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Interlude: The Strange Life of Gōketsu Haru
Interlude: The Strange Life of Gōketsu Haru

"Is there anything else, sir?" the foreman of the movers asked Haru politely. The crew had been waiting outside when Hazō showed up. The Clan Head prick had gotten everything started and then bounced, too important to do anything as unpleasant as packing.

Granted, the movers hadn't wanted Haru or his family to do any of the packing, either. The foreman had politely suggested that they focus on directing and let the workers take care of actually putting things in boxes and the boxes into storage seals. It was a strange world.

Haru looked over at his father.

"No, thank you," Dad said to the mover. "That was the last of it. So...now we just walk over to the compound?"

The foreman nodded. "Yes sir. They've been getting your quarters set up, so I imagine it will be ready by the time we get there. Nothing special—just airing the place out, running a broom over it in case any dust got in, setting up the braziers and the Purifier seals, that kind of thing."

Dad tilted his head in surprise. "Purifier seals?"

"Yes sir. It's got some long name that I can't remember, but we just call them Purifier seals. You point them at a brazier and it sucks up all the smoke and makes it vanish. Really handy."

"They're...giving us seals to handle the smoke from the fireplace? Instead of just a chimney?"

"The chimneys haven't been installed yet, sir. Apparently it's hard to include them in the jutsu that they used to make the family residence. I think M'Lord intends to install proper chimneys once spring rolls around, but doing it in the winter was going to leave the quarters too cold for too long."

"I...see."

"The factor has already settled your rent and will deal with any wrap-up with the landlord, sir. Shall we?"

"After you."

o-o-o-o​

"This is the dining hall," their guide (Hiroe?) said, gesturing unnecessarily at the massive room they had just walked into. A mismatched collection of furniture—some long rectangular tables with benches, plus some smaller round tables with chairs, plus some low tables with cushions for those who preferred to eat seiza—made the place feel oddly homey. Each table had one or more baskets containing chopsticks and each place at each table was set with a linen napkin and a cup. The cups and chopsticks were again mismatched, presumably the product of someone going through every shop in town and cleaning them out of their current stock. At least a hundred people, most of them civilians, were eating and talking in various clusters around the room.

"So...where does the food come from?" Haru asked, looking around. There was a notable lack of tubs or pots.

"Right over here, My Lord," their escort said. She was an attractive blonde, a few years older than Haru, wearing a blue-and-green silk kimono with a large Gōketsu mon on the back and a smaller version over the heart. She smiled and gestured to a set of long tables against one wall. A grey-haired old man with a Leaf headband and a small tremor through his whole body sat in a chair at the end farthest from the door. There was no food or place settings on the table.

Haru and his family followed her over to the tables, which turned out to be completely covered in storage seals, each labeled with the name of a dish. As they approached, a civilian twenty-something who had been sitting and chatting quietly with a trio of friends stood up and approached.

"Good afternoon," he said, smiling. "Welcome to the Gōketsu dining hall. I'm Futoshi, one of the docents. If you need any help reading the papers, just let me know."

Eri, the useless illiterate, picked up one of the papers and stared in confusion. Behind her, Hiroyo and Airi crowded close to see. The two girls had been meek as mice ever since they arrived on the Gōketsu estate, but natural curiosity was starting to assert itself.

The 'docent', whatever that was, peeked over Eri's shoulder. "Chicken stew with peas and rice, ma'am," he said helpfully. "Also bread, a green salad, ginger ice cream, and hot apple cider. I've had the stew; it's tasty, but that particular seal is from the Blue Sky batch. A little overseasoned as I recall." He moved a few steps down the table and picked up another seal. "If you want the stew, may I recommend this one? Summer Day is a little lighter on the curry and leans more on the rosemary. Much better in my opinion."

Haru looked down the fifty-foot line of tables. Every square inch was covered with seals.

"You use storage seals for food in your cafeteria?"

"Yes sir," Futoshi said.

"'My Lord'," probably-Hiroe corrected. "This is Lord Gōketsu Haru and his family."

Futoshi's smile slipped and he swallowed nervously and touched his forehead in apologetic salute. "Sorry, My Lord. No offense intended, if you please."

"It's fine," Haru said faintly. "The seals?"

"Oh! Right. Yes, all the food is kept in seals until it's ready to be eaten. It keeps the vegetables fresh, the hot things stay hot, the cold things stay cold. Please select whatever you'd like. Gakuto there"—he gestured to the palsied ninja against the far wall, sitting and rocking while staring vaguely around—"will operate the seals for civilian diners. The dining hall is open 24/7 and there's always a ninja on duty, as well as three of us docents to read for anyone who needs it. The food is all in closed-top bento boxes to shield against storage stress; when you're done if you could please bring them back to be sealed up again, then put them in that bin against the wall. There's a reasonable variety—the kitchen staff makes new stuff all the time, so we build up an assortment of things. They take requests during daylight hours, so if you want something specific that you can't find on the tables you can ask a docent and we'll go have the kitchen make it special." He shrugged. "It obviously takes longer, but it's no trouble."

Haru looked helplessly at his father; the other man offered a bemused shrug.

"Thank you," Haru said. He looked down at the papers and grabbed the first thing that seemed interesting: braised river bass with rice and a honey glaze, salad, rice pudding, and hot apple cider. The docent led the rest of the family down the table, reading off the labels on each paper and suggesting options based on surprisingly detailed knowledge of the contents.

Hiroe waited until everyone was food-equipped and then gestured to an unoccupied table. "Shall we sit?" she asked brightly.

o-o-o-o​

Eating attractively-portioned food out of a storage seal in a massive dining hall was only the first of the surprises. Once they were done, Hiroe led them on a tour of the grounds.

"This is the children's school," she said, gesturing to a modest granite building. "Everyone from six to twelve is expected to attend six days out of seven." She turned her nigh-constant smile on Airi and Hiroyo. "That would be you guys! You'll have a great time, I promise. There's lots of other kids to make friends with and you'll be learning reading and numbers and exercising and stuff."

Haru frowned. "They aren't ninja."

"Oh, it's not like the Academy, My Lord. Well, maybe a little. I think Lord Gōketsu based it on his own schooling but the physical side is scaled down. Stretching and slow tai chi instead of actual taijutsu, monkey bars and plum blossom piles without the spikes, that kind of thing. That's only an hour a day, though. The majority of the time is reading, numbers, history, 'critical thinking skills', that kind of thing."

"'Critical thinking skills'?" Emi asked. "What's that?"

Hiroe gave an embarrassed shrug. "I'm still learning it myself, ma'am. It seems to be about how to make good decisions." She turned and pointed at a much larger building a short way off. "That's the university, the school for grownups. There's three tracks for morning, afternoon, and evening; you can attend whichever one your schedule allows and each track has a beginner, intermediate, and advanced session. There's also two professors on the estate who are teaching special-study seminars." She furrowed her brow in thought. "I think one of them was poetry and one was engineering?"

"How much does it cost?" Haru asked.

"Oh, it's free, My Lord. In fact, it's mandatory for grownups until they can pass a basic literacy and numbers test. You need to attend at least one per day until you can test out but you're welcome to stay for more whenever your duties allow. They take roll and keep track of who has passed their test and who hasn't. If you skip too many classes you'll be called in for disciplinary action."

Dad stiffened. "Disciplinary action? Like...flogging?"

"Oh, no sir! No, things like unpleasant chores or enforced calisthenics. Oh, speaking of which, we should get you all over to the hospital for delousing and a checkup. It's standard for all new arrivals. Right this way!"

o-o-o-o​

Like every ninja, Haru was all too familiar with medic-nin and their hurried, grumpy attitudes. It was no big deal to sit where the chūnin growled at him to sit, be still while the man ran a glowing-green hand over Haru, and then to 'get off my table' when barked at. It was a bit harder for Airi, who cowered back from the ninja doctor's headband.

