A funereal mood hung over the Council of Mari as the anniversary of Jiraiya's death was still fresh in mind. Guardian Mari had attempted to brighten up the room with Lightning-style paper lanterns that cast a warm, gentle light on the assembled women, and placed sakura trees swaying gently in the breeze outside the window (in a stab at distracting them from early January), but in the end, she was a warrior trying to do a healer's job using interior decoration. Sardonic Mari had nearly driven her to tears with an excoriation that wasn't balanced by Jiraiya's pleasant dry wit.
"So," Hazō-Wrangler Mari began, "who wants to give the kid his report? Managerial Mari, this is more your thing than mine. I'm damage control, and Sage knows I've been working overtime."
Managerial Mari manifested a stack of papers, leafed through them, then put them down on the floor next to her armchair, where they disappeared as soon as she stopped paying attention. "I think not. This isn't an organisational issue; it's an interpersonal one, and an inefficient use of our time besides. We could be getting sent out to the front any day now—also an inefficient use of our time when we're infiltrators first and combatants second—and we're busy babysitting a little twerp in the name of a belief even Hazō can't make himself take seriously."
"Yakuza are people too," the Heartbreaker said mockingly. "I was just starting to have hopes for Haru—his technique was crude, but in terms of leveraging assets? Mmm." She gave her fingers a chef's kiss. "I still think we can use him. Sure, he's going to have to behave while he's under Hazō's Byakugan, but once we teach him a little subtlety, he'll be a lovely little enforcer to make up for all our darling bleeding hearts."
"Haru is a good person," Mariko objected. "He's just lost his way a little. He was nice to all those families, wasn't he?"
Sardonic Mari chuckled. "Oh, you sweet summer child."
Mariko tilted her head slightly in confusion. "We were born at the end of October. Don't you remember? The other kids used to call us a ghost child, but then Uncle Kazuhiro—"
Mariko disappeared, fading from existence like a reflection in a draining pool of water.
"It'll take a lot of teaching," Pragmatic Mari replied. "A blind man couldn't have missed the contempt in his eyes during those apologies. Well, a blind professional. I suspect the civilians were too terrified to notice
anything. It was a mistake to waste money from our barely-existent coffers on them."
"You're both missing the point." Uplift Mari's voice was soft, but the vibrant strength behind it carried. "This is a crucial time for Haru. He can despise the yakuza all he wants, but this is our time to make him understand their shared humanity. Case in point, he saw the yakuza taking care of their own. Those families were in a dark place emotionally, but they weren't destitute like we'd figured. I believe he can absorb the universality of Uplift, out of practicality if not out of compassion."
"You think he'll ever forgive Hazō?" Wrathful Mari sneered. "We sure as hell wouldn't after a show like that, and Haru's no saint either. I'd watch out for piranhas in the bath."
"He'll understand," Uplift Mari said patiently. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but he'll understand."
"Instinct always wins in the end," Harlot Mari said with a wink. "Bet you an afternoon with Ami."
"The full afternoon? Like hell you do!" Sensual Mari exclaimed as the room erupted into clamour.
-o-
In the evening, after Hazō returns from visiting Ino...
"That concludes my thrilling report," Mari said with a pointed yawn, helping herself to another mug of hot chocolate as they sat together at the kitchen table.
"Thanks, Mari," Hazō said. "I wish there was something more conclusive, but you're right—there's only so much you can learn about someone's personal beliefs if they think they have to follow orders on pain of punishment.
"There was something else I wanted to run by you," he went on, ignoring the minute slump of Mari's shoulders. "I'm thinking of giving personal apologies as well. Akane pointed out that, ethics notwithstanding, Haru's actions worked out well for us"—Mari nodded—"and if other ninja realise that, there's a risk they'll copy Haru, either by making things even worse for the yakuza, or worse, by picking other groups of civilians to coerce."
Mari nodded again. "The better that works, the more ninja jump on the bandwagon, and then the vicious circle ends up wrecking ninja-civilian relations, and the Merchant Council panics, and then the Hokage steps in, and guess who he'll blame for starting the trend. I take your point."
"Right," Hazō said. "So if I schedule a bunch of important meetings, then fail to show up because I'm too busy apologising to the yakuza families, that gives the impression that I'm under pressure from the Hokage, and it's making me lose face and hurting my business. Nobody else is going to emulate me—well, Haru—if they think it'll put them on the Hokage's bad side
and force them to lose face in front of civilians."
"Oh, Akane," Mari said with a patronizing shake of the head. "She really does mean well."
"I hear a 'but' coming," Hazō said.
"First off," Mari said, "losing face is bad. I know, it's the cutting-edge insight you pay me a clan stipend for. Being blunt, though, that stunt with Haru's put a bunch of business associates on edge. Keeping civilians afraid—not too afraid, but just afraid enough—is a core part of what makes the economy work. A civilian cheating a ninja is signing their own death sentence. A civilian who's late on a delivery, or uses inferior materials, or whatever, is playing with fire. Ninja count on being able to make unreasonable demands every now and then and having them fulfilled to the letter, even if it hurts the business. A lot of ninja business decisions rely on those assumptions.
