"…however, while Itachi acknowledged receipt of the letter, he dismissed the request for cooperation, claiming he had found it of no interest."
Hazō had been careful to leave this part till last. The mission had on the whole been a remarkable success, given what he'd had to work with. He'd taken pains to emphasise this so that when he finally reached the most dangerous part of his report, Asuma would be more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and discuss implications, and less inclined to summon Enma to tear his head off on the spot.
In an ideal world, or at least as ideal as you could get while Uplift was still a work in progress, Hazō would have headed straight home to consult Mari. Unfortunately, Haru had been uncompromising. His reaction, once they were safely on the way home and out of Akatsuki earshot, had featured words like "monsters", "casual massacres" and "treason", and a flat statement that if Hazō did not go directly to the Hokage and tell him everything, Haru would. Attempts to persuade him otherwise fell on deaf ears—Haru's clan head of five minutes was not going to be able to argue that his judgement trumped the Hokage's.
Right now, Haru should have been in front of the Hokage anyway, being debriefed alongside the rest of the team, but Hazō had sent them to the estate, pleading exhaustion, or need to check on the clan, or some other excuse that was so flimsy he wasn't even sure he remembered it. They'd have to turn up soon, but a minor breach of protocol wasn't as important as getting Mari caught up and on her way as soon as possible.
"What the hell, Hazō?"
Asuma's motion was near-instant as he half-rose, slamming his hands on the table. It spoke of a certain kind of personality that when his hands touched the wood, it was with a heartfelt slap rather than a heavy, potentially wood-breaking blow (Hazō had a brief sentimental thought about Jiraiya and the man's poor relationship with furniture).
"You went over my head and engaged in private negotiations with a hostile force that we would declare war on this instant if we dared. Hazō, there is only one word for that." Asuma's voice was even, but his knuckles were white.
"It was for the good of Leaf," Hazō insisted gently but firmly. "When I sent the letter, Naruto and Tsunade were both grievously injured, and Orochimaru was… Orochimaru. There was every chance of another attack, and we needed powerful allies, no matter the cost. The village's very survival was at stake. You know Hyūga would have refused to deal with them unless it was at kunai-point, just because they were who they were. But if I could bring him an offer of cooperation from the most powerful men and women in the world as a fait accompli, he wouldn't have been so insane as to turn it down."
"I'm not going to speak ill of the dead while there's still a whole clan grieving," Asuma said. "Yes, he'd have refused. Yes, he'd have done it for the wrong reasons. We can leave it at that for now.
"But he would have been
right.
"Our enemies chose not to finish us off after we were crippled at Nagi Island. With Naruto and Tsunade out of action, Orochimaru not yet in Leaf, key clans decapitated and no Hokage to rally a defence, there could not have been a better time to destroy us. They
didn't. Our priority ever since has not been emergency defence. It has been to keep our heads down and rebuild. You could have ended that by calling a devastating force down upon us, and Sage knows Akatsuki have much more reason to hate us than to love us."
"They want peace," Hazō said. "Or at least that was their leader's last wish, and they worshipped him... or more. If they wanted revenge, they could have attacked a day later—they'd have recovered all their chakra, while our army stayed gone. If they'd decided not to attack us, then a request for peaceful cooperation wasn't going to be what swayed them the other way."
"That's not your decision to make," Asuma said with forced calm. "It's the Hokage's. Or do you think every clan head should have the right to go over the Hokage's head when they think they know better?"
"But Hyūga—"
"The Hokage might not be the wisest or most experienced leader in the village," Asuma said. "Recent times are proof of that. But you know what I have, and Hiashi had, that you don't? A village of experts ready to assemble on command. There would have been a Clan Council meeting. There would have been a discussion, determining the village's official policy on Akatsuki, and our finest diplomats and negotiators would have written
Leaf's letter. That is how you're supposed to do this. You don't just write whatever sounds right. First contact is precious, and you've poisoned that well for us."