"Look, girl, I don't have all day!" the man snapped. "I've got an entire waiting room full of mudsacks with boo-boos and sniffles that I'm expected to get through today. Get on the damn table!"

Haru interposed himself between the doctor and his now-crying stepsister. "Excuse me, sir. I've got this." He turned to Airi (taking care to keep the doctor in his peripheral vision because ninja) and squatted down to be at her eye-level. "It's okay, Little Pearl. He's not going to hurt you, he's just going to make sure you're feeling okay."

Airi forced herself into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. "I don't want to!"

"Shh, it's okay," he promised, patting her back. "I promise, it'll be fine. He's not even going to touch you, okay? He's just going to make his hands glow and put them near you to check you over. It's a cool ninja trick, like when I walk on the ceiling."

"Hurry it up," the doctor growled. "I've got a lunch date and I need to get through your brat and six more before I'm allowed to leave."

Airi cried harder, but she didn't resist when Haru picked her up and set her on the doctor's padded table. He rubbed her back until the sobs turned to sniffles, then kept a hand on her shoulder while the doctor scanned her. The whole procedure was over in less than a minute.

"Her humors are unbalanced and it's giving her a fever," the doctor said. "I drove off most of the spirits but she'll need to come back tomorrow and the next day to be sure they haven't spawned."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now get the fuck out."

o-o-o-o​

"And here is the treasury," Hiroe said, leading them inside another of the granite buildings. "It's also the estate store, where you can buy most things you'll need. You're obviously welcome to go into the city, but the clan can get better prices on most things. We have professional hagglers on staff, so you can ask them to go with you for shopping trips in the city if you like." She grinned. "Granny Mayuka is amazing! We haven't had a lot of new arrivals lately, so last week I was assigned to the supply staff; I was doing a run into Leaf to get ingredients for the kitchens and she went with me. The merchants were terrified."

"'New arrivals'?" Dad asked.

"Oh, right, I didn't explain. Gosh, I'm such a ditz. I swear, if my head weren't nailed to my shoulders I'd leave it somewhere. Right, I'm primarily on New Arrivals duty. When people move onto the estate I help them get set up. Make sure they know where everything is and what's expected, find out their job skills so we can assign them properly, that kind of thing."

"You get a lot of new arrivals?"

Hiroe shrugged. "Not so much anymore, but a few. Lord Gōketsu wants to grow the clan; he's had us hitting up the orphanages and convincing tradesmen to join up. Work houses, too. Anyone with actual skills, we buy their debt and move them here."

"I...see."

"Anyway, as a member of Lord Haru's immediate family you'll be given a stipend of three thousand ryō, plus an extra fifteen hundred for your three dependents. You'll still be paid for your work, of course. The stipend is purely supplementary."

"You're...you're going to give me almost five thousand ryō just for moving here?!"

"Oh, no sir! No, that's just the weekly stipend. The moving bonus is fifty thousand for each civilian member of a ninja's family."

"...I think I need to sit down."





Voting is still closed.
 
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Chapter 324: Shadow Clones

"You sent for me, sir?"

"Yes, Hazō. Would you care for some tea?" The young Hokage gestured to a waist-high table standing on the grass beside him, atop it a steaming teapot and two cups. The chill of the air had not yet had time to steal the heat from the tea, since Asuma had unsealed the whole thing as Hazō was walking up.

The world was a very strange place when the Hokage summoned you to the middle of a Training Ground instead of to his office. With no notice. A training ground that was currently ringed with ANBU agents, if the ones that Hazō had spotted on the way in were anything to go by. Summoned you there, and then offered you tea.

"Thank you, sir."

Tea surrounded itself with a complex etiquette in every social group; the etiquette varied from group to group, but it was always intricate and full of secondary meaning. Among ninja, being granted the opportunity to drink tea with someone was a gesture of (at least minimal) trust: I am willing to have my hands occupied in your presence. Of course, that could be reversed if the person physically handed you a cup of tea; that was a power move: I am your superior and can compel you into danger. Offering the choice of tea where one cup was closer to the recipient than the other was a question: Take the one closest to the offerer (I trust you enough to have my hands occupied around you, but will still take the one less likely to be poisoned) or the one closest to the recipient, which came with its own gradations of meaning depending on body language and the amount of time that passed between offer and acceptance—anything from I reluctantly submit to your will all the way up to I trust you implicitly.

Offering Hazō two equidistant cups was a courtesy that the Hokage did not need to provide. Especially since, as he made the offer, Asuma had casually shifted a pace away from the table such that neither cup was meaningfully closer nor farther from himself.

Hazō took the one on the left, and sipped politely before nodding his gratitude. Asuma took the other cup and mirrored the action.

"I gather you saw Keiko's first use of the Shadow Clone technique."

"Yes sir." First rule of uncertain political environments: Keep your mouth shut.

"Given that you were Jiraiya's son and are Keiko's brother, I'm assuming you're aware of how the Shadow Clone works, yes?"

Hazō nodded carefully, feeling his neck muscles tighten involuntarily. Where was this going?

"Tell me, please."

"It creates a solid duplicate of yourself," Hazō said carefully. "The clone is a chakra construct and very fragile; it will burst if it takes a solid blow. Despite this fragility, it's a complete duplicate of the caster. Unlike an Earth- or Water Clone, a Shadow Clone is fully self-aware and has all the knowledge and skills of the original, as well as being able to go quite a long ways from its progenitor. When the clone pops, the progenitor absorbs the clone's memories. That makes it useful for training and is probably a big part of why Naruto is so skilled for his age. Also, details of Shadow Clone are a high-level state secret and not to be discussed or taught to others without Tower approval." He paused, thinking. "Oh, and the jutsu has a ridiculously high chakra cost and will kill you if you try to cast it but don't have enough chakra available. And even if you do, your remaining chakra after paying the cost gets distributed evenly among your self and all your clones, so you won't have enough to fight afterwards."

Asuma nodded. "Good. You missed the part about how re-integrating the clone's memories can be traumatic, but the rest is accurate. Now, listen carefully. I am going to offer you something very dangerous. Do not answer immediately; take a moment to think carefully before you respond. Clear?" He waited for Hazō's nod before continuing.

"You have a solid record for creative innovation. Using Multiple Earth Wall as an offensive combat jutsu. Providing the original concept that allowed Kagome to produce the skywalker seal. Baiting out Zabuza in order to give Jiraiya an opportunity to act. The idea of creating a market for adoption slots.

"Based on your past history, I think it would be very useful for you to have Shadow Clones who can take care of mundane details so that you have time to focus on more of these large-scale ideas. I spoke to Noburi and asked him to gauge your chakra levels for me, in comparison to Keiko's. He was reluctant to divulge the information but did so when reassured that it was for your safety. Based on his responses, I'm reasonably confident that you have enough chakra to use the Shadow Clone jutsu as long as you only create one clone. The question then becomes whether or not you have the strength of will to survive clone sickness. My suspicion is that if you create one clone and immediately dispel it you will have a splitting headache but no actual damage.

"Given all of that, I'm willing to teach you the Shadow Clone jutsu. Right here, right now. But! Only if you think you're ready." He paused, studying Hazō carefully. "Honestly, it would make more sense for you to go home, spend another few weeks training your chakra reserves and doing some mental exercises that will help you maintain mental integrity. As with most things in the world, this choice is a balance between security and opportunity. I'm confident enough that you'll survive the process that I'm willing to give you the opportunity so long as you promise to follow some strict safety procedures."

