Tanzaku Gai was more than just a city. Of all the sites of strategic importance in the Fire Country, it had received the best defences during the war short of Leaf itself, and Hazō thought he understood why. It wasn't the bountiful tax income. It wasn't the key role in governance over western Fire. It was, to put it simply, morale. Tanzaku Gai was where Leaf ninja went when off-duty (despite attempts at competition from the newer Otafuku Gai). It was where they went to be reminded, perhaps without ever realising it, what they were truly fighting for. The unseen desire that lay at the bottom of every ninja's heart, Hazō believed, wasn't mere survival. It wasn't hatred or revenge. It wasn't even the resolve to protect their loved ones, which Leaf tried to monopolise as the Will of Fire. It was a dream of paradise: a world without war. In Tanzaku Gai, for just a few hours at a time, there was no war. There was no conflict beyond the petty strife inextricable from human society. There was art, and music, and fashion, and fine cuisine, and every other joy that humanity was capable of crafting for itself when its hands weren't busy holding weapons.
Today, Hazō and Akane were beneficiaries of this tradition of fiercely-protected peace. The flowers at the Nishūrasen Gardens were in full bloom, their panoply of colours eclipsing even the famous fountains in Hazō's eyes—though, of course, still failing to eclipse Akane as she pointed them out to him one by one, unselfconsciously showing off both the knowledge she'd picked up from Ino and the additional research she'd conducted because when Akane committed herself to taking care of a living being, that living being got taken care of.
Speaking of Ino, she was the one responsible for the vibrant green (but not
that green) one-piece dress Akane was wearing, and the story behind that was a valuable reminder just how terrifying a social spec could be even without being animated by unholy powers of chaos or being broken until talent filled the space where her heart had been.
As soon as word came in that the Fourth Shinobi World War was over, details pending, the overworked, overstressed Yamanaka clan head had seized the opportunity not merely to relax and unwind, but to unleash a diabolical plot that must have been in the making for months at least. First, the easy part, she took advantage of Snowflake's curiosity and desire for self-definition to invite her to a grand clothes shopping trip. Then, she broke down Kei's resistance by pointing out that anything Snowflake wore would reflect on Kei, and thus also on the Nara, whether she liked it or not, and if she didn't serve as chaperone and veto holder, Ino had no interest in being responsible for the consequences. As a follow-up attack, she persuaded Kei to invite Fujisawa, promising her the family bonding opportunity that they'd missed out on with the unfortunate dinner. With that excuse, and with the momentum rolling, Akane found it too hard to say no, and was dragged out of the room where she'd been spending too much of her time and into the spring sunlight. Meanwhile, Tenten (according to Akane's speculations after the fact) couldn't let the new, more exciting, more outgoing, more communicative mute girlfriend outshine her even visually, and insisted on joining in despite her usual lack of interest. And then, Ino put the strawberry on the cake. Hinata had limited her interactions with her political opponents since assuming the Hyūga throne, but even she couldn't resist the triple temptation of observing complex multi-layered social dynamics (the Kittensphere members alone would provide a day's worth of utterly unique data, and also Hazō really needed to heed Noburi's warning and stop using that name before it was too late), influencing the personal lives of her peers and rivals while their guards were down, and getting to be part of a gaggle of teenage girls shopping for pretty things.
Hazō had no idea where to begin closing the gap with Hinata on a more than superficial level. Even Ami, despite apparent interest, had yet to attempt the challenge (as far as he knew). And now Ino had done it, just like that, without spending capital or discomforting her allies or attempting manipulation that might backfire if Hinata saw through it. If Ino, even more calculating than he'd realised, succeeded in turning the Leaf Chūnin Girls No-Holds-Barred Shopping Spree into a regular event, he couldn't imagine the potential uses she could make of such a tool. (He wasn't sure why the rank was specified, or what would happen if they got promoted at different rates, but he did note that it excluded Ami and Mari.)
