Despite the impenetrable, flawlessly-isolating barrier that was Kagome's armoured door, the former missing-nin was so attuned to the surrounding environment that he reacted before Kei could knock a third time. She listened to the dragging sounds of metal against metal as Kagome slid back the bolts, taking this final moment to organise her thoughts.
Why had she come? What purpose could this meeting possibly serve? She had laughed, instinctively, when Hazō proposed that
she speak to Kagome and assist him with his personal problems, with the deep scars left behind by the betrayal that was Ami's adoption and the more gradual degeneration of his role within the family that Hazō himself was struggling to grasp.
Kei was not a healer. Even Akane had not dared to do more than subtly hint at future possibilities, which Kei had rejected out of hand. A slug stood only to lose from dreaming of flight.
Yet warped as the logic was, it was also inexorable. Their family had been collapsing, slowly, silently, ever since Akane's death. Noburi, her second-in-command on the emotional front, was unequal to the task of serving as her replacement–unlike Akane, who had been somewhat directionless and instead devoted herself to others' needs, he now possessed a medical career to devour his time and energy. Hazō himself was, needless to say, occupied with greater concerns, and while he sometimes demonstrated miracles of insight that made him seem a guru of personal problems, his failures were as devastating as his successes were extraordinary (and sometimes simultaneous, as with his unilateral adoption of Ami). Her mother was an eliminator of problems, not a solver, and her powers were too dangerous–to herself most of all–to utilise full-time. Yuno was of little help for similar reasons to Kei.
Kei feared to imagine what would have become of her after Isan's destruction and Ami's disappearance had she been forced to rely on the Gōketsu for support. She feared to imagine what would transpire should a blow of similar magnitude strike a family member without an external support network like hers.
"Hello, Kei," Kagome greeted her, laboriously dragging the behemoth open. "What's going on?"
Of course he was surprised to see her actively seeking him out. The process of elimination that had remorselessly marked her for this task neglected their usual dynamic: the two least sensitive and most volatile members of the family took care, by silent agreement, to limit direct contact, lest one carelessly trigger the other's MARS array of issues and catastrophe result.
"Hazō suggested that I speak with you," Kei said frankly, aware that the sophisticated social dance necessary to disguise the fact was beyond her. "I believe it is his impression that, as one who has miraculously achieved an acceptable degree of functionality in the face of a history of extensive self-loathing, realism, and suicidal ideation, I may be of service to you in coping with your own difficulties. Needless to say, the idea is wildly delusional, but I request that you humour him nonetheless."
"What difficulties?" Kagome demanded in the tone of a man unjustly accused of murder. "I'm not having any difficulties, Kei. That's just ridiculous. Everything is fine."
"Of course," Kei said placidly. "Then it will not concern you that Ami has just sent word of her return, together with a detailed blueprint of the room she wishes constructed next to mine, exploiting functions of the Earthshaping Technique which by rights she should have no way of knowing."
Kagome's eyes grew wide. "She
what? I have to–I have to…"
He looked wildly around the room, his eyes stopping on various seal designs littering his desk and pinned to his wall, seeking, evaluating.
Then he deflated. "I have to do
something…" he said in the voice of a man already defeated.
"That was an illustrative deception," Kei said. "Of course she has not returned to us."
Kagome glared daggers at her. "That was cruel, Kei. You know how I feel about Mori."
Kei nodded. "And as your response was to implicitly accuse and/or threaten my sister in front of me, I believe we are even in terms of offence given, while my point has been effectively made.
"I assure you, Kagome, that your frustration at being forced to tolerate the trust with which this clan has treated Ami, persistently ignoring your expert opinion that she is a threat, has been fully mirrored by my frustration at being forced to tolerate the suspicion with which this clan has treated Ami, persistently ignoring my expert opinion that she is trustworthy. I appreciate that you must have felt isolated and ignored, the others taking it for granted that you would suppress your true feelings and support them in the world they believed themselves to live in rather than the world that was real–not because I possess the least insight into human nature, but because I have felt the same."