"What sort of safety procedures?"

"You'll create your first clone here, under my supervision. You will create the clone while lying down with your eyes closed. Assuming you survive, you will use the jutsu only once per day until you are able to manage the process without pain. You will not create two clones at a time until you can create one and still retain enough chakra for a sparring match. You will ramp up the duration of your clones slowly, adding no more than a minute at a time until you can keep two clones up for fifteen minutes each without experiencing pain from clone sickness. After that point you may proceed at your own pace." He gestured towards the north edge of the training ground. "Finally, I have a medic-nin waiting in the trees if he's needed, and you will ensure that you have one with you when you do your practice sessions."

He checked to make sure that Hazō had absorbed the instructions, then nodded. "It's up to you how to weigh the opportunity against the risk. Would you like to learn it now, or would you rather come back in a month or two?" He held up a hand in peremptory silencing. "Stop and think before you answer. Consider your physical and mental state. If you're feeling ill, if you're too stressed to focus, leave it for another time."

Hazō stopped and thought. In truth, it wasn't much of a debate; he had done the calculations already, multiple times, and it was clear that the Shadow Clone jutsu was the second most important jutsu he could possibly learn, trailing only behind some sort of true resurrection that would allow him to bring back his father, and Jiraiya, and the Third, and everyone else who should never have died. The sheer utility of the Shadow Clone—the ability to instantly communicate over vast distances, the enhanced ability to study and train, the combat potential—was something he'd been salivating over for months. The only potential issue was the contact with the Out that had resulted from his experience with the Pangolin Summoning Scroll. He'd had momentary brushes with that altered mental state since then, but they had been growing less and less frequent. And, in truth, the resulting changes in his affect had been more helpful than not.

"I'd rather learn it now, sir."

Asuma chuckled. "To be honest, had you said anything else I would have assumed I was trapped in a genjutsu. Very well. Now, there's only one hand seal, a unique one used for no other jutsu of which I'm aware. Observe." He made a cross from the first two fingers of each hand, right in front of left to signify War before Peace. "The spiritual element is significantly more complex. First..." He went into a long and highly technical explanation of the various mental states and chakra manipulations required, as well as covering tips and tricks for surviving the clone sickness that would result from attempting to integrate another clone's worldline into his own. Hazō followed carefully, asking clarifying questions where needed. There weren't many questions to ask; Asuma was a skilled teacher with a gift for conveying information in clear and efficient ways.

"All right, I think you're ready. Lie down, close your eyes, and breathe. Once you are feeling calm and relaxed, I want you to focus on your inmost self. Draw up the most important experiences in your life, the image of who you are in your deepest soul, and of who you want to be. Hold that vision firmly in your mind and then create one and only one clone. Have it appear immediately beside you, also lying down with its eyes closed, and then immediately dispel itself. Take your time."

Hazō followed instructions, working his way through the requisite mental and spiritual transformations. They were tricky, and it required several attempts, but at last he felt his chakra click into place. He placed his hands in the strange position required for the jutsu and spoke the words:

"Shadow Clone Jutsu."

Hazō, Resolve: 20 - 6 (Severe Consequence, 'The Thinness of Reality') + 3 (invoke 'Hardened Mind', the Aspect that comes with the jutsu) + 3 (invoke 'Team Uplift', representing the supportive bonds he feels with his adoptive family and the experiences that have led him to where he is now) + 4dF(0): 20

Clone Sickness: 20 (base) + 1 (one clone for <= 1 hour): 21

Hazō takes 1 Mental stress.


There was a faint sound from beside him and then a sledgehammer hit him in the forehead as the fleeting memories of his clone reintegrated. It had existed for mere seconds and had had no visual input of any kind, yet it was still an entire person with all the history and hopes and dreams that Hazō had. It had known, from the moment of its birth, that it would flicker out of existence in seconds. It had known that its entire reason for existence was merely to validate that its progenitor had mastered a particular chakra manipulation.

Worse still, it had known that it had to choose to die. It wouldn't expire in combat, killed by a superior fighter. It wouldn't die of old age, or because its chakra had run out. Hazō Prime would not perform the chakra manipulation necessary to destroy the clone. No, it needed to make a conscious choice to end itself in order to guard the safety of its Prime.

Even more horrible was the fact that it wasn't actually a choice. A Shadow Clone was not actually a person, despite feeling like one. It was a chakra construct, bound to the will of its creator. It could argue and debate but at the end of the day it was still bound to follow orders the same as any other chakra construct. It was an open question whether humans had free will, but there was no such question among Shadow Clones. When push came to shove, they would obey orders, even suicidal ones. It had the freedom to interpret orders, to choose its implementation method, and to be generally recalcitrant, but the clone would obey as surely as water would flow downhill.

The very worst part was that it was okay with that.

There were reasons to be okay with it, of course. The Shadow Clone would not actually die in the way that a mortal did; its experiences and individuality would merge back into Prime with no loss. The tragedy of human death was the loss of all the potential and experiences that had so painstakingly been gathered over a lifetime, but Shadow Clones did not suffer that tragedy. Nothing of a Shadow Clone would be lost, it would simply cease forming new experiences. Furthermore, protecting Prime was an objectively good idea: The clone would cease to exist when Prime died, and in that case the clone's memories and experiences truly would be lost. It made perfect sense to give your life protecting the one who would keep you in his mind for years and decades to come.

Still...there was that niggling question. Was the clone okay with sacrificing its 'life' for Prime because it made sense, or because the jutsu demanded it?

"Ow," Hazō whimpered.

"Are you all right?"

Hazō spent a meaningful amount of time considering that question in depth as he waited for the splitting headache to die down.

"It's not a perfect transfer, is it?" he whispered, the words making his head pound harder.

Asuma's voice, when it came, was sad. "No. A human mind cannot contain two complete worldlines without damage. There is a certain amount of loss in what is transferred back. The parts that the Prime and the clone individually regard as most important are always transferred, as are the most recent memories. Still, if a clone exists for any meaningful length of time, certain bits will be lost or degraded. If you look at the same tree you will each see slightly different things; typically after merging you will not remember both views in full detail." He paused, and his voice acquired a potentially-not-forced cheer. "On the other hand, we lose mental experiences all the time. I doubt you remember the precise texture of the bread that you had for dinner last night, or how many peas were on your dinner plate last week. It's no different than what gets lost in a merger with your Shadow Clone; important experiences are retained, unimportant elements are dropped."

There were definite downsides to this jutsu.





I had intended to do the last details of the prior plan, but I don't have the energy. You did your thinking about stuff that flies and you sent Noburi and Yuno off to annihilate chakra beasts in the area, both as a bonding exercise and because it's a useful experiment into the nature of Noburi chakra drain abilities.

XP will be dealt with by @Velorien in his next update.

Vote time! What to do now?

Voting ends on Wednesday, February 12, 2020, at 12pm London time.
 
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Chapter 325: Blah Blah Meetings Blah

Hazō climbed into bed with a sigh. It had been a long week, and it wasn't over yet. Still, that long week had been productive.

Skyslider research group? Working well together. They had built a prototype (which fell apart when lifted off the ground), and another prototype (plummeted when tested), and another prototype (flipped over, then plummeted), and were halfway through building the Mark IV. Kunihiko had taken the tentative encouragement of his Clan Head and run with it; he was generating reams of (thus far useless) data about every possible aspect of everything that flew, building little model birds on sticks and sliding them around, and generally trying to smash the problem of flight open through application of sheer teenage energy. The rest of the team had willingly followed Hazō's suggestion and moved from flapping-wing propelled designs to fixed-wing gliding designs, theorizing that a ninja could use skywalkers to gain the necessary initial altitude.

