A respectable quorum of the Gōketsu Clan—Hazō, Noburi, Akane, Kei, and Snowflake—sat in a circle of sofas and luxury armchairs around a table laden with green tea and biscuits, while a well-stocked hearth crackled comfortably in the background. Say what you like about the Nara, they knew how to set up a private discussion space.
The hearth was just as well, since the conversation topic Hazō had brought was pretty sensitive, and it was unlikely they'd get through this without a single instance of Kei's bone-chilling allegedly-not-an-aura firing off at some point. He hoped that bringing the clan's most stable, diplomatic minds (it was worrying that the clan's actual diplomat was not on that list) would help smooth the course to a murder-free resolution to the Ami problem.
"Hazō, Akane, it is good to see you as usual," Kei began, and Snowflake nodded. "Noburi, it is very rare to see you here. Have you finally been drawn in by the siren lure of fresh Nara baked goods?"
Noburi shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yuno tends to get antsy when she thinks we're spending time alone together. Sorry."
"She does?" Kei asked. "Why?"
"Because everyone knows that the Pangolin Summoner, being Akio's Chosen, is irresistibly attractive to men," Akane explained in a matter-of-fact voice that only slightly trembled with amusement, "while Gōketsu Noburi, being Gōketsu Noburi, is irresistibly attractive to women. It's a disastrous combination even before you consider the fact that Yuno has Satsuko-sharp intuition and you two have a history."
"We do not have a history!" two people exclaimed in unison.
"Maybe you should make that clearer to her," Akane said wryly.
"Yuno
is just drawing on some bizarre aspect of Isanese religion, yes?" Kei asked with a touch of trepidation. "I am not
actually irresistibly attractive to men?"
"With our stellar social skills, I can see us missing any number of romantic advances," Snowflake agreed.
"I think I've seen a few men successfully resist you," Akane said, "but you should probably keep an eye out at the next KEI meeting."
"Enough of this horrifying subject," Kei said, bringing a teacup up in front of her as if in a warding gesture. "Surely this red-sign discussion topic that you have brought to us will provide innocent solace and relief to my frayed nerves."
Hazō, Akane, and Noburi exchanged glances.
"Yes," Hazō agreed, "only the opposite of that. You know how Ami just got back from Mist?"
Kei glanced alertly at Snowflake.
Snowflake spent a few seconds looking at Hazō, studying his expression.
"I will be fine," she muttered.
"Right," Hazō said. "So after the war council, she and I ended up talking…"
-o-
"…and then she just walked off into the Forest of Death as if it was nothing."
Kei and Snowflake sat in silence, absorbing. Occasionally, they exchanged silent looks for a couple of seconds.
Then, without warning, Kei exploded.
"What is
wrong with you people?" she demanded. "Is my agency a joke to you? A toy? A piece of wishful thinking by a child unqualified to manage her own affairs? First Mari conducts an independent risk assessment, decides that the risk of my death is sufficiently low, and plunges me into mortal danger without my knowledge or consent. Then Ami conducts an independent risk assessment, decides that the risk of my death is sufficiently high, and threatens my clan on my behalf without my knowledge or consent. I find myself longing for the halcyon days when you merely pretended my feelings were irrelevant to you dancing on the ashes of my most treasured relationship, while Shikamaru declared me his fiancée before a world nearly as shocked as myself."
"I don't think it's a fair comparison, Kei," Hazō objected. "Mari was sincerely trying to find the best possible outcome for everyone. You yourself acknowledged that much."
"You're talking like that justifies anything," Snowflake cut in. "The last time we talked, you yourself admitted—"
Kei sharply held up a hand. "Apologies, but if this is going where I expect, could I ask you two to step outside for a minute?"
"Sure," Akane said. "Can I take a biscuit with me?"
"OPSEC stuff?" Noburi asked.
Kei nodded to both.
Once the door was closed, Snowflake continued. "You told us that, despite understanding why the Hokage acted the way he did, you were furious with him, and felt that a bond of trust between you had been betrayed, yes?"
"That's right," Hazō said. "Some of us get killboxed at the very first hint that we're not loyal to the Hokage, but I'm just supposed to smile and nod when he acts disloyal to us?"