Locked out of the process though he was by virtue of not being a chūnin girl, Hazō couldn't complain if it involved the girls in his life being both happier and easier on the eyes, and it was a fact that Akane looked magnificent in green.
The fourth compliment to that effect later, Hazō decided that it was time to try a conversation of a more serious nature, and led her inside one of the garden's infamous replica gazebos.
"Speaking of mood-enhancing aromatherapy," he smoothly segued from her last flower description, "how are you feeling? I've been finding you a little hard to read lately."
"How?" Akane echoed. "You mean the whole mass murderer thing?"
Hazō had taken time to prepare for this conversation, mostly pondering all the ways in which he could mess it up, and therefore he was careful to say absolutely nothing to this question.
Akane sat in silence for a few seconds, looking out at the flowers.
"A lot of the time, I haven't been feeling anything at all," she said quietly. "Not like the person I thought I was. No, just… not like a person.
"I told you once that I felt hollow. Just an imitation of whichever person I looked up to most at any given time. I thought that, with you there to support me, I could find some kind of truth, like maybe there was some kind of core Akane that I simply couldn't see because I was too busy living a borrowed way of life.
"I didn't make it in time."
Akane looked at him, but he didn't say anything. There was a 99% chance that whatever he said would be the wrong thing, and she seemed… fragile. Too fragile for Gōketsu Akane.
"
You wouldn't have compromised your ideals under pressure. If someone told you to kill thousands of civilians just because they belonged to the other side, you'd have fought back, or delayed until you could come up with some kind of brilliant solution, or even gone missing. But I'm just your shadow. I'm not real, and my Youth isn't real, and while you shine when you're in the dark, I disappear. I thought I'd faced up to that, but all I'd done was pretend, and it got thousands of people killed.
"Kei says that I should take the time to process my pain instead of looking for another mask to hide behind. Noburi says that I should be kind to myself, and that beating myself up will only make it harder to find the answers. Mari says that carrying out terrible orders is a trial every ninja has to face eventually, and finding my own way to cope will make me stronger as a person. Kagome doesn't say anything, but he gets this odd, distant look in his eyes, and then he goes off to make me soup.
"I love them all, but they can't offer me a way forward. Nobody can. How do you go anywhere when it turns out your moral compass doesn't have a lodestone?"
"It's funny," Hazō said when it became apparent that Akane didn't have anything else to say. "I thought it seemed like you'd lost your anchor, and your metaphor is you not having a compass."
Wait, no. Ship metaphors. Hazō did not want to use ship metaphors when talking about guilt for killing civilians. There was no way bringing back that memory wouldn't make things worse.
Fortunately, Akane didn't seem to notice.
"I thought Youth was my anchor," she said. "But as soon as the tide came, I got swept away, and found out I'd never had an anchor at all. It's like Kei said—I was always mass murderer Akane waiting to happen."
Kei said
what?! Hazō was going to—
No, he probably shouldn't. As someone who'd been frustrated at the clan's apparent inability to keep themselves together without his intervention, the last thing he should do was object when they actually made an effort to look out for each other. If Kei turned around and said, "Well, you handle it, then", he'd be back all the way to square minus one. He just hoped she wasn't making things worse.
Or was he qualified to judge that, given that he had no idea how to make things better himself?
Wasn't there anything he could do, any approach he could make that had a chance of helping Akane without risking disaster?
Maybe there was.
"You've been one of my biggest anchors for the longest time," Hazō said. "But you've never been my only one. That's not something you can ask of any one person, and maybe you can't ask it of one ideal either. You know how I feel about Uplift, but I want to believe that even if I woke up one day and found out Uplift was a lie, I'd still have other reasons to carry on—you being one of them. What about you, Akane? Do you have any other anchors?"
No, wait. That
really sounded like he was pressuring her to reciprocate and say he was one of hers. Damn.
Akane just looked out at the flower beds for a while, and he couldn't tell if she was thinking or staring into space.