"Huh," Kagome said. "Hearing you say that… after I take the Kei-ness out of it, that's actually a good way of putting it."
"None taken," Kei muttered.
"What?"
"Never mind," Kei said. "Then you feel my assessment of the situation is fair?"
"I get why they did it," Kagome said. "They made a point of explaining–once it was too late, anyway. Hazō is a good kid, always has been. Him wanting to offer somebody redemption from time to time is just the kind of thing you have to live with. It's how
I ended up part of this family, and I was… well, I nearly killed him when we first met. Nothing like Mori and her silver tongue. And I get the politics angle, too. Even I can see how incredibly useful somebody like her would be as an ally–the difference is that they've let down their guard enough to think she
can be an ally, and I'm sorry, Kei, but there's nothing you can say to make me believe that deep down."
"It is not my business to attempt to persuade you," Kei said. "By this point, I have accepted that she will earn your trust through her own actions."
The look Kagome gave her was not simply uncomfortable. It was
haunted, to the point that for a second Kei felt remorse for what Ami's mere existence had inflicted on this man.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Kagome whispered.
This unproductive line of discussion was not what Kei had been aiming for, but she supposed there had never been any possibility of dancing around the Ami in the room when both of them had two left feet, no knowledge of the steps, and the coordination of a civilian stunned by a banshee wren.
"Regardless," Kei said, "I did not come to relitigate the merits of Hazō's overdue decision. Rather, it is out of a vague and unjustified hope that I will possess some insight which may somehow be of value to you.
"You have acknowledged your feelings of being ignored and isolated. I have recently developed a… converse perspective on the matter. After an incident in which Hazō failed to consult me as his sanity-checker, to predictable effect, I began to appreciate the privilege involved in that sometimes onerous role. It is a matter of discomfort to observe how others within the clan, though vastly more qualified than I in a variety of significant domains, are consulted only on matters directly within their purview, and otherwise kept from the levers of power–usually not out of distrust or disrespect, but simply because their opinions are… not necessary.
"Hazō has magnificently transcended his youthful flaw of disregarding others' humanity, and from a Nara perspective, constraining the number of parties involved is a perfectly rational approach to optimising the decision-making process. Yet what must the experience be on the other side of the divide, aware of the frequency and regularity of these meetings, yet so rarely invited to participate?"
Kagome looked at her thoughtfully. "You're a good kid too, Kei."
She gave him a look of deepest scepticism, such as would plumb the bottomless chasms to their limit and awaken the sleeping primordial horrors whose wrath once tore the caverns now known as Hidden Rock out of the flesh of the earth. Kagome appeared not to notice.
"It's not even that I mind so much," he said. "I know full well that I'm not the politician in the family, and economics sends me running to the willowbark drawer. Most of the time, I imagine you talk about stuff I wouldn't be able to help with anyway. But…"
"But there is no more efficacious means to degrade one's self-esteem than to witness one's loved ones treat one as surplus to requirements," Kei concluded. "I was only four years younger than Ami–a significant distance, to be certain, but not to the point that her conversations with my parents on abstract topics did not eventually become comprehensible to me. Yet it was not until I observed interactions among the Nara that I learned that it is not a given that a child be discouraged from participation in adult conversations, even banished should her ignorant comments be judged distracting.
"At the time, however, the experience only reinforced my conviction that I was a creature of a different species from Ami, and my business was to attend to my studies–which, I hasten to add, my parents supported and encouraged, in full understanding that utility cannot be reaped without investment–while leaving matters of import to those with actual competence."
"Kei," Kagome said, "I know we don't often talk, but I want to make sure you know your parents are terrible people, and you did not deserve any of that. Besides, look at you now, second-in-command of the smartest clan in the world, Queen of the KEI, one of the village's big movers and shakers–shows what they knew, huh?"
