"Inoue Ruriko is in good health," the Mizukage said, taking a casual sip of wine as if to emphasise that this one statement was not an attempt to mess with Jiraiya's mind. "I considered inviting her to this impromptu family gathering, but ultimately I decided not to usurp your role as bearer of good news."
Family gathering. Sure. Mori Biwako had decided to introduce him to her husband Ryūgamine, as if he and Jiraiya hadn't already met over the bodies of Jiraiya's slaughtered comrades. Wakahisa Kenichi, the good magistrate to the Mizukage's evil magistrate, qualified as well, and was a barrel of laughs when it came to stories of his former clansman. But Keiko and Noburi's actual parents were conspicuously absent, to say nothing of Hazō's mother. The best Jiraiya was going to get was this Ami girl, the older sister Keiko never mentioned, and she could be trouble on a whole other level. Jiraiya still hadn't worked out why she was there or what her game was, and it was only a matter of time before she used that innocent façade of hers to stick some diplomatic dagger in his back.
But that was a trap for later in the evening. Right now, Jiraiya had other problems. That woman had just given him the name and address of Mari's mother, who was some lowly innkeeper with no idea about wider political events. Now Jiraiya either had to go and tell her that her daughter was marrying him, Mist's arch-nemesis, or
not go and tell her that her daughter was marrying him, Mist's arch-nemesis, and whichever one he did, it would have consequences that the Mizukage obviously wanted to exploit. He was willing to bet that the woman would deliberately open up some free time tomorrow afternoon so he had no excuse not to go unless it was a deliberate decision.
"Come now, Lady Kurosawa," Wakahisa laughed gregariously. "Throwing bloodthirsty shinobi armies at Lord Gōketsu is one thing, but no man should be forced to face his mother-in-law unprepared."
Look, we can make obviously flippant statements about going to war with you because we're confident of our position, but it remains an option we can exercise at will, Jiraiya translated.
"Trust me," Wakahisa went on, "I'd rather wrestle the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox with my bare hands than deal with mine when she's in one of her banshee moods!"
I am accidentally offending you in a way that reminds you of your emotional and military vulnerability.
An awkward silence fell on the room.
Jiraiya could sense Mori Biwako about to change the subject, overtly to move on from Wakahisa's faux pas, but in reality to shift control of the conversation from the Mizukage into her own hands. It made him wonder whether the two were coordinating on the spot or working from a script.
Jiraiya struck first.
"That opportunity may come sooner than you think, Lord Wakahisa," he said softly.
I have intel on Akatsuki that you don't, and you don't want to be on my bad side if I get Naruto back without you.
But he didn't want to make an actual threat here. Jiraiya could tell he wasn't going to win over the Mori any time soon, not without working closely with Shikaku, but he didn't get any sense of close alliance between them and the Wakahisa, and he wanted to keep his options open.
"When that day comes," Jiraiya went on, "I would be honoured if we all dealt with it side by side, Hokage and Mizukage together as we are now."
If you pool your resources with mine and help me rescue Naruto, thereby securing my position in Leaf, I'll use it to support Kurosawa's claim to the hat in the face of Yagura wanting it back.
"If I may be so bold," the Mori kid interjected before the adults in the room could decide on their next move, "I think the Hokage has perfectly expressed one of the Fourth Mizukage's core teachings, that unity is strength and is forged from recognition of a common foe. I'm sure many in Mist would be delighted to learn that the Fifth is carrying that teaching with her into this coming new age."
Jiraiya hid his surprise. Suddenly things were getting interesting, because what the girl had just said was,
The third party I represent will back the Mizukage's claim to power against all
future challengers if she can prove herself by making this alliance work and taking down Akatsuki. He was damned if he knew who the third party actually was, though he had a few guesses, but the effect on the others was unmistakable.
Mori Biwako gave her a "We're going to have words about this when we get home, young lady" look, and wouldn't Jiraiya pay to be a fly on
that wall. Ryūgamine gave a dry chuckle, which was what he did when he decided that the enemy hadn't brought enough men (which was to say, every damn time). Wakahisa laughed boisterously, with an ambiguous note of approval. And the Mizukage… the Mizukage had a pleasant expression that gave away nothing, because of course she did.
Jiraiya had a distinct sense that he'd just seen a piece of Mist's internal politics that an outsider wasn't meant to see. His mind was already going into overdrive. What did the kid have to gain from pulling this stunt in front of him? How had she even made it to this dinner if she wasn't on the same page as her clan head? How had Mori Biwako, a woman he was pretty sure had already worked out a counter to every one of his publicly known techniques, and at least half of the rest, been taken off guard by one of her own?
The pieces clicked into place one by one. Mori Biwako had the Mizukage's permission to bring her husband to this dinner.
That had been a transparent enough show of strength. On even footing, Jiraiya reckoned he could take Ryūgamine three times out of four—but there was no such thing as even footing against a shinobi who never held back, never ran out of firepower and never left anything to chance. Jiraiya should have hated the bastard after everything he'd done, and without a doubt, that woman was watching to see if he'd let his emotions cloud his judgement when suddenly faced with an old foe. But Jiraiya had found, during the war, that by the time you were waist-deep in blood you started to care less which of a thousand enemies had spilled it, and while he might never forgive the man for what he'd done, he wasn't going to spend nights awake thinking about him either.
