"It occurs to me," Snowflake mused, "that our present situation is an excellent metaphor for… well, our present situation."
Hazō gave her a questioning look as he poured them both freshly-unsealed hot chocolate. He was using a mug he had received as a birthday present from Yuno, an order-made vessel with an inscription that read, "I have every dog in this race", as well as a portrait of Cannai by an artist who had never seen the Alpha, based on the guidance of Yuno, who had also never seen the Alpha. Yuno had been highly offended when Kagome informed her it was the finest rendition of a sky squid he had ever seen. (Snowflake's own mug was a gift from Shikamaru from when her Fire Country citizenship was made official, and was decorated simply with the Leaf symbol.
You belong.)
"How's that?" Hazō asked, staring closely at the mugs in order not to over-pour in the dim red seal-light (the brightest they were willing to dare at night, even with precautions).
Was it not obvious?
"Here we are, enjoying comfort and companionship while one false move away from plunging to certain death; higher than any other shinobi has ever risen, yet with the stars no less out of reach.
"The metaphor is only enhanced," she added, looking down at the skytower, "by the fact that our survival rests solely on your seals."
"Where does the hot chocolate fit in?" Hazō asked, passing her a mug.
Snowflake paused to think.
"It is evanescent pleasure–for you, another research success. For Kei, another day in which no innocents fall by her hand. For Kagome, another day in which his precautions have proved sufficient to protect his family. Yet already, you can feel the warmth in your hands fading into the cold night, and know that the victory you taste now will in no way dull the challenges of the morrow."
In the metaphor, there was no hot chocolate for Snowflake herself, unless the evanescence of her entire existence qualified.
"Wow," Hazō said. "That's… depressing."
"I apologise," Snowflake said. "As I have yet to secure permission from the Polemarch to exist upon the Seventh Path in an independent capacity, my opportunities to perform actions other than brooding are limited, and so I am ever refining the art whether I will it or not."
"What do you mean?"
"Human beings may only enter the Human Path via a contract," Snowflake explained. "This law is not recorded anywhere as far as I am aware, but considering even summoners are tolerated only for the benefits they bring the clan, we believe it would be taken for granted. As I lack such a contract, and have yet to earn Pantsā's approval, a single misstep on my part, including the tiniest conflict with a representative of the Holy Pangolin Empire, could lead to my formal exclusion–in which case Kei would be denied the use of the Shadow Clone Technique. She is already denied the Frozen Skein, and I cannot have her survival tools whittled down further. Thus, on the Seventh Path, I must constrain my activities to those acceptable for a temporary ninjutsu effect."
She kept her tone even–what were her trivial complaints next to the pressures Hazō was doubtless under?–but she could not help her hands tightening around her mug.
"I'm sorry, Snowflake," Hazō said. "I should have figured this would be even harder on you than on the rest of us. For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here. I'm around 24/7–in fact, rather more than 24/7–and more of that time than I'd like ends up going to thinking about the family that's still in Leaf. I miss them. I'm glad I don't have to miss you as well."
"Indeed," Snowflake said. "This mission has made me realise anew how many people I have become connected to. How has someone like me been blessed with so many connections, so many people who actually enjoy my company and actively seek it out? How have
I, in no way less solitary by nature than Kei, found myself with so many people whose company I miss as well? It is quite preposterous."
She felt her grip soften. It was unaccountable for. Incomprehensible. Most of those people already had Kei, who surely satisfied most of the same needs and had the advantage of a pre-existing bond. Snowflake should have been redundant, lacking competitive advantage to justify having time and emotional resources spent on her when a satisfactory version already existed. So why…?
"I hope I can see them again," Snowflake said, "implausible though it may be. After all, it is not as if I will be reunited with them in the afterlife." Kei would presumably be unable to use the Shadow Clone Technique in the Pure Land, after all, and when she passed on to her final destination, Snowflake would simply disappear from existence. Shadow clones had no souls.
"You do know we're going to win this, right?" Hazō asked. "I mean, I know the deadlines are pressing in as well as anyone. Believe me, it's not lost on me that the fate of the world depends on me figuring this out, and figuring it out fast. But I have plenty of promising research directions, and all it takes is for one of them to work out. One. Heck, it doesn't even have to kill all of Akatsuki. If I can take out half of them, that already puts Leaf on even ground, and I have
plenty of ideas on how to do that much. In the worst-case scenario, I give up on my cooler ideas for the time being and just whip up a mini-Akatsuki killer or two, and we suck it up and accept that Leaf will have casualties–but that's not the same as saying we'll never see our loved ones again."