"There are still people I love," she said, "and things I care about. Of course there are. But what's going to happen when the tide comes again? If my love of Youth was a lie all along, then how can I believe in my love for you, or Ino, or my parents, or
anyone, never mind something as abstract as Uplift? How can I know that they aren't more illusions that will vanish if the world pokes at them hard enough?"
Hazō had made a precommitment not to try to fix anything, and on the inside, he was grinding his teeth in frustration at the inflexibility of his past self. If past!Hazō had known what it would be like to hear Akane say these things, surely he'd have changed his mind and given his future self carte blanche to do something, anything, to make things better for her.
Unfortunately, Hazō believed in the power of precommitment. It was a mighty tool, powerful enough to defend even against Ami, but it demanded faithfulness. If he turned his back on it even once, it might lose too much power to save him next time past!Hazō's forethought was the only thing standing between him and lethal foot-in-mouth poisoning.
"Akane," he said, "I can't look into your heart and see how real any of your feelings are." He'd put it on the sealing research list, but he should probably finish the cure for wandering wits first. "But I can ask you this: what makes life worthwhile for you? You don't need to know whether your feelings are real to be able to answer that. You don't even have to limit yourself to what's realistic. Pretend for a second that there are no justifications and no consequences. What do you want to do?"
"What do I… want to do?"
"It's OK if you don't have any answers," Hazō added hastily, "or if it's something really vague. I'm not trying to put you on the spot here."
"I want to make a better Akane," Akane said slowly. "One who won't murder thousands of civilians when she's ordered. One who has the right beliefs
and stands by them. One who isn't anyone's shadow. I want… instead of an Akane who's always standing in the light, I want one who can step into the darkness without disappearing." She gave the strange, ironic smile of someone enjoying a private joke at her own expense.
"I don't know what anchors that Akane would have, or what would make her life worthwhile. I suppose she'd be a very different person from me."
Hazō forcefully suppressed the desire to argue. Instead, he smiled. "I have no idea how to make any of that happen. Honestly, from where I'm standing, the idea of
improving on you would be blasphemous if it wasn't incoherent, but I admit I may be slightly biased. But that doesn't change the fact that I love you and believe in you absolutely, and if there's anything I can do to help you, anything at all, then I will do that thing."
Hazō had a sense that if he let Akane think about it, she'd say something to the effect of "But it's only a hypothetical and I've already said it can't happen", so he hurried on. He'd suspected that this topic might leave Akane feeling melancholy, which was not acceptable on a date with Gōketsu Hazō, master of seduction, so he'd made sure to have a secret weapon close to hand.
"By the way," he said, "I wrote you something."
Akane's curiosity quickly overcame her desire to stare wistfully into the distance. Just as planned.
"What's that?"
Hazō pulled out a scroll. "I've secretly been studying the work of Namikaze Minato, some say the greatest poet of our age, in order to compose the finest love poem in Elemental Nations history. Listen and be amazed."
Akane straightened up into the rapt listening posture of an ideal Academy student, nearly brushing her shoulder against one of the gazebo's realistically-carved fangs.
Hazō cleared his throat.
"To my radiant star, whose embrace
Brings fierce blushes to my face,
Whose amber eyes' refulgent glow
Strikes harder than a Strong Fist blow,
The gentle strength of whose caress
Would shame an Arachnid Empress,
Yes, you, Akane, are the one,
As bright and round as the sun!"
By the time Hazō reached the fourth stanza, dedicated to the beauty of Akane's toenails, she was so moved that her face was buried in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking with what could only be suppressed sobs of joy. Hazō made a note to do something nice for Naruto, whose father had turned out to be every bit the romantic genius he'd hoped.
-o-
You have received 4 + 1 (Brevity) + 1 (Fun-to-write) = 6 XP.
-o-
Ami-style training was unsuccessful due to lack of challenge: the jōnin currently in Leaf were insufficiently paranoid (by the standards of Kagome-sensei's star pupil) and just told Hazō their favourite colour when he asked; for those out on missions, their families or known friends were happy to do so.
-o-
The other half of the plan is left in the merciless talons of
@eaglejarl.
Voting is closed.