o-
“I hope you’re grateful I permitted you to learn strategy from a Hyūga, lowlife,” Hyūga sneered.
“Oh, I learned plenty,” Noburi said. “I promise I’ll never forget how to cooperate somebody’s ass into victory.”
Hyūga scowled at him, took a failed stab at a “hmph” of aristocratic disdain, and then stomped off.
Ino hung back until she was the last to leave.
“I owe you bigtime for coming to the rescue. I just can’t handle guys like Rock Lee. Seriously, I could kiss you.”
Hazō froze.
“But I won’t,” Yamanaka grinned. “See you tomorrow, Kurosawa!”
And she hopped off the front step and ran to catch up with her team.
-o-
“Thank you for the dinner, Kagome-sensei,” Hazō said. “It was delicious. I particularly liked the new spices.”
“It was nothing,” Kagome-sensei grunted. “Got to keep our strength up for when the stinkers finally make their move. It’s been too quiet.
“But it’s good that you liked it,” Kagome-sensei added hurriedly, like a student realising he hadn't ticked a box in a multiple-choice text. “I might try improving on it next time.”
“I look forward to it. By the way, remember those books we were looking at before?”
“Yes,” Kagome-sensei said immediately.
“Once we get paid, we should pick something up for you. There was a book we saw on carving, with woodcuts, or maybe something from the Akimichi Lore cookbook series?”
“Cookbooks, huh? I suppose even they wouldn’t poison their own. Not en masse, anyway. Though it could be a bluff—we’d need to watch to make sure we’re being sold the same books as the rest of them. And I don’t mind the woodcut one either. Yes, I could do with a good book.”
-o-
“Inoue-sensei?”
“Hazō,” she said, sitting on the doorstep looking up at the stars. “How’d it go?”
“I didn’t talk about it. It didn’t feel like the right time to say anything… romantic.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. And besides, thinking about it, even if I like her that way, that doesn’t mean she likes me back.”
“Mizukage’s oozing thornbush of a haircut,” Inoue-sensei said under her breath, “we do have a lot of work to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind.”
“Say,” it seemed like a good time to ask, “have you ever heard of a song called Tears of Red?”
“I haven’t heard the song, but I know the folk tale. It’s about an Uchiha’s forbidden love for a Senju. They clash on the battlefield, again and again, and somewhere along the line she realises that her hatred for him has turned into love. But then her father, the clan chief, finds a poem she wrote about the Senju, and he tells her the only way to purify the taint in her heart is to kill him with her own hands. ‘Come back with his head or not at all,’ he says. So the Uchiha goes and fights him, but every time she sees an opening, try as she might, she can’t make herself go for a deathblow. They fight all day and all night, and at last she sees that she could never kill him, and throws herself on his glaive. With her dying words, she confesses her love for him. Then the Senju cradles her in his arms, lowers her gently to the ground, and tells her that he’s loved her all along. Their lips meet, for the first and last time, and that’s where the story ends.”
“Ah,” Hazō said. “That’s… not the kind of song I expected her to like.”
“Girls are complicated,” Inoue-sensei gave a wry smile. “Boys too, for that matter. Get used to it.”
“Anyway,” Hazō found his train of thought again, “I came out here because I wanted to thank you. For your advice, and for looking out for us, even though it’s hard and stressful and just keeping Kagome-sensei stable must be exhausting for you. And I’m sorry about the thing at the hospital. I should have followed your lead. You deserve all the trust we can give you.”
He tentatively opened his arms for a hug.
Inoue-sensei moved in, inevitably ruffling his hair in the process.
“You’re a sweet kid, Hazō. You’re going to make one or more girls very happy someday.”
Her hug tightened a little around him, then she let go and stepped back.
“Inoue-sensei, I’ve been wondering. What is it you have against the Mizukage’s hair anyway? Did he do something to personally offend you?”
-o-
Mari’s footsteps were heavy as she trudged through the corridors of the Mizukage’s Office. She didn’t enjoy meeting Yagura face to face at the best of times, and this was definitely not the best of times. She could only hope that he was up to his ears in work and had little time to spare for the likes of her.
“Good morning, Captain Zabuza,” she gave a respectful nod as the senior jōnin passed her by.
“Inoue,” he nodded back.