"The extent to which any of those were my achievements, or deserved in any way, is subject to debate," Kei objected. "However… I am in the process of re-evaluating certain life lessons that have shaped my identity. The process is slow and torturous, especially in Akane's absence, and plagued with subjectivity, as it is nigh-impossible for me to distinguish between those experiences which are natural to childhood and to which I merely overreacted as a result of my personal failings and those which were… abnormal, representing genuine harm. Sometimes I still wonder if the latter category actually exists."
This was altogether more openness than her relationship with Kagome merited, Kei was aware. She had not even discussed the subject with Hazō. However, Akane had led by example when offering vulnerability to earn vulnerability, and what Kei could not achieve through being a person deserving of trust, she could at least imitate for instrumental purposes.
"However," she said, having reached her limits, "I did not come here to speak of myself. My intended point is that any suffering on your part from feelings of uselessness or neglect is both legitimate and understandable. So much so, in fact, that even I can understand and accept it, despite my general obliviousness to the inner lives of others."
Kagome simply sat and stared at her for a while. It did not feel like a glare; rather, he was processing, and she, as the trigger, happened to continue to be in his field of view. Kei suspected it might be a social faux pas, so she made a note to research it in the library later.
"Hazō's surpassed me as a sealmaster, you know," he said eventually. "I'm ever so proud of him. 3D sealing, the art of the original masters, can you imagine? As his teacher, I always hoped–no, knew–that it would happen eventually, and look at him. Only sixteen, and he's already left me in the dust."
"You should perhaps refrain from discussion of certain topics in casual conversation," Kei said coolly. Honestly, how did this clan survive the periods of her absence?
"Oh. I mean, we were only talking about… about freebie stealing! Yeah! Hazō just loves the, uh, thrill of crime even when he's already getting the thing for free, everybody knows that!"
Kei sighed.
"Am I to assume, given the overall topic, that this jubilation at Hazō's success is not unqualified?"
"Well, that's the thing, isn't it?" Kagome asked. "What's the good of a teacher with nothing left to teach? Might as well stick old Kagome in a nice secondary research facility and let him tinker with his chūnin-level toys, maybe get him some more apprentices and see if any of them survive–not that they will because he's
stupid and can't even drum basic sealing safety into their heads–while the special jōnin goes off to change the world and
maybe finds time to come talk shop once in a blue moon.
"It's a good thing. It's how it's supposed to be. I get it."
"And yet," Kei said.
"Yeah," Kagome said heavily. "Sorry to be dumping all of that on you, Kei. Things aren't that bad. Honestly. I mean it. Just… everybody has their own stuff going on–you more than anyone, the way I hear it–and I can't just go complaining to them over every little thing. Heck, I'm the oldest one here. I should at least
try to act like an adult."
"Adulthood requires relying on others for support when necessary, and if one is in doubt, then it is necessary," Kei said. "It is a lesson I am steadfastly failing to learn, but fortunately I have people who equally steadfastly apply it to my cranium with percussive force at regular intervals."
Kagome gave her a look she was unable to read.
"It was a good talk, Kei," he said, which she understood meant he wished to terminate the interaction. Frankly, she was amazed he had tolerated her blundering attempts at emotional connection this long.
His next words thus took her completely by surprise.
"We should talk more. Maybe you can come by again sometime?"
But... what of their carefully-maintained social no man's land? Had he forgotten that only cataclysm could come of their extended direct interaction, as on the day she received Mewhō from the Nara Keiko Fan Club, when he thoughtlessly
touched her without warning and she equally thoughtlessly cursed him for that innocent mistake? No, safety could be found only in separation, for both their sakes.
"You know," Kagome mused as she failed to assent, "I came across a curious carrot cake recipe in an Akimichi cookbook the other day. Apparently, Fire Country walnuts really enhance the taste if you prep them right. Of course, the Akimichi love to exaggerate, and what's 'out of this world' supposed to mean anyway?"
"I believe that if I reorganise my itinerary, I can generate a free evening slot by the end of the week."
Kei suspected that a more insightful being than she could read volumes into the fact that over the last three years, she had been or become estranged from five different family members, or that she had successfully reconnected with them all, or that over half of the reconnections were in some way Hazō's fault.