Research group to build an aqueduct into Leaf? Established. The Collapse had dried up several of the city's wells, leaving large sections of the population having to walk farther and wait in line longer to get water. The Senju River was only a mile or two away from Leaf (except every year or two when it decided to flood its banks, in which case it was closer), so it seemed perfectly sensible to bring the water into the city. Set up a Tanaka Screw to lift the water up high enough, build a stone trough to carry it into the city, done. Well, done as soon as a five-person team finished planning the site for the Screw, the design of the aqueduct itself, the route it would take from the river to the city walls, how it would cross the wall without compromising the city's defenses, what path it would take through the city, what approvals would be necessary from the Tower, etc etc etc.

Also established: Research group to design a latrine with flowing water so that the night soil didn't need to be carried out of the house each day. Hazō's first thought had been a latrine over water flowing through an open-topped half pipe. Mari had pointed out that it would still stink, so he had proposed instead having a U-bend in a water-filled pipe, thereby keeping the disease-causing stink away but allowing the night soil to be carried off by water, not by human hands. The civilians he had tasked to figure it out clearly thought he was crazy, but he was the Clan Head so they were working on it.

Still, those were research projects and they all seemed (to people who lacked Hazō's visionary genius mwahaha) to be either eccentric or pointless. He had been glad that the Summoning Scroll Initiative was thus far meeting with success, as it gave him some much-needed credibility with the family.

Since getting the locations and histories of the five potentially-available Summoning Scrolls, Hazō had had people scouring the city for anything that might help narrow it down. Maps of the regions the Scrolls were speculated to be in. Contacts from and customs of those areas. Most of them didn't have as much information available as he would have preferred.

River was an ally of Leaf so there was no issue there. Names of friendly merchants were available, as were ninja who were positively disposed towards relations with Leaf, and even very sketchy details on factional politics. (Assuming you were willing to dignify 'a few names and scribbled notes' with the grandiose standing of 'very sketchy', but better than nothing.) Of course, there was nothing on the Kangaroo Summoner or his Scroll, so all that River data wasn't terribly useful.

The Squirrel Scroll was a lost cause; the sum total of what Hazō had been able to find was "Neck is about here on this not-to-scale and poorly-detailed map."

The Porcupine Scroll wasn't the one that Hazō wanted, but it was looking like maybe his best shot. The Todoroki Shrine on O'uzo Island wasn't far away and was publicly accessible. Even better, there was reasonable information available; the name of the Chief Abbot was public knowledge, and Jiraiya's notes included recognition codes for two agents embedded in the place: A chambermaid and a mid-ranked monk. (The monk had been a junior acolyte when Jiraiya first recruited him; it really drove home the sheer scale of the notes that Kagome-sensei was working so hard to decode when you realized that there was information there from before Hazō's mother was born.)

The Kraken Scroll was also a good option. Jiraiya's notes included contact information for several mid-level Yakuza throughout the Land of Lightning, as well as an assortment of farmers, charcoalers, tanners, and other ruralites who would give shelter, a meal, and a bit of gossip to the occasional passing traveler. Not agents per se, but they provided an easy way to get from point A to point B discreetly and gather some minimal intel on the way. There was also a map and the Gōketsu were satisfied that they'd identified the village wherein the previous Kraken Summoner had lived.

The real prize, of course, was the Otter Scroll. That one was going to be problematic, as Hazō had learned after talking with the one retired ANBU agent who knew anything about the area:

"Fang and Mountain? Sure, I've been there. Been all over this whole fuckin' world. Shithole places, both of 'em. People in those countries will fuckin' kill you as quick as look at you, twice as fast if you've got water and they don't—not that there's too many people in the area, because most people aren't that fuckin' stupid. Fang is flat, most of Mountain is hilly but not too bad; you can generally get a wagon through either one if you're trying to travel undercover. 'Course, everything looks the fuckin' same out there. If you aren't careful 'bout staying a straight course you'll end up wandering in circles until you fuckin' dry out and fuckin' die. Nasty shit lives around there, too. Scuttly things the size of a fuckin' dog, still give me nightmares. Coyotes. Rockworms. Have to be fuckin' insane to want to go there. What? You're thinking about goin' there? Huh. Well, good fuckin' luck. You'll need it."

Not the most promising response, but it was something.

All in all, it had been a good week. Gaku was turning out to be an incredible asset; he'd kept Hazō's TODO list organized, arranged all his meetings, offered reminders and briefing for each meeting, and found himself an assistant when it became clear he would need one. (Hazō made a note to tell Gaku to get a second or third assistant, as he was still obviously running himself ragged.) With his secretary's help, Hazō had successfully navigated all the duties of a Clan Head for the past week...with one glaring exception.

In all the madness of Orochimaru's return, the Collapse, and setting up the new Gōketsu estate, Hazō had lost track of his earliest experiment at improving life within Leaf: Paying Ebisu a small fortune to train a half dozen clanless ninja. He'd completely forgotten about it.

The experiment was apparently over, because this afternoon three of the clanless trainees in question had showed up at the estate and dropped off a message saying that Ebisu wanted to talk to Hazō tomorrow at noon. They had run off without waiting for a reply.

Granted 'run' off was a stretch, since they had been moving almost entirely via Substitution or other jutsu. Also, three other ninja had been attacking them in a running mock-battle the intensity of which only barely allowed for the 'mock-' qualifier.

Hazō sighed. He turned off the Jiraiya's Awesome Daybright Lantern seal glued to his headboard and pulled the blanket up over his head. It was late, he was tired, and he just wanted his brain to shut up about Ebisu and the implications of the clanless trainees and their battle. It was time to sleep.





NB: The 'Tanaka Screw' is obviously the Elemental Nations name for the Archimedes' Screw.

XP AWARD: 18

Brevity XP: 1

Ami-style training XP: 0
The top option was "Teach Lee basic social skills". You tried, it had no effect.

This update took 7 days. Yes, it earned well below average XP. Quick review of what I see in the plan so that y'all have necessary context:
  • The first two sections are the supermajority of the wordcount and are entirely passive:
    • The Summoning Scrolls section is 'have someone else talk to some unnamed NPCs while Hazō stays in the library'.
    • The Engineering section is 'create some teams and tell them to do a thing'
  • The Noda section was interesting, although I didn't see that at first. In my original summary I had her simply say "Fuck off", because my first response was "Why would she want to talk to them? She thinks they evicted her." Then I waffled a bit, since there was time for her to get over it and you had a good approach. Finally I realized that the fact I was waffling meant there was good material here. After thinking a bit I flipped a coin for what her final reaction would be. It ended up sticking with "Fuck off" so that makes things easy. Still, it could have gone the other way; well done on that. (NB: In future, probably a good idea to add a phrase like "Give her time to cool down"; I'm used to writing 1-day plans and running after her immediately upon the close of the prior update would not have gone well, as she was still mad.)
  • Ami-style training is a thing that you pretty much need to include due to the incentive structures we've set up, so no criticism there. It's basically never actually interesting to write unless I happen to be in the mood for comedy relief, but oh well.
  • The conversation with Ebisu is a good reminder for a plot thread that I found interesting but had forgotten about; thanks for bringing it up again.


Vote time! What to do now?

Voting ends on Saturday, February 15, 2020, at 9am New York time.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 326: The Way of Gōketsu

"Good morning, Ebisu. Please, sit. Would you like some refreshments?" Hazō gestured the older man into a chair and offered a tray of tea and finger foods.

Ebisu took a cup of tea, a cracker and some cheese, and leaned back. He took a moment to enjoy the food, then sipped his tea and nodded his thanks.

"Excellent cheese. Spicy."