"And this does not strike you as at all hypocritical?" Snowflake asked. "Consider. Like Mari, the Hokage was faced with Orochimaru, a threat against which all his conventional tools were useless. Like Mari, instead of accepting a high risk of losing what was most important to him, which is to say the village, he chose to minimise overall risk by endangering someone who should not have been endangered to begin with. Like Mari, he offered us what assistance he could indirectly, and trusted that with our resources and allies we would be able to find a way out of the situation where nobody had to die. And behold, it all worked out for the best, as he expected. Yet neither the optimal nature of his choice nor the optimal nature of the outcome allay your anger at his abrogation of his moral responsibility to protect us."
"It's not a proper parallel at all," Hazō objected. "Mari risked her life for us, while Asuma wouldn't even talk to Naruto or Tsunade. That's all it would have taken."
"If I may interrupt," Kei said. "Hazō, surely you are not telling me that, in the aftermath, you did not conduct even the most basic research on Orochimaru? I buried myself in the Nara Library for days as a mediocre coping mechanism. I was humiliated to realise how fully I had missed the obvious. Orochimaru treats us as nails in need of a hammer because that is all we are to him. Behind the mannerisms of an arrogant thug lies the cunning of a man who was able to conceal his vile crimes for years, perhaps decades, from Sarutobi Hiruzen, the God of Shinobi, and from Jiraiya of the Three, the legendary spymaster, men of unparalleled insight with world-class intelligence networks who had known him intimately for his entire life. The Hokage would have been irresponsible, no, insane to gamble that the immature Naruto or the infamously direct Tsunade would be able to outmatch him in deception and conceal the Hokage's involvement."
"As to Mari," Snowflake added, "I find your fixation on the risk she took to be bemusing. Hazō, you do realise that, had she not risked herself to distract Orochimaru, he would have headed straight for Kei, and we would have been kidnapped and murdered with one hundred percent certainty? Her luring Orochimaru away was no act of heroism. It was a mandatory requirement for transforming our death sentence at her hands into a manageable risk. Should I weep with gratitude that she placed herself in danger to avoid a death she herself would have caused?"
Hazō could feel himself increasingly on the back foot in an argument he hadn't even intended to have. "You weren't in any actual danger. We proved that. We told Orochimaru about the Frozen Skein, and he backed off immediately."
…and there was that unnatural cold he'd been waiting for.
"By the ancestors, what an upset!" Kei exclaimed. "A man coerced into a commitment does not struggle to immediately pursue a prize which would violate that commitment. Can you promise me, Hazō, that had Orochimaru taken me that very night, or the next day, he would have believed my claims which sound exactly like something invented to save my life? Would I even have been able to speak coherently, faced with the terror of a scalpel-wielding Orochimaru after likely being
manhandled in the process of the kidnapping?
"Even if he believed me, can you promise me that he would not dissect me anyway, in the hope of identifying the mechanisms by which Snowflake was possible, and either bypassing the limitations of the Frozen Skein or extracting only the part that facilitates divergence? Having already decided that I was a valid kidnapping target, and with the promise of a grand prize within reach, what possible motivation could he have to release me instead of experimenting to his heart's content? Would he
benefit from having me run free, to testify about my experiences to the Hokage, and rally my allies in revenge? Would he
benefit from not investigating my Bloodline Limit, which he once considered worth kidnapping a foreign diplomat for?"
She took a few seconds to calm her breathing. "Enough. We have more immediate issues to consider. Snowflake, are you sure?"
Snowflake nodded, and rose to open the door.
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"Kei, Snowflake, you understand the situation now," Hazō said. "What are your thoughts? Kei, I realise that, as you've cut ties with Mari, you might prefer to remain uninvolved, but if so, I'd still like to hear Snowflake's perspective."
"Do not be ridiculous," Kei snapped. "Even if Mari has reaped what she sowed—which she has, for this scenario was predictable and should have been factored in alongside the risk for my life—do you honestly believe I wish her dead? Is that the impression you have of me, that I am someone who would condemn a stranger, not even an enemy, to death for the mere crime of destroying my trust in her? Hazō, my feelings are
feelings. They do not have the weight of a person's life.
"I will not deny," she continued, "that it would be a relief to me to know for certain that I will not suddenly have a second threat descend upon me one day because Mari has decided to sacrifice me without my knowledge or consent. However, I am an adult with the right to make my own threat assessments. If ever
I decide that Mari poses a mortal threat to me,
I will be the one to weigh the risks,
I will be the one to seek solutions, and if all else fails and I conclude that only one of us can survive,
I will be the one to sign off on her elimination. Until that day, I refuse to have murder done in my name.