"It wouldn't have mattered," Hazō said. "I took action exactly because there wouldn't have been any of those things—because Hyūga would have dismissed the idea."
"As would have been his right. The Hokage, and only the Hokage, gets to make choices that could put the village in danger.
"I'm not claiming Hiashi was a good Hokage for that sliver of time he was in charge. I'm not claiming I liked him or his policies. But do you know the word for when you ignore a Hokage's authority because you don't like him or his policies?"
Asuma sat back down heavily. He took a few breaths to re-establish calm, but they seemed to have the opposite effect, as if they'd relaxed him enough to unleash something buried beneath the tension.
"How did an idea like that even occur to you?" he demanded. "They killed your father! His ashes are still warm, and you're already offering an olive branch to his murderers? These are the people who tortured your stepbrother by
tearing at his soul! These are the people who spilled so much blood at Nagi that you can't find one person in the street who didn't lose someone they know!
"I get what it means to grit your teeth and play nice when every part of you is craving revenge, Hazō. I would break the Tsuchikage's chest open and rip out her heart if I could, and instead I have to smile and thank her for her aid in rebuilding the homes that she destroyed. But that's part of being Hokage—when you take the hat, you swear that you will do whatever it takes to protect the village, even if it means crossing moral lines that no man should ever be forced to cross.
"But for a man to think of his father's murderers as they lurk somewhere in the unknown, and say to himself, 'Why not make the seal of reconciliation in case something comes of it in the future?' I can't understand someone who thinks that way. I don't want to."
"With respect, you're wrong," Hazō said fiercely. "I haven't forgotten who they are or what they did. I wake up every morning to a house without Jiraiya in it. I go get breakfast without Jiraiya at the table. I head out without Jiraiya telling me not to get into too much trouble, and I come back without him asking what new way I've found to blow up the village today. I haven't forgotten that he is dead while they are all still alive, and I never will.
"But we need them more than we need my feelings. I don't want this to come out wrong, but I'll say it anyway: Asuma, sir, you don't have a monopoly on self-sacrifice. Every ninja in this village is willing to do whatever it takes to protect it, and if in my case that just means gritting my teeth and playing nice, then I should praise the Will of Fire that I'm getting the cushy job."
For a long few seconds, the Hokage and Hazō locked gazes. One, a spear of condemnation against which there could be no defence. The other, a shield of conviction that no adversity could pierce.
"Squirrel! Kite!" Asuma barked without lowering his gaze.
Two ANBU appeared out of nowhere at his sides.
"Take Lord Gōketsu to Waiting Room Seven. I need to think."
-o-
Hazō studied Waiting Room Seven, his eyes taking in every brick (yes, every stone brick) and every crack. The waiting room was quite nicely laid out, with a round table decorated with a floral pattern, a couple of slim wooden chairs, and a ceramic tea set.
It was also the killbox.
That was where Jiraiya had stood with his purple killer ninjutsu, a second away from massacring them.
That was where Mari had sat against the wall, refusing to look at Hazō.
There was the corner where Keiko had been cowering before standing up for her final desperate appeal. And, of course,
there was the door that had been a symbol of unreachable salvation for Team Uplift during what were nearly their final moments.
It wasn't open, but it also wasn't locked. Hazō couldn't decide whether that was symbolic.
Hazō strongly doubted that he had been sent here by accident. But what was the message? Was it as blatant as "I can have you killed any time I want"? Or maybe a more subtle "You still haven't learned your lesson?" Asuma's team had been Uplift's guides through Leaf on the visit that had culminated in... that.
Either way, just being in this room felt like a kunai was slowly pushing its way through his heart. It was testament to Hazō's growth that he could sit in a place like this and still think straight.
Asuma couldn't
actually killbox him, could he? In Mist, Yagura had not discriminated by status—arguably one of his few virtues—and while Hazō didn't know of any actual cases of clan heads being executed, the pervasive public opinion had been that he could and would. Maybe the reason the clan heads were so compliant was that they knew Yagura would be happy to make an example of the first to step out of line. Or maybe it was just propaganda and in reality he had to reckon with political pressure as much as mere mortals did. Even now, nearly three years of outside perspective later, Hazō couldn't comprehend the full nature of Yagura's regime.