"Then along comes Gōketsu Hazō and sentences his own ninja to a fate worse than death for killing criminals who, the ignorant masses think, are straight-up bad for trade. What do you do with something like that? Is he going to let you down because his civilians don't fear him enough? Are
your civilians going to let you down because they think you doing business with him means you approve of his ideas?
Does supporting him mean supporting civilian rights? And so on and so forth."
"Mari," Hazō interrupted. "Civilian rights are a core part of Uplift. I'm not going to give up on them for the sake of making more money."
"I know," Mari said. "But you can't make Uplift happen as a pariah either. I'm not saying you have to do a 180 on your public relations. I'm saying that losing face is an act with consequences—which would stack directly on top of what you've already done.
"But that's just one angle. The other angle is that you're putting words in the Hokage's mouth, and that should set off alarm bells louder than a jōnin-level FUBAR Technique. I know, I know. You're being subtle and indirect, and that's lovely. But you're counting on the other clans getting the message anyway, and if they do, so will he. And if you're effectively faking orders from the Hokage, if you're publicly faking Tower policy…" Mari curved her hands into L-shapes and mimed a box.
"I love Akane. She's my beloved sister/daughter/cousin/whatever, and the world is a better place for having her in it. She is also
never going to be the Keiko to your Shikamaru."
That hurt. Hazō needed Akane. She didn't just bring light and warmth into his life. Her perspective was indispensable, and he knew for a fact that there were still terrible mistakes in his future that only she could prevent—not the pessimistic Kei, nor the obedient Noburi, nor the pragmatic Mari, nor the unstable Yuno, nor Kagome-sensei or the untrusting Haru or the hesitant newbies, but only the girl who shone like the sun and made no compromises. It hurt to ever be told that trusting her was a mistake.
"Talk to the Oyabun," Mari finally said in tones of compassion. "It's a compromise. Ask him to pass on your personal apology. The head of one organisation apologising to the head of another with which they might do business in the future softens the reputational blow a little. It also needs doing in and of, if you care about apologies to begin with. Imagine somebody killing one of our own, and somehow living long enough to apologise, and then not saying a word to
you."
Hazō nodded.
"Thanks, Mari. And thanks for taking care of the Haru issue. I know it's not what you'd want to be doing with field duty hanging over your head."
Mari gave a wry smile. "Always happy to do my bit for the clan."
"I
am sorry about that," Hazō said. "You know if there was any way I could get you out of it, I would, but you're a jōnin and it's all hands on deck. If only you weren't so talented and experienced."
"A tragedy," Mari agreed. "Then again, if I hadn't been so amazing, Shikigami might not have recruited me, and then where would we be?"
Probably dead, Hazō admitted. Nobody, himself included, had batted an eyelid when told that Mist had sent Kurosawa Hazō on a suicide mission. He was the blood traitor's son with a history of insubordination, and after a year immersed in politics, he'd come to understand that there were also Implications to having a would-have-been heir from the main line hanging around while his clan head aunt was childless and without consort.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked. "As Lord Gōketsu or as your friend et cetera Hazō?"
After a few seconds, Mari shook her head. "Nothing more than you're doing already. I've got cutting-edge equipment, I'm in top form, the Tower has a strong preference for my survival, and I have something to fight for that means more to me than abstract village loyalty. Much of that is frankly unprecedented.
"Seriously. War? I've been through far worse than having to fight a bunch of worm-eaters with a loyal team at my side. I've waltzed into heavily-fortified enemy compounds armed only with my silver tongue and a poisoned hairpin that wasn't meant for the enemy. I've evaded kill squads with Bloodline Limit trackers while carrying papers that would violently self-destruct if I couldn't get them to a sealmaster within the hour. I've extracted state secrets from evil viziers while chained up and in the middle of doing things you will never be depraved enough to hear about. You're more likely to get yourself killed doing sealing research back here than I am fighting out in the field."
That wasn't as reassuring as Mari probably meant it to sound.
"Just keep doing what you're doing, Hazō," Mari said more softly. "Give me my home and my family to fight for, and I'll be stronger than a dozen Jiraiyas."
-o-
XP awards to be determined by @eaglejarl in the next update.
-o-
Gaku has good news and bad news for you. The good news is that your orders were made "discreetly" this morning. Specifically, he took care to drop the papers near a group of genin, who had the opportunity to study them in the process of picking them up. The orders are one (1) Torture & Interrogation Deluxe Custom Set with Extra Manacles, with money saved by ordering them via Kei so as to make use of her frequent customer discount, and four (4) watertight containers large enough to hold multiple bodies (decorative fish tanks are not known in Leaf—people who want fish in their homes just dig a pond).
The bad news is that Fu Kōhei is missing and cannot be found after failing to report for an afternoon mission briefing. His equipment and various other possessions have disappeared from his quarters, and his sister Fu Mei has no idea as to his whereabouts.
-o-
Voting is closed unless
@eaglejarl reopens it.