"Thanks," Hazō said. "We bought it from a guy a few miles outside of Leaf, in one of the small villages. I'm not sure what the inclusion is that gives it the kick, but I really enjoy it." He sipped his tea, not pushing. Ebisu would come around to the actual topic in his own time.

"My training course with your clanless ninja is complete."

Well, that didn't take long. "Indeed. You gave them an extra week, actually."

Ebisu shrugged. "We lost Tanaka in the Collapse and Asaski's family had their shop destroyed. We were doing search and rescue with the rest of Leaf and afterwards I wasn't going to deny them two days to grieve and settle family affairs. Not more than two though; best way to handle grief is to stay busy."

"Thank you. That was kind."

The master instructor was possessed of a truly magnificent snort. "Practical. Can't get a damn lick of use out of someone the day of, or usually the day after, a major loss."

Hazō hid a smile at the protestation.

"Anyway," Ebisu said with a sniff, "it's done. Training complete. They were better than I expected."

"Oh?"

Ebisu nodded. "Mostly. Chisaka barely scraped by, but the others came along quicker than I expected and Fuyuki shows real promise. You were right; clanless aren't innately inferior."

Hazō blinked. "Thank you," he said cautiously. "Thank you very much. People very rarely simply tell me that I was right about something."

"Then they're damn fools. If you can't admit when you're wrong, or that you didn't notice something, how do you ever improve?"

Hazō laughed. "A good question. Anyway, what now?"

"We go tell the Hokage that the educational system needs to get revamped. Not just the Academy, either. You were right at the beginning of this; if the six you gave me are at all representative then the clanless are a largely untapped well of potential, and Leaf needs as many strong ninja as it can get. We need to step up our game across the board."

"I am really excited to hear you say that," Hazō said after a moment of struggling to keep himself from squeeing in delight.

Ebisu nodded. "Sure. Anyway, this should be considered a part of the Gōketsu contribution to the contest."

"The Gōketsu contribution? You don't want it for yourself?"

Ebisu shrugged. "I try to maintain a realistic assessment of the world. I'm a mediocre field ninja but the best trainer of my generation. It makes no sense to have a home-front ninja be a Summoner, so that's out. I have more money than I know what to do with—shoot, I give most of it away—so getting debts paid off or taxes refunded isn't really a big deal. I love what I do and I hate dealing with bullshit paperwork, so managing a huge estate or being on the Council or head of a new clan has less than zero interest for me. Beyond that, no single ninja is going to win this on his own when competing against entire clans, so taking the credit myself doesn't matter. I have no need to put something in just to show the Will of Fire; my entire life is the Will of Fire. I set aside personal glory years ago and devoted myself to a life of service; I have achieved riches and respect for that, but not glory. You, on the other hand, desperately need to earn your place in Leaf and the respect of your peers. This will help, and of course I will help you achieve that; you demonstrated the Will of Fire by opening my eyes to a better way to serve."

"Thank you," Hazō said after a moment. "I...I really don't even know what to say to that."

Ebisu shrugged again. "Then don't say anything. Now, when we present this we shouldn't waste the Hokage's time. We should have a detailed, written plan that we can put on his desk for later review and implementation. We should also have our ducks in a row for a verbal summary.

"I see three basic advantages that clans have over clanless: First, it's easy to identify clan children as potential ninja, since children of ninja/ninja pairs are always ninja, and ninja/civilian pairs are ninja more often than not. Leaf needs to get better at identifying ninja by-blows and civ/civ sports.

"Second, clan children get a better basic education, both academic and physical, as well as meditation and other activities useful in basic chakra study. That's going to be harder to change, but we can start by giving that sort of education to everyone who might possibly be a candidate.

"Third, clan children get additional, personalized training outside of Academy hours, as well as more money spent on their training in the form of time with advanced tutors and such."

"My Uncle Kagome has some ideas that might be worth considering for the Academy curriculum," Hazō offered. "He's been tutoring an Academy student, Yamamoto Honoka. She was a first-year at risk of failing out due to the academic side of things and now her grades are up and he's taught her enough chakra work to be able to operate seals."

Ebisu's eyebrows shot up. "He taught a firstie to operate seals? Is he insane?"

Hazō reflected on that question for a moment and then chose to avoid the topic. "It worked? She's fine, and doing very well. When Jiraiya found out, he insisted that she be kept on close watch for two weeks, with regular checkups by a medic and reviews of her chakra system by a Hyūga to make sure she wasn't hurting herself. She's fine."

Ebisu started to speak, paused, took a deep breath, and started over. "Your uncle got lucky," he said at last. "I have seen too many kids kill themselves with chakra training, or burn their coils so badly they crippled themselves for the rest of their lives. There's a reason we don't teach first- or second-year students to use chakra and it's not just because we're backwards idiots as I assume your uncle believes."

"I...don't really know what to say to that," Hazō said. "It's working. Honoka is doing very well at her studies, she's happy and healthy."

"How much experience does your uncle have with teaching ninja students?"

"I mean...he trained me?"

"He was an instructor at your Academy?"

"Well, no."

"Did you have him as an outside tutor while you were training at the Academy?"

"No. I only started studying with him a couple years ago."

"So you were already a field ninja at the time, with a fully-developed chakra system. I assume he was your teacher in sealcraft; did he teach you anything else?"

"No."

"How many students has he trained aside from you and this girl?"

"...I don't know?"

"So, to sum up: The most respected ninja instructor in Leaf, who spent a decade teaching at every level of the Academy before starting to focus on the senior students and adult ninja, is telling you that teaching first-year students to do chakra work is dangerous. Your uncle, who has no apparent experience at teaching basic chakra development, is telling you that it's fine. Is that about right?"

"Um."

Ebisu nodded. "How long has he been training her?"

Hazō thought back. "I'm not exactly sure, but several months. They started sometime while we were at the Chūnin Exams."

"The children that I saw fry themselves were typically able to get through six or seven months before the damage became visible. The deaths were usually boys who decided that they were 'too awesome' to listen to the safety precautions put forth by their fuddy-duddy instructors and decided to teach themselves something 'cool' like tree-walking because they 'knew better' about what they could handle. They ended up rupturing their coils and dying. Girls have that problem less often because they tend to listen better. Their issue is typically overtraining and burning their coils. They end up crippled—sometimes paralyzed, sometimes palsied, sometimes brain-burned. Rarely dead, though that's hardly a mercy.

"Based on the little I know about your uncle, I doubt he'll be willing to change his mind until he sees evidence that he's wrong, which basically means until the girl is irreparably harmed. Fine. Maybe he's right about this girl, in which case Leaf will end up with a strong ninja and he can learn the lesson with his next student. Maybe he's wrong and she'll end up crippled, in which case he'll stop assuming he knows better. Risking one child is worth it if it keeps him from damaging others, but I strongly suggest you go back to giving her daily checkups. Under no circumstances should you allow him to take on additional non-graduated ninja students. Ever. If he wants to be able to teach children, have him come to me and I'll talk to him. If I decide that he's actually able to listen then I'll consider teaching him how to do it safely. If he takes on young students other than Yamamoto then I will report him to the Hokage. Understood?"

Hazō swallowed. "Understood."

Ebisu studied him for a moment. "With respect, you're a teenager and a Clan Head. Both of those facts are often associated with an unwillingness to take outside direction, a sense that you know better than anyone else, and a need to push back against anything you regard as a challenge to your authority. I don't know you well enough to know if you have those characteristics or not, but they are typical for your age and position. Let me be very clear: I'm not threatening you, I'm offering you information about what the future holds. If your uncle damages or kills an Academy student through his inexperience and lack of caution, my Way requires that I report him. If I report him, the Hokage will have him executed, because to do otherwise would open the door for other people to commit the same sort of negligent child murder. If she were a child of your clan being trained by an inexperienced clan member then maybe there would be some wiggle room, but that's not the case here. You're talking about a clanless ninja student who has no one to speak for her and is therefore considered a ward of the Hokage. If she is damaged or killed as a result of your uncle's training, your uncle is a dead man."