No, the interesting part was that it was a show of strength against the Mizukage as well. Back in the day, Mori Ryūgamine had been tipped for the hat, and to this day it was unclear (at least to Leaf) why he'd yielded it to the younger and less experienced Yagura. It wasn't the Frozen Skein. That hadn't been in Ryūgamine's Bingo Book entry, suggesting that he'd married into the clan and his logistical brilliance was entirely his own. Bringing him to an event like this
was a show of support, a trial for Jiraiya to overcome while the Mizukage watched and waited for opportunities. But at the same time it was a reminder for the Mizukage to toe the party line. She was replaceable, and they didn't want her to forget it.
So the Mizukage had allowed Mori Biwako to bring him here. It was ultimately in her interests, and Jiraiya suspected it would have cost her to refuse. She wanted a controlled environment, without a large audience, but she also didn't want to be forced into siding with Jiraiya if it came to a two-on-one conflict against the Mori, so she invited Wakahisa—she had the necessary pretext, the "family gathering", and presumably she expected him to ally with her if push came to shove. Jiraiya didn't know enough to tell how justified that was, or why.
Now, assuming that enormous chain of guesses and assumptions was right, Mori Biwako had taken advantage of one family member's invitation to bring in another. The kid—no, it was worth making a note of her name now—
Mori Ami was an effective counter to that woman's efforts to restore the numbers advantage, and with the former Mizukage candidate
and a third faction's representative on board, the Mori clan head must have been preparing a serious blow against the Mizukage. Jiraiya imagined she'd force her to commit to something big in front of him, something which would strengthen the Mori's position and advance their own agenda in the negotiations.
All within the context of a pleasant family dinner, of course, without any of those other pesky diplomats to get in the way.
Then her darling grandsomething had swept the carpet from under her. In a context where the Mizukage was being reminded of her vulnerability before her backers (which Jiraiya assumed the Mori to be), Mori Ami was offering the woman the support she needed, on the condition that she follow Ami's foreign policy. At the same time, she was essentially holding the threat of alliance with the Hokage over everybody's head, saying that if
they weren't going to steer the negotiations the way she wanted, she'd back the Hokage who would. Jiraiya almost wanted the Mizukage and Mori Biwako to turn her down just so he could see what her game plan was for supporting the sovereign leader of another state against her own. He doubted she was going to go the Keiko route.
Oh, and technically there was a message in there for him as well. If he didn't put his money where his mouth was when it came to making this alliance, then
he would become the common foe, and Ami's faction would make sure Mist unified against him. Without any knowledge of what that faction was (something Ami was blatantly taking advantage of), Jiraiya had no way of evaluating the threat. Not that it mattered. She was either on board with his key diplomatic goals, or pretending well enough to serve his purposes, at least for now.
"To go back to an earlier topic," the Mizukage said calmly, "I should also make sure you have directions to the graveyard where Lady Gōketsu's uncle is buried. I understand he was a father figure to her, and you may wish to pay your respects."
Was he now?
Jiraiya knew he shouldn't speculate. You didn't make random guesses about something like this. But he'd been with more women than even Mori Biwako would be able to count, and if you were the kind of man who cared about what was happening
behind the breasts, there were some patterns you eventually learned to notice.
But it wouldn't be fair to the departed to assume something like this. It could have been a teacher. It could have been a teammate. It could have been a trusted friend. Hell, Jiraiya could be completely wrong about the whole thing. It wasn't like Mari herself had ever said anything. (Not that he'd expect her to, after their bare handful of months together.)
"I understand he disappeared nine, ten years ago," the Mizukage went on. "Presumed dead, but no body was ever found. It isn't ordinary procedure, but I believe there is some talk now of reopening the case, as a courtesy to Lady Gōketsu."
Damn. Fuck. Damn.
…Fuck.
Nine, ten years ago. When Mari would have still been a kid, but finally coming into her own as a ninja. Infiltration. Seduction. Assassination.
Fuck.
Jiraiya used all of the power of the world's greatest spymaster to assume an expression of mild surprise. "She never told me," he said, his mind racing to find the most plausible and least damaging response to the offer of reinvestigation. "But I can't help thinking that digging up the ghosts of the past might hurt her more than it helps."
The Mizukage gave an enchanting smile. "Of course. Well, if you would prefer for the mystery to remain unsolved, all we can do is acquiesce to your request."
"If you ever change your mind," Mori Ami spoke up, "please feel free to get in touch with me instead. I have some ANBU contacts who would be happy to carry out an investigation like this in their spare time, without having to tie up the Mizukage's valuable resources on a cold case."
Ally with me and I'll remove the sword the Mizukage has hung over your head. If you'd rather not, I can play blackmail with the best of them.
Jiraiya glanced down at his plate with well-concealed despondency. They were still only on the second course.
