Omake: Perspective
Imagine you are Goketsu Akane.
You died defending your students - three genin, young, curious, pushing themselves to do more and more - against a sudden assault. In the haze of combat, the attack barely registered, but your chakra sang and danced and you threw everything you had into defending them. You knew you would die, but you felt absolute peace. You felt the Will of Fire burn through you and everything made sense in that moment.
You died protecting what was precious to you and you hope that they escaped. You died protecting the village, you died protecting the innocent, and you died doing what was right. It was a good death. It was too soon, but it was a good death. Now, there is white sand under your feet and a comfortable numbness. You remember faces and you imagine friends. You perform kata after kata and twist your hands through strange shapes which feel right. You aren't hungry and you aren't tired.
You blink and startle. The air feels different. Your fingertips burn, again, a feeling you'd forgotten. There's a face in front of you - one you imagined, one you recognize. Hazo.
Hazo. He found you. Everything comes rushing back - how could you have forgotten?
Hazo, your friend, part of your heart. Hazo, your leader and confidante. Hazo, your lover. Hazo, gentle and kind, wise and caring. He's here. He came to get you. You knew he would.
You look outside - you're in the hospital. The trees are red and orange and gold and yellow. It's fall. It wasn't fall a few minutes ago. It was winter. Your gut twists. Time has
passed. At least half a year. Anxiety spikes through you. Your mother - her arm. Your father - his grief. Your family.
Hazo.
More memories.
Memories of a Hazo focused on his goals to the exclusion of all else. Memories of a Hazo who creates weapons of unimaginable power.
Memories of a Hazo who did not spare a thought for the civilians Haru murdered.
He begins to speak. Your heart soars. Hazo, your friend, the good, the champion of the downtrodden and the would-be architect of a new, better world. Your stomach twists. Hazo, the lost and confused, the uncaring, lost in his grief and rage. He said you were his heart and moral center.
What did he do when you were gone?
Imagine you are Hagoromo Azugimoto.
Everyone knows what Ruka did, now - your face puckers as you think her name. She bragged about it, privately. You never liked her. She was always too proud, too haughty, too careless. You're ashamed to be related to her. You were almost glad when she was injured - half her foot, gone. You would never tell anyone but you lit a stick of incense when she was permanently assigned to the Tower and thanked the missing nin who ended her career. She could joke about the expendability of clanless genin all she wanted but she'd never order them into danger to save her own hide again. You saw bile in her: you wanted to be a medic but never had the aptitude, but you knew that the hate in her needed to be drained. Instead, she became an abscess.
You'd thought she couldn't hurt anyone. You'd thought it was just paperwork and that her sloppiness would be caught: the Nara were meticulous and the Sarutobi would do nothing less than their duty and the Tower and the Will of Fire...
You take another drink.
You don't like the Goketsu. Jiraiya was just barely tolerable, but the rest? Snakes, vipers, poison. Insidious. It explained why that one, the sealsmith, spent so much time around Orochimaru.
You'd met Akane, though. Your son had gone through the Academy with her, a few years apart. You'd been at Mizuki's execution. It was good that he was dead. Akane had found time to spar with your son. Akane had given him advice that you'd both been sure was poison that would get him killed if he tried to break a hold like that but now you weren't sure.
Ritsuo would know but he was running from meeting to meeting. Ruka was on house arrest and she wasn't laughing any more. Your reservation at the Blue Petal had gotten lost. The apologetic Akimichi had said there must have been a problem with the paperwork. You'd left, stung, ashamed, and wondering if you deserved that humiliation.
You take another drink.
Goketsu Akane is dead. The sealmaster - Goketsu Hazo - had lost his...what. Concubine?
He'd given Leaf Skywalkers. Your son was alive because of Skywalkers. He'd marveled at them. He'd said it was like flying, he'd just stepped over the grasping stone hand that would have crushed him.
You'd thought about what you would do if he'd tried to break a hold like Goketsu had shown him and died. You would have burnt her, found some way to burn her.
Goketsu Hazo has the ear of the Hokage and a Summoning Scroll and he knew Orochimaru and they said he'd killed a Dragon and that Lord Nara had almost killed Ritsuo with one of its scales.
You take another drink.
Were you wrong about them?
Were you wrong about your clan?
Imagine you are Hagoromo Nari.
You'd checked in on Ruka. She'd been uncharacteristically subdued. You'd reassured her - Lord Ritsuo would take care of her. It had been a mistake. Chuunin died. Genin died. This would blow over.
Ritsuo wouldn't turn his back on the clan. The Hokage would see sense.
She hadn't said it out loud, but Ruka had looked worried she'd be abandoned. Executed. Executed? For what? The deaths of a jumped-up slut and genin greener than Rock Lee's idiotic jumpsuit?
It was unthinkable. Ritsuo was Hagoromo. If he didn't defend Ruka...it wasn't thinkable. He would. Of course he would.
Wouldn't he?
Imagine you are Lady Inuzaka.
A year ago,
bureaucratic incompetence killed dozens of your clansmen. Stupid misfiled reports and paper-pushers bumping into each other. The anger burns in you still. They never saw justice - not truly.
Lord Nara had refused to give you names.
You had a name, now. Who knew what else that woman had done? What else she had ignored? Lord Nara'd said he'd cleaned house, trained everyone who needed training, reassured you all that the Tower could be
trusted.
Obviously not.
How many more of her might there be?
You run your hands through the fur of your best friend. It should have been comforting. Instead, she growls, and you growl along with her.
The Hagoromo have betrayed the pack.
Will the Hokage?
Imagine you are Hagoromo Ritsuo.
Don't do that. I like you too much for that.
Imagine, instead, that you watching him from a distance, aware of his every thought. He is small-minded but not stupid. He is in a tight spot. He can wriggle out of personal responsibility - he's done that his whole life, dodging blame and accumulating praise and honour. It's as easy as breathing.
But now the Hokage wants accountability. Everyone wants accountability for something some idiot underneath him did.
If he throws the idiot to the wolves - he saw the look in Lady Inuzaka's eyes - his clan will revolt. She might even try to drag him down with her.
(He can't bring yourself to admit she might even succeed.)
If he protects her, he'll never see another adoption ticket and all that work chipping away at the Goketsu won't mean anything and the
liberals will come for him. He's already heard the whispers. The old ways don't work, this time it's gone too far, maybe -
Imagine you are Hagoromo Ritsuo. Get as close as you can without sustaining brain damage.
You are scared, deep down. You can feel your grip loosening - your fingers ache, your hand is tired, you are hanging onto everything at once and you have been hanging onto everything at once for so long, and everyone is trying to tear it away from you, tear honour and decency and tradition away from Leaf.
You are so, so tired.
Fear will not help, so you push it down. You remember your vows and your people and your strong arms and your ninjutsu and the fire that burns in you. Maybe? Maybe nothing. You push down the fear and doubt and ignore the stares. You have more meetings to attend, more ruffled feathers to soothe, more waters to test, more alliances to secure and more doubt to sow. You've weathered worse. Your faith cannot be shaken.
Can it?
Imagine you are Goketsu Hazo.