"I...see."

"Also, don't think that adopting her makes this go away. Your uncle has no training as an instructor and he started training her while she was still clanless; the case will be judged on that basis. Once she's graduated, fine, he can teach her whatever he likes. Any official ninja is welcome to take on whatever training they want and is assumed to be smart enough to be responsible for their own well-being. Students, no. They study at the Academy or with tutors who trained with experienced teachers."

"I'll talk to him."

"Good. Now, let's go back to how we bring the clanless up to snuff."

o-o-o-o​

"Good morning, Gaku," Hazō said, ducking into his office to find his secretary waiting.

"Good morning, sir," the older man said. "There is tea in the storage seal. I have your morning briefing."

Hazō dropped into his chair with a sigh and unsealed the tea, pouring for himself and for Gaku. "Hit me."

Gaku took a polite sip of the tea, then set it down and looked at his notes. "The skyslider team continues to show little progress. There's an argument holding them up as to the correct positioning of the 'tension lines', whatever those are. I told them to flip a coin to decide which version would be used first, but get it moving again."

"Perfect, thank you." Sage, it was such a relief having competent subordinates.

"The team that you assigned to researching...'sanitation', I believe you called it? They're not making any progress. They're too busy arguing about whether it's better to do fresh surveys themselves or trust existing maps, about what to make the pipes out of—one team member is suggesting wood, because it's easy to get and to shape. Others are shouting that down because it will rot and need to be replaced frequently. Then someone suggested that they seal it with pitch. That led to objections from the person who wants to use lead because it's cheap for a metal and won't decay." He shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, they're proposing virtually everything. Someone wanted copper, but it's too expensive and there physically isn't enough. Someone else wanted iron, but it rusts. Someone else wanted concrete, but black water would flow through it poorly. Then they debate routes and how to dig...it's a mess."

"Tell them to build some small test cases using each of the different materials," Hazō said. "Collect some of the contents of the latrines and pour it through to see which one works best in a first-pass test."

Gaku raised an eyebrow. "'First pass'? Very witty, sir."

Hazō frowned, then shook his head with a smile. "Unintentional. Anyway, what else?"

"The 'toilet' design group is getting nowhere. The U-bend pipe ends up blocked no matter what they do, and the thing sticks and overflows. I told them to keep working on it."

"Good enough. What else?"

"Reconstruction on the Naked Jaybird is complete and it will be open for service the day after tomorrow, as soon as the kitchens are re-stocked."

"Brilliant!"

"Yes, I'm looking forward to trying it." He glanced down at his notes. "Kenta's latest construction job fell through; he let the customer talk him into underbidding the price and overpromising on the schedule. He's already over budget and he's taking penalties for every day that it's late."

"Hm. Can we hire him some more people, or simply buy him out of it? Pay for another construction company to finish if necessary?"

"Yes sir. If you'd like, I can take Granny Mayuka over to negotiate a new contract."

"Perfect. Do it."

"Very good, sir. Now, we've got some disciplinary offenses: One fist fight that got out of hand, two petty thefts, and some drunken property damage. Also...."

o-o-o-o​
"Noburi, what a pleasant surprise," Asuma said, a broad smile on his face as he waved his visitor to the chair opposite himself. Two cups of tea waited on the table, equidistant between the two of them; Noburi waited for the invitation, then set his barrel down, arbitrarily took the cup on the right, and settled into the chair.

"Thank you for seeing me, sir."

"Of course. What was on your mind?"

Noburi rolled the cup between his palms for a moment as he gathered up his words. The heat felt good; it was cold out and his hands were a little numb from the walk over to Hokage Tower.

"Sir, you're aware of my bloodline," Noburi began, letting the words out carefully. "You probably know that I can't regenerate chakra normally, I need to drain it from others. I keep it in the water of my barrel"—he knocked on the lid of the object itself where it sat on the floor beside him—"and I can dole it out to other people by them drinking from the barrel."

Asuma nodded and took a sip of his own tea. "Indeed."

"The emphasis is on the 'unable to regenerate chakra normally' part. I'm sure you're aware of everything that's going on at the Gōketsu estate. We're using Multiple Earth Wall jutsu to put walls around the estate, we're using it to build a ton of housing and other buildings, we're using fire jutsu to heat water for baths and laundry. There's a lot going on, and it all needs chakra. I've been underwriting all of that and we've been buying chakra from Leaf ninja in the form of D-rank missions."

"I'm aware." He smiled. "Hawk had good things to say about your cafeteria."

Noburi paused for a moment; he hadn't realized there had been ANBU on the grounds lately.

"Thank you, sir," he said finally, choosing to leave the issue. "Anyway, as to the chakra drain thing...it bothers me, sir. I'm not always full at the end of the day, but that's fine—I'm never below half and I've got more chakra than your average jōnin. Your average pair of jōnin, probably. The flip side of that, of course, is that there's a lot of Leaf ninja running around at below their max because of my needs."

"I'm grateful that you're thinking about that," Asuma said, giving him a respectful nod. "It shows the Will of Fire."

Noburi paused, clearly a little flummoxed by that. "Um...thank you, sir. Hazō is working on it—he wants to capture a bunch of animals to use as a chakra farm, but I've run the numbers and I'm not convinced it can work. Most of the smaller animals around here don't have a lot of chakra and even with the large ones we would need dozens. The logistics of it are challenging."

Asuma cocked his head, puzzled and slightly concerned. "That sounds bad."

"Yes, sir. It's not critical; there's enough ninja in Leaf that I could spread my drain out across them and it wouldn't be much of an issue, but then it would take a lot of time to get face-to-face with each of them."

"I see. And do you have an answer?"

"Yes sir. Before I go into it, I have a question about clan secrets. My understanding is that keeping clan secrets of Leaf ninja is expected and required, but for a Leaf nin to disclose clan secrets from another Village...well, that would count as legitimate espionage and therefore be regarded a positive action. And, of course, I am a Leaf ninja of the Gōketsu clan, and therefore any bloodline secrets that I might be aware of from some random clan in Mist...well, it's practically a patriotic duty to share the information. Is that correct?"

Asuma chuckled. "Indeed. In fact, it's expected that Leaf ninja will hand over all information they acquire about the capabilities of foreign Villages. There are circumstances where I wouldn't insist but, as a general rule, I would expect to hear about it. On the other hand, the three of you are something of a gray area. The Tower will not pressure you to hand over details of your former clans—in part because it would raise issues of cultural norms within Leaf and in part because we are trying to forge alliance with Mist and it could cause diplomatic issues once the information eventually came out that we had pressured bloodline information out of you. That said, no. There is no problem with you revealing secrets of Mist clans."

Noburi licked his lips and nodded. "Good to know. The Wakahisa have koi ponds that they use as a chakra source for the whole family. The koi are specially bred to have a lot of chakra for their size—not much in absolute terms, but a lot for their size. More importantly, they reinforce one another. The more of them in the school, the more chakra each koi has."

Asuma's eyebrows shot up. "Interesting. I wasn't aware such a thing existed."

Noburi shrugged. "Like I said, clan secret of the Wakahisa. There's a lot of problems with the things; they're territorial, they bite, they each need an insane amount of food on their own and even more when they're in groups, and they don't always take well to new koi being added to the pond. Still, it's manageable."