His optimism was almost offensive. How could he sit here, in the darkness above the abyssal depths of Gaikotsu Bay, and
pretend, so casually, to her face?
"The worst-case scenario," Snowflake said, aiming for cold but finding only emptiness, "is that Akatsuki find us using some means we have failed to account for and kill us all here, something they can accomplish with ease in defiance of a dozen Akatsuki-killers so long as they possess the element of surprise. Even should we successfully reverse-summon, that will merely leave your current runes in Akatsuki's hands and yourself trapped in a place where runic infusion, and thus further research, is impermissible.
"The
second-worst is that Akatsuki abandon or forgo their efforts to locate us and instead assault Leaf, aware that our superweapons will be of little efficacy if they can force us to deploy them on grounds of their choosing, without Leaf support. Kidnapping and torturing our loved ones would likewise be a strategically advisable move, whether to seek information or on the off-chance that it will provoke us to emerge, and can be done with or without Leaf's destruction.
"That my brooding time has been limited does not mean Kei has not repeatedly enumerated and refined countless catastrophic scenarios, together with estimated odds. Were I so inclined, I could list
which of our loved ones Akatsuki would torture, and in what order, accounting for political considerations versus utility. Can you promise me that a clan council that was willing to sacrifice land, clan secrets, and its pride in order to avoid conflict with Akatsuki, even as the Hokage's blood was still soaking into the floor, would choose annihilation over surrendering the likes of Tenten and Miyuki?"
Hazō gave a heavy sigh. "No, Snowflake. I can't. All I can do is work as fast as I can, and hope that it's enough."
A gloomy silence settled over the tiny platform hanging in the darkness. Snowflake had, naturally, ruined everything through the simple expedient of being herself.
"Again, my apologies," she said eventually. "You did not invite me here for
this. I believe it is time I took my leave."
"Snowflake, wait!"
He just barely made it in time, as Snowflake was carefully putting down her mug before she dispelled.
"I'm sorry too," Hazō said. "I didn't mean to make light of the situation. I just… Snowflake, I have to keep telling myself that I can do this, that my runes will be enough, that I'll make it in time. It's the only way I can keep going. I'm afraid that if I stop to weigh the odds, if I start questioning whether I'll succeed or thinking about all the ways things can go wrong… I'll just shut down. If that happens, we lose. No probabilities needed."
Of course. Now she heard his feelings, it made perfect sense. No one could
actually be as relentlessly determined, as invincible, as Gōketsu Hazō appeared. Surely anyone with a gram of sensitivity should have perceived that much without needing to be told, instead of piling additional pressure onto him.
But Snowflake was not even that strong.
"I… I understand," Snowflake said. "I
am sorry. She is as well. It is not as if we do not understand that doomsaying is unproductive. It's just… how else do you cope with this overwhelming fear? This sense of powerlessness? Everything about our futures rests on your research, even as we waste our time on meaningless conflict on the Seventh Path, our agency limited to the occasional sanity-check."
She hesitated, looking away. This was not the time to confess her true feelings. This was the time to swallow them and smile, encourage, be supportive.
Nevertheless, she could not hold back.
"Hazō, the truth is, I would… I would even take the dice roll of Pain's utopia, even a hegemony of the insane, if it meant the people I love could live in peace, and I could live by their side. It's blasphemous. It's a betrayal of Uplift. But that is how weak I am in the end. I'm sorry."
She waited for the condemnation she deserved. Even if she did not possess the courage he needed from her, she could at least manage to face the consequences, however desperately she wished to dispel herself this very instant.
Instead, Hazō did something utterly unexpected. Something that could have been suicidal, especially on this narrow platform at a lethal height.
He reached out and placed his hand over hers as it rested on the floor.
She nearly jerked away. He was
doing it wrong. Her hand could not be at the bottom, trapped under his. It was intolerable.
But she controlled herself. Whatever Hazō was attempting to convey with his touch, she somehow instinctively felt it was more important, in this moment, than her ultimately irrational instinct to escape. She could handle this. For a little while.