But this wasn't Mist, and Asuma and Yagura were about as alike as Akatsuki and houseplants. Here in Leaf, a village founded on consensus without conquest, the relationship between Kage and clan seemed more like a legal contract: security in exchange for loyalty. You couldn't violate that contract without serious political repercussions. Asuma could do anything to Hazō (
especially Hazō, the young newcomer threatening the status quo) and the clans would not outright rebel, but they would make Asuma pay a heavy price to make sure he thought long and hard before he did it again, to any of
them.
Then again, if the Hokage refusing to protect his people was violation in one direction, then a clan head showing disloyalty was violation in the other. If Asuma could demonstrate to the Clan Council that there was a watertight case against Hazō (which there was—he'd personally confessed to an act of treason), then they'd have no choice but to back his judgement or look disloyal themselves by defending a known traitor. In that case, Asuma would want to punish Hazō more severely, so as to set a precedent for how far he could go in disciplining a clan head.
"M'lord," a voice cut into his contemplations, "Lord Hokage is ready to speak with you. Please follow me."
-o-
"Gōketsu Hazō," Asuma said without preamble, "for the crime of treason against the state, I hereby sentence you to death by decapitation.
"Take him away."
-o-
Hazō paced back and forth across his cell despondently.
Being a cell reserved for clan ninja, it was about on the level of middle-class civilian housing. In deference to his status, he had also been brought a few books of choice, but while there were plenty on preparing for inevitable death (he was a ninja living in a ninja village), none of them were actually useful. He wasn't allowed any visitors. He couldn't send messages out, and it seemed he couldn't get messages in. His guards were unfailingly polite and prepared to see to his every need, but they didn't engage in conversation (when asked persistently, one explained that it was against protocol to exchange information with traitors).
Somewhere out there, the wheels of Leaf life were still spinning. Was Mari raising an insurrection on his behalf? On the one hand, he didn't want to die. On the other hand, he also didn't want his loved ones to get killed trying to help him.
Hazō stopped dead.
Sage's ballsack. Kagome-sensei.
Hazō prayed to some power unknown (not the ancestors, who hated him, or the Will of Fire, which had judged him a traitor) that someone had managed to restrain Kagome-sensei in time. He reassured himself that they must have, because otherwise he'd have heard the explosion from here.
Hazō returned to pacing. Execution. Could Asuma really execute him? It was hard to believe that a new, vulnerable Hokage would be prepared to endure the backlash from executing a clan head. He wouldn't want to destroy the Gōketsu either, which this surely would. Whatever Hazō's personal flaws, the fact was that they were punching well above their weight when it came to positive contributions to Leaf, and only getting better over time. Hell, they'd just brought Leaf the
Porcupine Scroll. If that didn't buy some measure of consideration, what would? Should he have fetched Hidan's head on a plate, rest of Hidan optional?
It simply didn't make sense. Hazō had done nothing wrong. It had been reasonable to judge, back in that time of crisis, that Leaf needed Akatsuki, or at least that Leaf's existence would be much more secure with a friendly Akatsuki. Granted, the Akatsuki he'd met had turned out to be unstable and/or psychotic, but
at the time it had seemed like a potential solution to some of Leaf's biggest problems. Or would it have been better for Hazō to stay quiet and accept Hyūga's judgement in all things, even if it resulted in the village's destruction because the man was too hidebound and myopic to recognise a critical opportunity?
Hazō had done nothing wrong. He could accept that some punishment was necessary for bypassing Hyūga—he himself would be
furious if, say, Kagome-sensei tried to communicate with Hidden Cloud without talking to him first. But he hadn't done it because he wanted to ally with enemies of Leaf. He'd done it to make Leaf new allies. If motivations ever counted for anything, surely they should count now?
He'd come too far. The Gōketsu were finally flourishing. Uplift was in full swing. He couldn't die now, not for trying to do the right thing.
