The party was, for once, being held indoors. The kami that had generously held back when the Gōketsu ended up holding the wedding on an inauspicious day were making up for lost time. Lightning, wind, and water held dominion tonight, and Hazō didn't dare peek outside in case he found that the other two had decided to join the fun. Still, for all that the dining hall might be the one safe spot in the middle of an elemental apocalypse, he couldn't deny that the weather fit the electrified mood. Hazō had made a point of not giving away the reason for the party, and merely deployed Mari to make sure the three guests of honour were in attendance by hook or by crook. But that was no problem for the couple of dozen ninja who'd gathered here tonight—to the typical genin, survival alone was cause to celebrate, and if the deeply strange but benevolent and generous clan ninja who'd provided them with new homes had an extra reason to be happy, then they wouldn't hesitate to celebrate that as well.
The biggest clue that something special was up was the makeshift stage hastily thrown together by the Ishihara Workshop. Hazō sat in the middle, the thrill of an opportunity to do simple, genuine good (and maybe a little bit of mischief) running through his heart. To his left, Mari was grinning like a loon (Hazō wondered if her elements being at their peak was doing something for her mood), Keiko was lost in thought, and Kagome-sensei was trying to figure out how to look welcoming (an effort undermined by his crossed arms and the frown of a man unable to give an entire crowd of ninja the benefit of the doubt). To his right, Akane was smiling as joyfully as if she were the one being adopted, Noburi and Yuno were lost in each other, and Haru was watching Hazō like a hawk as if concerned that Hazō might take a swerve into typical clan selfishness at the last second.
And of course, there were also three empty seats, seemingly set aside for high-ranking guests.
Finally, Hazō judged that the mood was right (though he didn't waste the opportunity to give Mari a quick confirming glance).
He stood up.
"Thank you all for coming," he said, projecting his voice across the hall. "Right now, I bet you're all glad you didn't have to travel far!"
There was a round of chuckles.
"Tonight is a night of joy," he announced. "Tonight, we raise our cups to celebrate the brave men and women of Leaf who live and work at the Gōketsu estate. Every day, I see how hard you work and how hard you train in the name of Leaf, and it makes me prouder than I can say that I have the privilege of living among you. The other clans may shake their heads at the young fool opening his doors to those not of his blood—as if the Gōketsu ever cared about blood—but if they knew how much I've learned and how much I've gained from being with you, they'd be beating their heads against the wall because they didn't think of it first!"
There was a cheer.
"Now," Hazō said, "I'd love to say eat and drink to your heart's content, and I promise in a few minutes I'm going to say that very thing, but first, we have some very important business to attend to. You see, even among all the great ninja gathered here tonight, and the rest of our comrades who are here in spirit, three people have excelled beyond measure. It is time their service, extraordinary and exemplary, was recognised the way it deserves to be."
He gave a dramatic pause. Held it for just long enough.
"Gōketsu Atomu. Gōketsu Reo. Gōketsu Mai. Come up here."
The hall was completely silent.
After a second to decide that yes, he had heard correctly, Atomu shot to his feet, vibrating with emotion.
Reo rose more slowly, leaning on his crutch.
Mai looked around as if unsure if this was really happening, before finally rising.
"M-My Lord…" Atomu whispered, but his voice was still audible in the awed silence. He took a shaky step towards the stage. Another. A third.
Reo seemed to hesitate, but finally followed. His eyes were locked on Hazō's, looking for something.
Mai, though, looked back and forth between the stage and the genin seats in an expression of near panic. Finally, one of the other chūnin hobbled up to her and whispered something in her ear. Mai paused, then nodded and walked more steadily to join the other two.
They reached the foot of the stage side by side, and Hazō opened his mouth for words of welcome.
Then Keiko was there, at the top of the stairs, blocking the three ninja's way up.
They stopped, and watched her anxiously. Something was about to happen, Hazō's instincts told him, something with repercussions.
"Gishi Atomu," she said with a ritual cadence to her voice. "Kōho Reo. Mayoi Mai. The Konoha Enlightenment Initiative respects your choice. Know that while your membership is forfeit, the KEI's protection is not. If your lord ever abuses the gift you have given him, the free shinobi of Leaf will stand with you in the name of justice."
Then, she took a step to the side, clearing a path.
"Welcome, fellow Gōketsu," she said with as much warmth as Keiko was able to offer a stranger, "from one side of my family to another."
With that, she took her seat again, and Atomu, Reo, and Mai ascended the stairs.
Hazō, slightly miffed that Keiko had stolen his thunder, but confident that there was still plenty to go round, turned to the three ninja.
He was not remotely surprised when Atomu sank to one knee, following the proper form of the adoption ritual.
"This is your final moment of choice. Atomu, will you swear loyalty to the Gōketsu Clan, to its people, and to its ideals? Will you accept me as your leader, the people upon this stage as your family, and the Gōketsu creed as your way of life?"
"I-I so swear, My Lord," Atomu said, forcing his voice into evenness.