Asuma hid a wicked smile behind a sip of his teacup. "Fascinating information. Still, I doubt the Wakahisa would want to sell any of their koi to the Gōketsu."

"I...wasn't really thinking about buying them, sir."

"Why, Noburi! Are you suggesting that I should authorize a mission to steal clan-secret fish from a very much more-or-less allied nation? I'm shocked. Shocked, I say."

Noburi laughed. "Oh, no sir. I'm sure you would never authorize such a thing. In fact, I'm sure you've never even heard of these fish at all, so how could you authorize it?" He paused for a moment, smiling. "Of course, everyone knows how impetuous Hazō is."

"Indeed," Asuma said, nodding sagely. "Terribly impetuous. Always rushing off, making dramatic speeches and insulting elite jōnin. That young man is wildly out of control. Probably get himself killed some day, but what can one do?" He shook his head in exaggerated sorrow. "It's not like I can keep watch over him every minute."

Noburi grinned. "Indeed. Apropos of nothing, the family was talking about making a pilgrimage to the Todoroki Shrine. Hazō sat us all down for a conversation about it over breakfast. He wanted us to brainstorm up what disguises to use and all that. The final consensus was 'ourselves'—it's a public shrine, so there's no reason to complicate things. As a new clan it's not too surprising that we might want to ask the blessing of the Sage. Where better to do it than at the place where he blessed the very lands and waters?"

"Very sensible. I'm glad to see such piety and devotion among your clan."

"Thank you, sir. Since we're going to be in that area anyway, could I ask your permission for us to swing through Mist on our way back? It would be nice to see my sisters again for a bit, and I'm sure Hazō would like to see his mother."

"Did he say that?"

"I...may not have raised this topic with him yet."

"Ah, I see. Well, family bonds are important, and will go a long way towards securing the Mist/Leaf alliance. Spend the week, or even two if you need it."

"Thank you, sir," Noburi said. He tossed back the last of his tea and set the cup back on the saucer on Asuma's desk, then stood up and bowed. "With your permission?"

"Of course, of course. Have a pleasant afternoon. I'll begin assembling the appropriate diplomatic papers and rules of engagement for you. Give me a few days, and be sure to let me know before you leave."

o-o-o-o​

March 14, 1069 AS

The sun was lowering towards the horizon. Hazō was standing atop a granite oven, surrounded by several hundred people—all of Clan Gōketsu save those in the hospital, on missions, or unable to be spared from essential tasks.

"Hear me, my clansmen!" Hazō cried, projecting his voice as much as he could. "Hear me, people of the Gōketsu."

"We are the Gōketsu, a clan of ragamuffins and vagabonds, a clan of the poor and the shunned...a clan of fighters, proud and stubborn. We have each been kicked by fate, but we got up again. We have each been looked down upon for our birth, but we refused to back away. We have cried over lost loved ones and then squared our shoulders and cared for the living. We were born of different blood, born with different names. We are now the Gōketsu blood, the Gōketsu name. All of you, all of us: The Gōketsu."

"Gōketsu!" shouted Mari. The bulk of the crowd echoed her a moment later.

"What is the Gōketsu Clan?" Hazō demanded. "We are the clan of hope. The clan of progress. The clan of welcome. Other clans pride themselves on their 'pure blood', they congratulate themselves on their traditions, on their bloodlines. Do the Hyūga open their gates to those in need?"

"No!" replied the crowd.

"True! Do the Motoyoshi share their wealth, raise up the poor, seek a better future for all?"

"NO!"

"True! Do the Kurusu build schools and hospitals?"

"NO!"

"True!" He paused, allowing the fervor to recede slightly. "The Gōketsu are different," he said more calmly. "We are the clan of progress, and of welcome." He paused again, surveying the crowd and making eye contact with people here and there. "Speak if you ever went to bed cold or hungry before coming here!"

A wave of "Me!" / "I did!" / "Yes!" spread through the crowd.

"Has anyone gone hungry since coming to the Gōketsu?"

Rumbles of negation and shaken heads.

"I can't hear you, my clansmen! Have you gone hungry since becoming a Gōketsu?!"

"NO!"

"Good!" He paused and shook his head ruefully. "As to cold...well, hopefully you'll give me a pass for the first couple weeks in those damn tents."

Laughter rippled outwards.

"Still, we are out from under the canvas and into homes fit for a human. The kitchens are working. There should be enough blankets and clothes." He nodded towards the self-named 'Old Granny', the woman in charge of the estate store and therefore the Gōketsu's unofficial chief of supply. He waggled a finger at her. "If there's not, then I'm going to have a sharp word for you, Granny!"

She grinned a two-toothed grin at him; another wave of laughter spread.

Hazō surveyed the crowd again, allowing his face to become serious. "This world is cold, and dark, and unforgiving. Everywhere that I have traveled, human beings live in poverty, in squalor, in danger. I say: No more! We are the Gōketsu, and our purpose is to raise up all people in all lands. Food, warmth, safety, knowledge—these things are the due of every human, regardless of the station of their birth or the strength of their chakra. Will you join me?"

"Yes!"

"The Hokage has called for all the ninja of Leaf to show the Will of Fire by contributing their jutsu, their seals, their riches to the benefit of the ninja who are Leaf's protectors. I praise him for this! A cheer for the Hokage!"

"Hooray!"

"I intend to take inspiration from the Hokage. The Gōketsu will take his example and go a step beyond! Our clan will devote our efforts to benefit all the citizens of Leaf, both ninja and civilian. This shall be the Gōketsu Way!"

He pointed into the crowd. "Gōketsu Wataru! You are a master cordwainer. Are you willing to honor the Gōketsu by making shoes for Leaf citizens who can't afford them?"

Wataru had been briefed ahead of time and knew his response, so there was no pause before he shouted back, "I am!"

"Gōketsu!" Hazō cried, thumping his chest in salute. He pointed at a woman. "Gōketsu Nonoka! You are a teacher at the Gōketsu School. Are you willing to honor the Gōketsu by teaching non-Gōketsu who have no other chance to learn?"

"I am!"

"Gōketsu!" Hazō thumped his chest in salute again, then gestured broadly. "All of you, all of the Clan Gōketsu: Are you willing to honor the Gōketsu by seeking ways to make the lives of others better?"

"WE ARE!"

"We are the Gōketsu, and the Way of our clan is to uplift the world. Will you join me?"

"WE WILL!"

"Yes!" Hazō shouted. "We are the Gōketsu! Family! Clan! We are bound, each to each! We care for each other, and we care for the world! So long as poverty or injustice exists, there is more work to be done. We are the Gōketsu!"

"Gō-KE-tsu! Gō-KE-tsu! Gō-KE-tsu! Gō-KE-tsu! Gō-KE-tsu!" cried Noburi, Akane, and Mari. Haru and Kagome-sensei missed their timing, but they joined in with the out-of-sync shout from the civilians. By the second call, the entire clan was on the beat to chant in unison the family name that bound them together.





XP AWARD: 25

Brevity XP: 0

Author's Note:


This update covered 7 days.

  • You had the discussion about how to infiltrate Todoroki Shrine. As referenced in the chapter, the consensus is that it's legit to go as yourselves. So long as your intent is investigation and/or bargaining (as opposed to assassination) then there's no need for overwhelming firepower. Hazō, Noburi, Haru, and Akane would be sufficient, although along a more senior person wouldn't be a bad idea. Kagome, of course, is opposed to the entire plan.
  • You thought about the scientific method.
  • You used agile project management, team building, branching diagrams, etc.
  • Noburi has brought you his "Hey, after we hit the shrine, let's go to Mist and steal some koi so that we can have effectively unlimited chakra for always" plan.
It is now about 6pm.