"Hey," Hazō said gently. "You are not a traitor. You are not blaspheming. That's ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with wanting the fear to go away. There's nothing wrong with wanting peace. That's the whole point of this, the end goal. I'm sorry I can't give it to you yet."
"Of course there is," Snowflake said, wiping her eyes with her free sleeve. She could feel her other hand trembling. "You need confident, courageous people who will support you. You need people who
believe, people like Kei, not people who are weak and scared and unable to make sacrifices. Just look at tonight. You invited me here. You offered me hot chocolate. And all I did was complain and undermine your resolve. I could be the distraction that delays your research and results in all our deaths. Even if you would ordinarily enjoy my company–even if you can still enjoy my company after what I said–I am a liability on this mission. I should restrict myself to providing practical utility for Kei and allow you to determine my future without interruptions.
"Also, could you please let go now?"
Overwrought as she was, she lacked the endurance for extended contact. She did not even understand why Hazō was extending this gesture of intimacy. Was it meant to express forgiveness? Reassurance? Surely it could not be
romance? No, that was unimaginable. Not only did it make no sense in context, but Snowflake and Kei were both under the impression that to Hazō, Akane remained an active member of the polycule. If so, it was inconceivable that he should pursue another woman without her approval. (It was, separately, inconceivable that he should pursue Snowflake.)
Hazō released her hand sheepishly. She endeavoured not to allow her relief onto her face.
Then he gathered himself.
"Snowflake, you are absolutely
not a liability. That's even more ridiculous. I want you here. I need you here. You're an important part of my life, and that doesn't change just because you feel scared or weak the way everybody everywhere ever does when things get too much for them. I don't need Kei here."
He winced. "Uh, I mean I don't
just need Kei here. Kei, please don't get angry when you remember this. I mean I don't just need people because they're devoted to Uplift or whatever. I need you because you're family. I need you because you're you.
"Maybe I've done a poor job of communicating that. It's only after losing Akane that I've realised that I haven't been doing very well at actually telling people that they matter to me. I don't want to ever take anyone for granted."
Snowflake shook her head rapidly. "No. I am not questioning your feelings. I apologise if I implied it. You have been consistently, constantly, inexplicably affectionate and supportive, since long before I had the opportunity to earn any such treatment. In many ways, you are responsible for the person I am now. I may not understand your feelings, but I recognise them."
Or at least, he had successfully forced her to recognise that she held some kind of importance in his eyes. Well, more precisely, Kei had forced her to recognise it. She had been scathing about Snowflake's self-doubt in a particularly Kei way, which was to say that she had presented three annotated graphs of Hazō's behaviour towards Snowflake, applying two Mori statistical analyses and one Nara. Although they spent some time debating methodology, and Snowflake was able to persuade Kei that a handful of incidents were outliers and should not be counted, there was too much Mori in her to defy the ultimate conclusion.
The notion that he
needed her, however, much less
because she was herself? It was incomprehensible. Incoherent. Perhaps Kei would be able to identify some unconventional definition of the words that covered Hazō's usage.
"Then can you stop beating yourself up?" Hazō asked. "I'm happy with you just as you are. I'm glad to have you in my life just as you are. I want you to
keep being in my life, and that includes this mission–and if you ever feel like your feelings are too much for you and you need to complain, big deal. You should hear Kagome-sensei every time the tertiary trap array gets triggered by a seagull."
Snowflake gave a tiny laugh.
"I suspect I will grow out of the habit of self-flagellation the day after Yuno and Noburi enter a polyamorous relationship." She paused. "I don't mean to imply causality! That would be terrifying."
It was not that Yuno was necessarily unattractive, but Snowflake and Kei had long since concluded that that way lay only madness and bloodshed, even if–perhaps
especially if–she was latently bisexual. Besides, the polycule's "heavily-traumatised but sanguine axemistress" slot had since been satisfactorily filled.
"Nevertheless, thank you, Hazō," she said. There were probably perfect words for this situation, eloquent words that would adequately respond to his feelings, express her own, and conclude this exchange with a sense of closure and satisfaction. Perhaps she should conduct research in the Nara Library in order to learn them for next time.
"I… also wish you to keep being in my life just as you are," she said awkwardly instead.
"Now, to clumsily change the subject before I am dispelled by sheer embarrassment, is there any more hot chocolate?"
Hazō reached for another storage scroll.
"Always."
-o-
Voting is closed.