"The Gōketsu have chosen the hardest path, Atomu. This is not a clan for those who seek wealth, or power, or safety. This is a clan with one purpose only: to build a better world for everyone, no matter the cost. Knowing that the cause may demand that you abandon the traditions and beliefs you hold dear, knowing it may call on you to give the fullness of your time, your strength, your wisdom, and even your life, are you still resolved to call yourself a Gōketsu?"
"I am, My Lord."
Hazō offered him his hand.
"Then rise, Gōketsu Atomu."
He stepped over to Reo (whom, in retrospect, he should have done first, since kneeling on one leg really was not a posture designed for someone missing the other).
"Reo, will you swear loyalty to the Gōketsu Clan, to its people, and to its ideals? Will you accept me as your leader, the people upon this stage as your family, and the Gōketsu creed as your way of life?"
Reo looked him in the eye. His gaze was piercing, almost painful. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for.
"I so swear, My Lord."
"Then rise, Gōketsu Reo." He offered Reo a hand up.
Finally…
"Mai, will you swear loyalty to the Gōketsu Clan, to its people, and to its ideals? Will you accept me as your leader, the people upon this stage as your family, and the Gōketsu creed as your way of life?"
Mai looked down for a few seconds, then back up.
"A better world for everyone," she repeated very softly, as if challenging him to commit.
Hazō nodded silently.
"I so swear, My Lord."
"Then rise, Gōketsu Mai." Hazō offered her his hand.
"Gōketsu Atomu, Gōketsu Reo, Gōketsu Mai." He met their eyes in turn. "I swear loyalty to you as members of my clan. When you are lost, I will guide you. When you are weak, I will give you strength. When you are threatened, I will protect you. When you serve the clan well, I will reward you in full measure, and if your actions harm it, I will be fair in my punishment. You will never regret placing your trust in me."
He beckoned them to the empty seats. Atomu and Reo took the seats next to Noburi and Yuno, and Mai the one next to Haru. Noburi tore himself away from Yuno long enough to offer the two men a quiet welcome.
Hazō turned back to the assembled crowd.
"Let me be clear on this one thing," he said. "Atomu, Reo, and Mai's reward for their outstanding service wasn't to be adopted into the clan. It was to be the first.
"I know that it is stressful for many of you to be part of this community, yet not be able to call yourselves Gōketsu. This isn't clan policy; it's a weakness of the adoption system. Each of you is important. Each of you is valued. Every last one of you without exception. And each of you will be Gōketsu as soon as we can make it so."
The hall exploded. A dozen exclamations. A dozen questions. Hope. Amazement. Disbelief. A great ball of emotion so tangled he doubted even Mari knew exactly what the partygoers were feeling.
Hazō gave them a little time, then continued.
"It won't happen overnight," he said, because these expectations would go out of control very fast if they weren't managed. "I won't say the Gōketsu can't work miracles, but even miracles take time. A couple of years, maybe, until every one of you is clan as well as comrade. Hopefully, even at worst it should only be a handful."
The excited murmurs died down. How many of these genin and crippled chūnin would still be alive in a handful of years' time?
"I promise you that we will get this done as soon as we can," Hazō said. "If you're going to take one message away from tonight, take this: the Gōketsu leave no shinobi behind.
"And if you're going to take two," he added in a lighter tone, "we need more of these dinners where I get to see all of you. If anyone finds themselves inspired with a theme for the next one, let me know. Just suggesting a cuisine is fine, but if you come up with something clever or creative—well, that's great practice for being a Gōketsu.
"Now, eat and drink to your heart's content!"
-o-
"Hazō." Keiko approached him just as he'd finished listening to a twelve-year-old hesitantly telling him there were tentacle fish under the sea that people could eat.
"Keiko," he said. "Keiko, right?"
"Statistically improbable, but accurate in this case," she allowed. "I apologise for the interruption earlier. I am confident that were Ami here, she would have discharged her coordinator duties in some ingenious and elegant fashion that did not pose an implicit challenge to your authority."
Hazō shrugged away the apology. "Totally worth it. I'm going to sleep a lot easier knowing they'll never have to think about divided loyalties, now they're no longer KEI, and I suspect they are too."
"Naïve," Keiko commented. "Loyalty and affiliation are two entirely separate phenomena."
Hazō glanced in Mai's direction. "I don't think it'll be that much of a problem. The Gōketsu and the KEI may have different priorities, but in the end, our visions are both about equality. As long as they're happy, and their actions are benefiting the clanless at least indirectly, I doubt there'll be any issues.
"Why," he asked semi-jokingly, "are any of them KEI spies?"
"Hazō," Keiko said flatly, "if you persist in wilfully placing my loyalties in direct opposition, I will be forced to pursue the simplest solution, namely murdering you.
"No, wait," she said a second later, "that would be disloyal towards the Gōketsu, and therefore not solve the problem at all. Agh."
"I'm glad you recognise that," Hazō said carefully. "It's not in my top five reasons why you shouldn't murder me, but I'll take what I can get."