He couldn't die. He'd speak to Asuma one last time, before the execution. As clan head, he would demand the right. Between now and then, he had to craft the ultimate argument. He would seize on every issue—political, ethical, outright personal—and make Asuma accept that a loyal if misguided ninja was infinitely better than one killed to make a point about Asuma's authority.
-o-
Three days later…
Hazō stepped into the Hokage's Office, ANBU on each side. This was it. He was out of time, in every possible way. This would be his moment to seize back his life right before it was taken away from him. He really did feel like he was in the killbox all over again—and that time, he hadn't been the one to save them. Today, he'd have to do better.
Asuma gave him a look of perfect seriousness. He did not offer a greeting.
"Sir," Hazō began, "I want you to—"
"You're free to go."
Hazō choked, every word of his speech vanishing from his head as if blown away by an explosive tag.
"I'm sorry?"
"You have been acquitted of all charges," Asuma said calmly. "Please don't waste my time like this in the future."
Hazō slowly, un-threateningly, brought his hands together into the seal for the Dispelling Technique. Nothing changed.
Asuma gave him a disparaging look.
"I'm sure your friends outside will explain matters to you. Go.
"Oh, and before I forget, thank you for the Akatsuki intel. It will help inform Leaf policy going forward."
Hazō began to walk away unsteadily. Right before he passed through the door, Asuma spoke very softly to his back.
"Don't make me regret this."
Hazō would make sure he didn't… as soon as he understood what "this" was.
Then, the second he was out of the building...
"Welcome back!"
Hazō was still so dizzy with the sudden reversal of his fortunes that he nearly forfeited his life by pure accident, namely by bumping into Keiko.
"Keiko!" he exclaimed. "You're all right!"
"As are you," Keiko said sardonically, "though not for lack of effort."
"And the others?" Hazō asked anxiously, ignoring Keiko's typical way of expressing affection. "Ami? Naruto?"
-o-
Target acquired.
Move in as planned. Trigram pattern.
Attack in three…
Two…
One…
The inevitable clink as Ami's thrown kunai was deflected away from the Condor Summoner's head marked the start of the battle.
"Summoning Technique!"
There had always been a tiny chance that they could eliminate the summoner before she could summon, but no one present had lived this long by counting on best-case scenarios. Responding to Kei's call, Pandamonium and Panarama, Pangolin artillery specialists, popped into the existence next to her. Pangolins could not use skywalkers, and Kei would slit her own throat before she gave them a chance to reverse-engineer them, which limited the pair's use considerably. Rather, their appearance was key to Kei's own role within the battle: broadly, as the Pangolin Summoner. Narrowly, as bait.
Kei thought she had appreciated the full significance of this (her presence on the field was the only reason the Condor Summoner and her allies did not simply fly away; skywalkers were no match for a natural flyer going at full speed), but apparently it had been too long since missing-nin life had taught her the true nature of the world. She had forgotten what it was to be a small creature constantly at the mercy of greater powers.
As the vast shadow of Conjura, the Condor Clan boss, blotted out the sky, she remembered.
Distance was no protection from the full sight of her. Her talons were longer than a grown man was tall. Her beak was large enough to uproot trees as if they were twigs. Her broad back left plenty of room even after the summoner and her two bodyguards (hardened jōnin both, based on age and attitude) climbed aboard, now shielded from assault by her huge bulk. And then Conjura spread her wings.
The only reason Kei did not faint was that her introduction to the Seventh Path had been facing Pantsā in all his wrathful majesty. Unlike the others—Ami and the jōnin paled; the Narutos' grins froze on their faces—Kei had known they were about to face terror incarnate, and had braced herself as best she could.
The first strike reduced her to bloody mist.
No, she was still alive. A Naruto had tackled her in a headlong dive, carrying both of them away from the explosive tag even as it detonated. Merely gazing upon Conjura preparing to strike had been enough to give her a vision of her own death.