"It should go without saying that I do not wish the clan endangered in my name either. Nobody else made Mari's choices for her; nobody else should suffer the consequences."
Hazō went smoothly through relief and into guilt. Honestly, Kei had a right to be a lot madder than she was at the suggestion that she'd stand by and watch Ami murder Mari just because of their personal differences. It was clear that Kei was still angry with Mari, no matter how much she claimed they were no longer connected at all, but Hazō himself had plenty of people he was angry with (half the world, honestly, when he thought about the sheer depths of cruelty and discrimination that people inflicted on each other), and he wouldn't think of unleashing a murderous Ami on most of them. Maybe Lord Hagoromo.
Granted, hearing that Kei, too, would have Mari killed if she were a threat was less than encouraging, but from a shinobi perspective it was hardly unnatural either. If Hazō believed that, say, Yuno was a mortal threat to him and could not be dissuaded, he couldn't see himself kneeling for the blow either.
"I can see the logic behind the contract," Snowflake said. "There is something
safe about knowing that Mari will not simply throw me away because my life is trivial next to her other clanmates. But if the risk is the destruction of the Gōketsu as a whole, it is a fact that I am not worth it. Neither is Kei."
Kei gave her a sideways look, but ultimately nodded.
"It is impossible for such a thing to be foolproof," Snowflake said.
"Ami could manage it," Kei objected.
"On the contrary," Snowflake disagreed. "Ami could fashion a
flawless contract. However, to claim that something is foolproof is to vastly underestimate the potential of human folly. A third-party guarantor, and one would be necessary, could sabotage the contract accidentally or even deliberately. An unrelated party could learn of it as a result of the Gōketsu's legendary mastery of OPSEC. Doubtless we could find other failure modes if we attempted to optimise. Then, once it is known, it becomes a critical weakness for the clan, and I am hardly fond of the fact that the
ways in which it becomes a critical weakness generally involve Mari being framed for our murder."
"So you're opposed to the contract," Hazō concluded. "To be honest, I am too. I know it was my idea, and in terms of the specific task of protecting Mari, it gets the job done—at the very least, it's bought us time to look for other options—but anything that involves existential risks to the Gōketsu is not a good solution."
"I don't like framing it as you girls not being worth it, though," Noburi said. "You're family. You're
part of the Gōketsu Clan. We're not going down a road where we weigh you versus everyone else and decide you're the ones to sacrifice. Never again."
"Thank you, Noburi," Kei said quietly.
After a pause (which Hazō filled with tea), Kei spoke again. "I did not realise you and Ami had become so close, Hazō. To be honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable. Please be aware of the responsibilities involved in such proximity."
"Close?" Hazō asked incredulously. "I mean, it's nice to hear, but which part of that had anything to do with 'close'?"
"Hazō," Kei said impatiently, "you presented Ami with news that demanded an obvious, immediate, and, as far as she was concerned, fully necessary and justified reaction. What was her response? She
coached you on how to persuade her to instead act according to your preferences, all the while dispensing valuable insights into her personality which you have in no way earned."
"I asked her for the favour," Hazō said. "It's not like it was her idea."
"You know," Kei replied, "it is never too late for remedial training in respecting other people's agency. Perhaps we should ask Scalpel to give you classes.
"Ami is not a doll. Were she to so desire, she could have refunded the favour at any point, minus value of insights already given, and then directed her efforts immediately to the vengeance you were attempting to prevent. Instead, she optimised your ideas, providing not only warnings as to which ones would be ineffective but also why, and finally presented you with a roadmap which was fully successful until you decided to forsake it in favour of your own unoptimised 'brilliance'. It boggles my mind that she would offer such a gift to anyone, much less you."
Huh. Hazō had never considered it that way. He'd assumed it was a combination of his own genius—he didn't care what anyone said, that plan had been genius—and Ami's profound weirdness, but in retrospect, was even Ami weird enough to work directly against herself like that without a compelling reason?
Actually, he would have to table that question, probably forever. He honestly had no idea.
"Speaking of agency," he said instead, "there's a precedent being set here, or at least I assume it's a precedent, that bothers me. Ami said she'd prioritise your safety over your agency and your desires. Is that something you're prepared to allow?"
"I hope," Kei said coolly, "that that was not a transparent attempt to set me against my sister. I realise this is a complicated issue, but that would be very,
very unwise of you."