"Of course you would make a list of it," Keiko said with wry exasperation.
"That aside," she said, "I do feel I need to apologise. While the present situation is unambiguously your fault, blaming you for your long-term influence on my personality is unproductive. For example, for all I know, it is because of you that someone as... emotionally withdrawn as myself was able to bond with Tenten.
"Perhaps a developing allergy to dramatic speeches led me to appreciate her laconic ways all the more," she added quickly.
"Don't worry about it," Hazō said. "Though I should warn you that I have no intention to stop influencing your personality—which, under your theory, might actually explain why you keep accumulating more partners."
"And thus I regain my motivation for murdering you," Keiko said. "Truly, this cycle is a blessed island of stability in my otherwise chaotic life."
"Instance of two individuals spending a day together in order to facilitate greater mutual knowledge and familiarity, arranged in anticipation of a potential long-term relationship, not go well, then?" He could say it all in one breath now.
"Insufficient data," Keiko said. "Life would be so much simpler if all relationships could be navigated through a mixture of dry wit, subtly-implied affection, and periodical threats of homicide."
"Simpler isn't always better," Hazō said. "Case in point: I think you may have just described my relationship with Asuma."
"Ah, yes. That. I take it the Rainbow Crusade has met with an untimely end?"
Hazō nodded. "He didn't order me to bow down to homophobia, exactly, but we have to make peace with the Hagoromo, which amounts to pretty much the same thing in practice."
"He was more restrained with the Nara," Keiko said, "ironically given our greater share of the destruction, but he did order us to consider our revenge successful and complete, and to terminate ongoing projects such as the quarantine. No matter. The Hagoromo will surely give us sufficient cause eventually, and then we will know better than to give the Hokage time to save them.
"Still, some will be hurt greatly by the decision," she said. "Not that anyone will expect you to defy the Hokage, but… there will be broken dreams, and you have taken responsibility."
Joy.
"Forgive me. I am ruining the mood. This is a night of celebration, for the Gōketsu if not the KEI. We have three new members now with whom I should force myself to establish a more personal acquaintance. Perhaps I shall derive some amusement from their reactions to Snowflake.
"Also," she added before she headed off, "I second the vote for octopus for your next dinner. Meat is expensive, and it would benefit the finances of KEI shinobi to be traumatised into vegetarianism."
As Keiko headed off, Hazō took a moment to take stock of the hall. Two dozen ninja, chattering excitedly, arguing over possible futures... He didn't know how many of them would choose adoption, in the end, if the KEI ideology kept growing stronger. He didn't even know what it meant to most of them right now. But what he saw, and what he sowed, was hope and the blossoming of possibilities. No matter what the ninja here believed, no matter what they wanted, he had shown them a vision of a future that looked nothing like the past, and he'd shown it beginning to come true.
"Lord Gōketsu," Atomu said, breaking his brief reverie. "I want to thank you again. This is incredible. This is the best day of my life."
Hazō smiled.
"Hazō," he said. "From now on, just Hazō."
-o-
You have received 3 +1 = 4 XP.
-o-
The MEW bounty has been implemented. According to the combined wisdom of the Gōketsu, there should be no need to consult Asuma as this should not be disruptive to Leaf's functioning unless every Earth-affinity ninja suddenly decides to take time off missions to learn MEW at once (and really, what are the odds of that?). With that said, Keiko noted that most ninja would only acquire the absolute minimum of skill in the technique, raising the question of just how much use it would be in practice without chakra refills. On the other hand, she also noted that this would be a good test case for the KEI Master Database, although she left without explaining what that meant.
Mari doesn't think there's any way to confirm the casting of a completely internal technique unless you are, say, a Hyūga who already knows what it looks like when done right. Questioning by an expert would allow you to make an educated guess as to whether someone is using the technique correctly (and indeed is probably part of how non-sensory clans teach such techniques), but it also risks false positives that mean people walk away thinking they have mastered the technique when it is doing nothing at all.
Having people learn YSJ would require them, at minimum, to appreciate its utility, meaning they would have to believe that its benefits are sufficient for spending time and effort on learning it. This is a significant obstacle since only the Yamanaka understand what "mental stability" even means in the context of the technique, and it certainly doesn't sound like something that would enhance survival the way, say, spending that time on evasion training would. There is also the slight issue of sticking something into your brain that was created by the mind invasion clan and follows design principles you do not understand due to not having a background in Yamanaka secret arts.
As it happens, Tsunade has you beaten when it comes to medic-nin. It should come as no surprise that Asuma is prepared to bend over backwards to accommodate her funding requests, so when she says trainee medic-nin get a stipend sufficient to live on so they can study properly, they get a stipend sufficient to live on so they can study properly. The idea of getting paid not to go on missions has proved popular among the genin population, although in practice only so many new applicants meet Tsunade's exacting standards.
-o-
Happy Thursday and other sundry festivals to all MfD players and readers!
-o-
What do you do?
Voting closes on Saturday 28th of November, 1 p.m. New York time.