Explosive tags? Of course. Conjura was already overhead, and her allies were no mere passengers.
Kei's team filled the sky with kunai in return, and Naruto with his ninjutsu (of course he had ranged ninjutsu; it would have been madness for someone with his chakra reserves and training potential to restrict himself to melee). On the Seventh Path, Conjura was worth an army. Here, she was also worth an army, but an army that would be dispelled with one clean hit.
The first of their plans had been to time their assault to the beating of her wings, aiming for the moments when she was least manoeuvrable. But incredibly, the boss of the flying clan did not need to fly.
Every few seconds, she was simply somewhere else, a brief blur in the air the only announcement of her arrival. The pangolins, slow to evade, disappeared in two flickers of motion. The jōnin, their focus on casting support ninjutsu everywhere like fortune beans on Traitor Banishment Day, were still alive purely due to superior reflexes and the fact that skywalker evasion allowed a vertical drop down, a possibility Conjura's combat style did not account for.
Somewhere above, there was a satisfying scream of visceral agony as one of the enemy ninja flung himself between the summoner and a well-aimed Rasengan counter, proving that while Conjura existed wherever she liked at any given time, her human allies were still vulnerable to disorientation.
The other ninja fell, his chakra adhesion not strong enough to endure one of Conjura's more powerful teleportation ninjutsu. Naruto was on him in moments, before she could catch him again. But as the enemy ranks thinned, so did theirs, Naruto by Naruto. No one had any illusions as to what would happen if they ran out.
Enough Narutos stayed close to Kei, in accordance with the Frozen Skein-optimised defensive formation, that the risk to her own life was merely high. No, she was much more afraid for Ami, who had declared her intention to protect Kei "no matter the cost". Ami, who would be eliminated in a heartbeat the instant Conjura deemed her a threat on Naruto's level.
Suddenly, her heart soared higher than any condor.
A Rasengan, perfectly timed and placed, had struck Conjura directly in the—
No, Conjura was fine. The blow had been well-aimed, but she had aborted early, disappearing to strike a new target with what Kei had mentally dubbed the Flying Condor God Technique. So why did Kei remember…?
She shook her head. It did not matter. Likely mere disorientation. Kei's defence against otherwise certain death, Ami's Eagle-Dominating Technique (to Kei's protests, she had replied that eagles were obviously better, so anything that worked on one would work on the other) required three-dimensional twists and turns far beyond what a sane person could conceive of, much less choreograph, and said volumes about a woman who had never worn skywalkers until this mission. That said, Kei had a strong suspicion that the nausea would kill her before Conjura ever did.
A predatory screech. A talon slash so fast it could be registered only by the sudden absence of a clone. The condor abomination already battling another Naruto halfway across the sky.
Finally, Conjura was taken by surprise. One Naruto clone seized another by the arm and threw it in a mighty spin just as teleportation ended. A Rasengan shattered the—
Conjura was somewhere else. Had been somewhere else for several seconds now, still engaged in the melee Kei had thought she left. Again, that mismatched memory…
The realisation struck her like a giant murderous condor to the face.
Only a fool learns from his own mistakes. The wise man learns from the mistakes of others. But the space-time master learns from mistakes he never made.
Kei had always assumed it was a joke.
Clones in the single digits now, more vanishing by the second.
At last, Conjura took a break from finding Rasengan-free angles from which to destroy Naruto, and came for her. She hoped Tenten would be able to find someone else.
Great talons blocked out her vision and her future both, and then…
Impact.
Conjura exploded into a literal cloud of mist.
This was what it truly meant to be bait. It meant knowing where the enemy would inevitably target. It meant knowing where they would have to go.
In itself, it had not been enough. Even with the best planning and foreknowledge, the survivors had been unable to stop Conjura as she violated time and space to swoop in for the kill. All they had been able to do was reach out in vain… and then, by sheer luck, a single Naruto's Rasengan clipped the edge of a wing, in a grazing blow that would not even have killed a human.
Thus by ill fortune were great armies unmade.