Mari turned to look at him as he walked away. Momochi Zabuza. A brutal, ruthless killer the mere whisper of whose name sent missing-nin fleeing to the far corners of the world. An unapproachable masked man with an aura of mystery. And sculpted like a god of war. Mari sighed.
The labyrinthine passageways twisted and turned as she made her way to the heart of the bureaucratic maze and knocked on Yagura’s door.
“Enter.”
The boy looked small behind an adult’s desk, and smaller still next to the tall, immaculately squared stacks of paperwork. You could almost pity him, this youth locked into the hardest job in the village by the burden of his own power. You could almost pity him… if you didn’t know.
“Inoue Mari, reporting in.”
As she crossed the threshold of his office, she felt a disorienting sense of transition. Yagura’s will extended from him like an invisible lattice of force, cutting up the world into regular tiles connected to each other by rules no one but he understood. Those who stepped into his presence became his pieces, granted one tile each and permitted to move only as he chose.
“You failed the Mikoto mission, Inoue,” Yagura said, his voice an emotionless tenor.
“Sir! My assignment was to infiltrate Akarengejō and—“
“I know the missions I assign my shinobi, Inoue. Restrict yourself to salient information.”
Mari swallowed.
“As you know, instilling plausible temporary insanity is a very subtle and time-consuming task. Intel said the daimyo and his wife were estranged, and she’d be sleeping in a separate wing, so I should have had all night to work.
“Unfortunately, apparently this was the night she decided to try to reconcile. She walked in on me as I was in mid-genjutsu, assessed the situation immediately, and screamed. I was forced to abort before the guards arrived. I don’t believe my identity was compromised.”
Yagura’s eyes unfocused slightly. He blinked once. Twice.
“Kill the wife. Disable the husband. Cover the wife’s body with a blanket and take her form. Inform the guards they heard cries of passion and instruct them that you are not to be disturbed for the foreseeable future. Wait for the husband to recover and use the dead wife’s body as a prop to further your original objective.”
Mari inwardly winced. “I—I didn’t think of it in the heat of the moment.”
“No, you did not. Inoue, if you are unable to improvise even on this level, then you must learn to prepare contingencies in advance. Panic is not useful. Shinobi who panic are not useful.”
“I did not panic,” Mari’s temper flared. “Just because—”
Yagura’s eyes snapped onto hers.
The lattice of force warped around her, twisting itself like bondage rope, like ninja wire, pinning her from head to toe and stopping the tiniest sliver away from cutting into her flesh. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak.
But Mari refused to surrender. She would not be dominated by a man. She would not be turned into a helpless puppet for Yagura to use for his own pleasure. Not ever.
She was the flame, untouchable and irresistible, dancing and devouring, giving life or destruction on a whim. All the ninja wire in the world could not bind the flame, and any who tried to force their will onto her would burn to ashes.
Something shifted behind Yagura’s eyes.
Mari plunged into the oceanic depths, far beyond the reach of the sun. The pressure of endless fathoms of water slammed down onto her, a single teardrop’s weight away from crushing her bones into dust. No flame could exist in this abyss. Nothing could exist in this abyss. Nothing but the single vast being that was silently watching her die.
Then the Mizukage let her go.
“Forgive me, Mizukage,” Mari choked out as if trying to expel the water from her lungs. “I spoke out of turn.”
“Go,” the Mizukage said as if nothing had happened. “You will be informed when I next have use for you.”
It was then that Mari understood. Whether it was a year from now, or ten, one day the Mizukage would decide she was no longer useful. He would raise his hand and snuff her out, instantly, without a struggle, and if there was anything left alive after that, it would not be Inoue Mari.
-o-
“No, Hazō,” Mari said softly. “It’s just a running joke.”
She ruffled his hair again for good measure.
“Now off with you. You need to be relaxed and at the top of your game if you’re going to conquer your girl troubles, and it’s already late.”
“All right. Good night, Inoue-sensei.”
“Good night, Hazō.”
Mari gazed up at the night sky. A complicated, messy day, full of unseen dangers, elusive opportunities, and unique, unpredictable challenges. Just like the one before it. And the one before that. No backup, no safety net, no hint of what tomorrow might bring. Just her, a loyal team, and an impossible dream borrowed from a boy purer of heart than she would ever be.
Be careful what you wish for, she knew. And yet some part of her wished that these complicated, messy days would last forever.