"Sorry," Hazō said. "Phrasing. But my point is that if she's OK killing Mari, or destroying her or whatever, irrespective of what you want, what does that mean for other people who threaten you in the future, or who she thinks threaten you?"
"I think you are missing an obvious point there," Kei said. "Mari is not a random threat. She has demonstrated an explicit willingness to end my life for her own purposes. No other shinobi of Leaf has done so, not even Lord Hagoromo, who loathes me and for whom it would mitigate a grave danger to the moral future of Leaf that his clan is dedicated to protecting.
"Ami is not insane, Hazō. She is a rational agent who takes considered action based on her priorities. That you and I disagree with her in this one instance does not mean we should seek to demonise her with some inane slippery slope argument.
"With that said, as I mentioned earlier, I do not wish Mari killed or destroyed. Her life is not mine or Ami's to take. Her suffering is no concern of mine, but suffering being inflicted in my name without my consent
is."
Progress. This was progress, right?
"Then that just leaves one thing," Hazō said. "You know how I may have accidentally made Ami decide to take revenge for her own sake? I
think I managed to persuade her out of that by throwing myself at her mercy, but I'm not sure, and with Mari's welfare at stake, 'not sure' isn't good enough. Are you prepared to help us deal with that?"
Kei hesitated. Snowflake looked at her nervously.
"Mari and Ami are both mature adults who can settle their own differences," Kei finally said. "It would be inappropriate for me to interfere."
Snowflake reached for her. "Kei, no."
"I have agreed to challenge Ami over her denial of my agency," Kei said. "I refuse to deny her own in return. She has every right to be upset, just as I would have every right to be upset if someone were to mistreat her, irrespective of the fact that she is more than capable of defending herself and handling her own retaliation."
"You know this is a terrible idea," Hazō said urgently. "It doesn't matter what her motivation is, if a foreign ninja hurts Mari, the Hokage will
have to come down on her. Or Mari might hurt her back and endanger the alliance. Or Ami might go too far and do damage to the clan and to Leaf. Or… or… there is no way this can end well for anyone. If I could trust those two to settle this amicably, then sure, but Mari doesn't hold back against her enemies, and Ami is furious, and I don't want anyone's life in danger
or the social equivalent of two S-rankers going at it in the middle of a crowded city."
"I trust Ami," Kei said firmly. "If she wishes to harm Mari without any danger to herself, she will succeed. I also trust her to be able to draw the proper lines and control how much damage she deals. If her feelings for me are not involved, then she will exercise moderation, whatever that may involve in her judgement."
Akane opened her mouth, but Snowflake beat her to it.
"Do not do this, Kei. Please. You know you don't want to do this. Stop hurting yourself."
"You know it's not so simple, Kei," Akane added. "I won't argue with you about your feelings, and what Mari does and doesn't deserve, but there's no way for Ami to hurt Mari without hurting the rest of us. Even if it's just emotional, like what Hana did, a fraction of that pain gets passed on to everyone in the family. Only you can decide whether that's fair, and only you can know if it'll be worth it for Ami in the end."
"This is emotional blackmail," Kei said miserably. "Do not imagine I do not see what you are doing."
"Kei, I…" Snowflake sighed and closed her eyes.
Then she disappeared.
Kei sat silently, processing.
"Fine," she finally said. "Ami is coming for dinner tomorrow evening. I will speak with her. But I make no promises of success, and I have one condition."
"What's that?" Hazō asked.
"No first strikes from Mari," Kei said. "Mari can assume, in general, that if she harms Ami, she will make an implacable enemy of me. This is as much of an axiom as the reverse. However, if she deals the first blow, in any way, while Ami is occupied negotiating with you and me, then the next morning she will find me on her doorstep together with the Nara, the KEI, the Kei, Naruto, and everyone else loyal, friendly, or indebted to me or Ami. Please convey this to her."
"I'll… do that," Hazō said as visions of the Gōketsu compound being levelled by a hundred angry Narutos filled his head. "I think Ami should understand, though, that the Orochimaru issue was a one-off. It's not going to happen again. I don't see how it could. On the whole, having Mari alive and well is
good for your welfare, Kei—just because you've lost your connection doesn't mean she doesn't love you and want to protect you. Given how good Mari is at her job, any damage Ami deals to Mari, whether it's for your sake or hers, hurts your odds of survival."
"I will have to take your word for it," Kei said. "Would you like more biscuits before you go?"
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Continued tomorrow.
