Omake: Speech
Every part of Hazo hurt.
He could remember, dimly, his father's death. The memories felt dreamlike, almost unreal, memories of someone else who happened to be observing a mourning child. He could see, now, that the child had been drowning - drowning in grief, drowning in confusion, drowning in anger.
But that child hadn't known they were drowning. They'd just felt the water, felt resistance when they thrashed, felt their throat fill and their lungs spasm, felt a leeching cold.
They hadn't been able to see the ocean, empty and heartless. They hadn't known how far they were from shore, they hadn't known that no one was coming. They hadn't known that they would not drown, but swallow lungful after lungful of frigid brackish seawater as they drifted with agonizing slowness back to land.
Hazo knew. He knew exactly what was coming and part of him whispered that he would fail. This would break him. It whispered that Akane was dead, would always be dead, and that he would never recover the part of him that had died with her. The wound in his soul would not heal, but blacken and turn and seep through him until it claimed him.
"Hazo?"
Mari put her head around the door. She was resplendent in Leaf mourning garb; black with reds, oranges, and yellows. He catalogued her makeup before peeling it back, the powder revealing worry lines, smudged darkness at the corners of her eyes distracting from barely-visible bags, mascara offsetting bloodshot eyes. He kept peeling, drawing her sk1n from her muscles to reveal tension in her jaw, and then the muscle separate to uncover cle1Vched teeth and t#en b0ne gave wa -
"Hazo. It's time."
He stood. His back hurt. She put a hand on his shoulder. Guilt washed over him. She was keeping it together, and that worried him. Later, he'd sit down with her.
Thinking of later hurt.
The crowd was a decent size. Reo had done well with the impromptu stage, wrought from the red granite which was becoming synonymous with Goketsu. It was simple - an elevated platform, with a backdrop covered in calligraphy and tapestries. Goketsu colours, and Goketsu words. Hazo looked over but not at the throng of people. If he saw a Hagoromo, he didn't know what he'd do. He took a breath, and began.
"Manato, Nakajima Nanao, Tomoe Mami, and Goketsu Akane are missing, presumed dead."
The air was still. Speaking hurt, even as the Iron Nerve played the speech back.
"Leaf is poorer by four outstanding shinobi, taken too soon. They touched many lives, and it's good to see so many of their comrades, friends, and family here. I'd like to speak to all of you - not just here and now, but in the coming days and weeks, to mourn and share stories. Every moment I had with Akane was precious. It would be wrong to hoard those moments: we may never have more, but we can share the wealth of knowing her, knowing Nanao, and knowing Mami, knowing Manato. I would like to share the memories I was gifted with you. I hope that you'll do the same for me."
Someone wept.
"All of their deaths constitute tragedies - tragedies which should be unimaginable, but which are all too easy to conceive for everyone here. I wish to honour this tragedy, their sacrifice, but first - "
Mari had coached him through the slip. An apology delivered by the Iron Nerve would be picked over, analyzed, and taken as insincere. Almost no one in Leaf would be able to tell the difference, but Ritsuo would make sure that someone who
could was in the crowd and Hazo would not provide him with anything he could use to deflect even a shred of the Hokage's fury. So, they'd rehearsed, over and over. His bloodline hurt, but he could do it, now. He let go of his face - he
seemed to let go of his face. The slightest of slight exaggerations, so everyone would see, would believe, that he'd made this real.
" - I must apologize to the Hagoromo. By now, you have likely heard rumour that I made threats against their clan, and by extension, the village. These rumours are true. I am deeply ashamed. I unreservedly recant those threats, and my words. The Goketsu will not act against the Hagoromo - no aggression nor provocation will be tolerated. Akane would expect no less. She may have returned to the Will of Fire, but she remains in my heart, and I will not disappoint nor dishonour her."
His teeth hurt. The words hurt, like choking down kunai and vomiting molten metal.
He waited for a heartbeat, and continued.
"I wish to honour Akane, and Mami, and Manato, and Nanao. Goketsu wishes to honour their sacrifice and their memories."