In perfect silence, the summoner fell. No one would ever know what desperate final technique she intended to unleash, as in the instant her hands began to shape seals, Ami's kunai took her in the throat.
The battle concluded without a drop of Leaf blood spilled.
-o-
"It seems our lives were in less danger than yours," Keiko said. "You may observe Ami standing directly next to me. Naruto is unharmed, though he has elected not to be present, and likewise jōnin Hitachi and Kanata. I understand Pandamonium and Panarama are feeling humiliated by their poor performance at this historic battle, but on the other hand, they were able to gain valuable negotiation experience selling the Pangolin Conditioning Technique to my teammates—a proposal of Pankurashun's which conveniently bypasses any conflict of responsibilities on my part."
Hazō felt a rush of delayed euphoria. He was alive. Keiko was alive. Ami and Naruto were alive. He only dimly recognised the names of Hitachi and Kanata, but they, too, were alive to enjoy the spectacle of Hazō's liberation.
Which remained a mystery. Granted, any Kage would seem liberal after Hyūga, but a three-day turnaround between certain death and total forgiveness seemed almost suspicious.
"Doubtless you have questions," Keiko said. "Allow me to summarise the key series of events for you so that we may move on swiftly to more interesting matters. Upon my return, I was promptly sought out by Mari, who informed me that within days of my departure from Leaf, you had naturally gotten yourself sentenced to execution for treason. After some discussion, the two of us sought out Ami. After some further discussion, the three of us sought out Shikamaru. Thence we all parted ways to play our individual parts in Operation Forestall the Inevitable (unofficial name).
"Within the last twenty-four hours, the Hokage has received:
"Firstly, passionate missives from every inhabitant of the present Gōketsu estate, clan and otherwise, affirming that while Lord Gōketsu may at times appear eccentric, foolish, or outright insane, he is a man of strong moral fibre, as far from any contemplation of treason as he is from the traditional conventions of shinobi life. Of note is one considerably less passionate, though of course not coerced, missive coming from a Gōketsu Haru.
"Secondly, a joint letter to similar effect signed by a number of KEI ninja. A politically significant number of KEI ninja, one might say.
"Thirdly, a comprehensive Nara report on the use of genjutsu to implant false memories, supported by testimony from Leaf's resident expert in memory manipulation, with whom you may be acquainted. Shikamaru wishes to emphasise that he is not involving himself in any way with your political situation, but only performing a favour for his beloved wife.
"Fourthly and finally, a
very expensive granite tablet, engraved with an affidavit from Pantsā himself to the effect that the Pangolin Clan has no knowledge of any letters sent or received by the Gōketsu Clan on the Seventh Path.
"These, in combination, have led the Hokage to re-examine your case and dismiss your testimony as illegitimate. Honestly, Hazō," Keiko said with a smile, "after all our time with Mari, you still allow yourself to be manipulated into making self-incriminating statements by a genjutsu master?"
Ami shook her head. "All that time and effort spent inventing letters to mess with you, and then Uchiha Itachi tops me just by looking you in the eye? I need to up my game. Now c'mon, let's go."
"Go where?" Hazō asked, as though there could ever be more than one answer.
"Your compound, duh. What possible reason could there be for Mari and company not to be here unless they're preparing some kind of welcome-back party? And a party means tasty things. And tasty things mean I'm invited."
Hazō took one last look back at the Hokage Tower. Could anyone ever have imagined such a bizarre sequence of events? Or, it struck him, what would it imply if they could?
"Right this way, Lord Gōketsu," Ami said playfully, heading away from his uncertainty and towards home. "Your family has been waiting to welcome you back. Hopefully with cake."
-o-
You have received 9 XP.
-o-
The battle is a best-effort direct rendition of the simulation, with a ton of failed and blocked attacks taking place offscreen.
Note: Ami and Keiko and Naruto as a set survived about 10% of test runs. There wasn't a single test run with
this outcome.
-o-
What do you do?
Voting ends on Thursday 14th of May, 12 p.m. London time.