He gestured - first, the handsign for 'safe', to frowns, and then behind him. Mari, out of sight, triggered the MARS chain attached to the charges placed last night. The backdrop crumbled, and so did a carefully-chosen portion of the wall of the Goketsu clan compound, revealing a small building. The shockwave - barely noticeable by Goketsu standards, and a sudden, strong wind by anyone else's - grabbed at Hazo's robes, blew dust and pebbles through the crowd.
It was a marriage of stone and wood. It was green and brown and red. Ken and Hazo had agonized over it, almost come to blows, and agreed on a structure that they thought Akane would have liked. It was small. It had a doorway but no door. The roof hung over the entrance, protecting the space from the weather. Four names were carved into the lintel. It was barely big enough for two people, one standing and one seated behind a desk, but it still looked open and inviting. They'd put it together in a frenzy last night, working almost silently. They'd both wept when it was finished.
Shouts and confusion competed with the muted roar. Hazo projected over both.
"The Goketsu have endowed the Team Akane Seal Bank." He'd flat-out rejected the inclusion of the word 'memorial'. "Any shinobi may withdraw a package of four seals - one storage, three explosive tags - free of charge, at any time. These seals will be replaced as they are destroyed, consumed, or wear out."
The shouting had crescendoed at the words 'seal bank', only to vanish as Hazo held up four seals. The clicking of abacus beads was nigh-audible as every numerate member of the crowd, which had grown since the explosion, reached the same conclusion. This would be a massive expense.
"Leaf provides seals to its shinobi at reasonable prices, but circumstance and misfortune leave these tools too expensive for many shinobi. If there is one thing a Goketsu knows, it is the power of the right seal, in the right place, at the right time. We would see all of Leaf's shinobi thus equipped."
Kei had thrown a fit. Shikamaru had raised both eyebrows. Mari had pursed her lips. Noburi had whistled, and Yuno had clutched Satsuko. Kagome had grumbled, dumped a stack of explosives on the table, and started scribing, then and there. No one had argued.
(Akane's absence hurt.)
"We ask four things of those who would use the seal bank."
"Please limit your use of the bank to your need: we trust that no Leaf shinobi would dishonour the memories of dead comrades through greed or a desire to hurt the Goketsu through inappropriate use of the bank. If we find that the bank is being abused, we will investigate and respond accordingly."
One seal flickered out of sight, leaving two explosives and the storage seal.
"However, if you
are in such need, do not hesitate to make use of the bank. The right seal, at the right time, in the right place, can make all the difference between the success and failure of a mission, between your death and life, between mourning and joy."
One explosive and the storage seal remained visible. The crowd was still. Hazo ventured a look at the crowd - a real one. He caught the eye of a stunned genin, and continued.
"If you do make use of the bank, and later find yourself in a position to make a contribution of seals or ryo, please do so. These seals and this money will be held independently of Goketsu - at present, the plan is to work with the KEI and Nara to provide independent bookkeeping, allowing donors absolute confidence that donated seals and funds will be used exclusively for the bank."
Only the storage seal remained.
"Finally, we ask that when you use these seals, you think of Team Akane."
The murmuring was still shocked, but it had a different timbre. Hazo lowered his hand, and let the Iron Nerve go - properly, this time.
"The bank will open tomorrow. Please excuse any missteps or issues as we launch this new initiative: our clan is grieving, but we are committed, and appreciate your patience. Team Akane may no longer be with us, and this is a poor substitute for what their legacy could have been, but we will honour them. Make no mistake: this is a significant expense. We welcome and encourage any sealsmith capable and willing to contribute to the bank. We will be reaching out to the KEI and other clans to see if they are interested in donating other to augment the offered seals, but let me be clear: as long a Goketsu sealmaster can hold a brush and mould chakra, as long as the memories of Goketsu Akane, Manato, Nakajima Nanao, and Tomoe Mami burn in our hearts, the bank will stand, and it will serve the shinobi of Leaf."
The confusion coalesced into shouted questions. Hazo ignored them, instead bowing deeply before walking off the stage and back into the compound, passing Noburi and Mari, ready to deter anyone who followed him. His hands hurt - cramped from holding a brush, the same strokes, over and over. He'd stopped counting seals at some point, and just kept going until Kagome made him stop.
Every part of Hazo hurt.
A little less than before.