Vote time! What to do now?

Voting ends on Wednesday, February 19, 2020, at 12pm London time.
 
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Chapter 327: Setting New Coordinates

"I enjoy being brought into deep, dark, claustrophobic underground spaces as much as anyone who's ever spent time in a perverted noble's 'special' dungeon," Mari said wryly, "but around you, I'm starting to get used to it. What horrors await this time, Hazō?"

"If it's advice on what to do with your love life, you've come to the right place," Noburi added. "A deep, dark, claustrophobic underground space is perfect tomb material."

"Says the man with Hyūga as his love rival," Hazō parried.

"Hah," Noburi said. "Hyūga is that fat ugly girl that other girls stand next to so they can look better by comparison. I'll invite him over one of these days just so Yuno can fall even more in love with me."

"It's going well, then?" Hazō asked.

Noburi gave a gentle but extremely self-satisfied smile. "You betcha. That chakra beast mission was just the thing to show off my manly side. This time I even managed not to look like a complete idiot in front of her."

Hazō gave a mock gasp.

"In combat, I mean." Noburi rolled his eyes. "We sparred together back in Isan once, and it… didn't go great. I could feel my masculinity getting chopped in half with an axe."

Mari snorted.

"My masculinity," Noburi repeated peevishly. "I made a point of not saying 'manhood', or anything else you could jump on."

Hazō looked at Mari.

Do you want to take this one?

No, you go ahead.


"Noburi," Hazō said gravely, "Trust me when I say nobody present has any intention of jumping on your manhood. For a start, do you realise how long it would take us to find it?"

"Use a Fire Country map, duh," Noburi said. "Look under 'major landmarks and pilgrimage sites'.

"On the other hand, yours is Bear Country. Terra incognita which nobody wants or dares to cognit. Doomed to be forever isolated, nay, quarantined for the greater good."

Hazō felt something stab him from the inside. An all-too-familiar blade, not sharp—not anymore—but not a training kunai either.

"Forever isolated?" he repeated, mostly to himself.

Noburi winced. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Uncomfortable silence.

"I didn't realise you were still sensitive about… it," Noburi said. "I thought you were, well, over it by now."

In the background, Mari sighed, though whether at Noburi's insensitivity or Hazō's immaturity was anyone's guess.

-o-​

Earlier…

Hazō hit the ground with a thud… again. His back was not going to thank him tomorrow. Or rather, it was already filing a report with the Muscle secret police, and an invitation to T&I (or in this case, just T) was only a matter of time.

"Are you all right, Hazō?"

Akane reached over and helped him up. He winced.

"You seem distracted," she said. "Usually, you'd have seen that feint coming and countered with a right hook. Obviously, the act of feinting was in itself a feint and I was setting myself up to counter your counter—we should really ask Keiko to spar with us more often—but you didn't even get that far. What's up?"

"Just stuff on my mind," Hazō said.

"Want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing," Hazō said. But he looked at Akane again, and hesitated. "Just stress building up. There's so much to do, between the clan stuff, and the ninjutsu stuff, and the politics stuff, and special missions to plan, and so many different people and kinds of people to wrangle, and we have to maintain momentum now that we finally have it, and the political situation in Leaf is suddenly fluid and if we fail to take advantage of it now we might not get another chance, and Keiko and Naruto and Ami are out there somewhere on a really dangerous mission I have no way to influence, and… and... and there's no time to take time off, not really, because this is what I wanted all along and I have to give it everything I have now that it's finally within reach."

Akane gave a sympathetic smile as she leaned back against a tree. "I thought so. You're always in such a rush, Hazō. Trying so hard to seize every opportunity. It's almost as if you've forgotten that you're a genius at making opportunities yourself. You don't have to grab every one that life dangles in front of you at the same time. Maybe you shouldn't. Not if it wears you out to the point where you get yourself kicked in the jaw by someone whose fighting style you know off by heart."

"That I do," Hazō agreed, rubbing the location in question in a futile effort to assuage the pain. He really did.

"Actually," Akane said after a few seconds of silently watching him fail to recover his dignity, "I've had something on my mind lately too.

"Hazō, do you remember why we broke up?"

She watched him alertly.

Of course he remembered. How could he forget? Looking back, the pattern was easy to trace. With a high probability of termination on its existing course, her line of causality had shifted into entanglement with his, and continued in close parallel through several other points of existential instability. In the end, they reached what seemed like a point of near-convergence on several planes, only to discover untracked layers that led to deviation. The pull of his causal gravitation was disrupting entanglement with her line rather than intensifying it, and ultimately, the crossing separated them according to a version of a previously encountered pattern, albeit from a different coordinate set. Why would she ask about something so obvious?

"Sure I do," Hazō said. "Your causal line was following a course which would result in excessive parallelisation, and consequently switched planes while maintaining entanglement."

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Was I unclear?" Hazō frowned. "Here, let me try to collapse it to four dimensions."

"We started at these points here." He put his fingertips in the appropriate positions in mid-air. He only had ten fingers, which dismayed him, especially since their motion was interdependent, but Akane had most of the same data he did, so a simplified version should still get the basic idea cross. "If we take these," he wiggled several fingers, but not too much lest they slip out of alignment, "as our pre-divergence patterns, and assume that they're following linear motion on these planes—I know they're not really linear, but you get the idea—then proceed to..."He cursed silently. "Would you mind giving me your left hand in the third, seventh, twelfth, and thirteenth dimensions, Akane? I need to indicate more points."

But the coordinates of Akane's hand changed (in a linear fashion) as he reached for it. "Hazō," she said with perfect cold seriousness, "please tell me this is just a badly-timed joke."

"What are you talking about?" Hazō asked. "I'm trying to answer your question. If you're low on cognitive space, I can try to stick to three, but I don't know if the resulting model is going to be accurate enough to be useful. Maybe if I had a dozen sheets of paper so I could build a simulacrum… but then we'd have to come up with suitable notation… Akane, could you give me a little time to think?"

The coordinates of Akane's body changed significantly, relative to the bounded context. "Yes," she said tensely. "Yes, I think I need some time to think too."

-o-​

Hazō couldn't remember, now, what it was he'd said that made Akane leave without explaining what was on her mind. He was pretty sure, though, that it had been eminently reasonable, and unworthy of the overreaction. He'd have to figure out where she'd gone, and see if he could resume the conversation.

For now, though…

"I wanted to talk to you about the Shadow Clone Technique," Hazō began. "You know how, despite being the same age as us, Naruto is an unstoppable god of war?"

Mari and Noburi nodded.

"I think the reason is his ridiculously large chakra reserves."

"And the fact that he's been trained from birth by some of the most powerful ninja in the world," Noburi said.

"And the fact that he has unique jinchūriki powers we have no idea about and can't distinguish from his observed abilities," Mari added.

"And the fact that he's probably had free access to all of Leaf's most powerful techniques, including all of Jiraiya's ninjutsu, since he was old enough to consciously use chakra," Noburi said.

"Work with me here," Hazō said. "Huge chakra reserves mean he can create a huge number of shadow clones. That dramatically amplifies his learning speed, which is why he can be so powerful despite being the same age as us."

"Makes sense," Noburi said.

Hazō took a deep breath.

"I think we can do the same."

"Godlike power on top of my natural awesomeness?" Noburi asked. "I'm listening."

"Nobody in the world has ever had the unique combination of chakra drain powers and the Shadow Clone Technique. With your help, we can have functionally unlimited chakra. We can do the same thing as Naruto. With a little time, we can become as powerful as him."

He paused to take in the other two's looks of absolute attention.

"I've made some off-the-cuff calculations," Hazō said, bringing out a sheet of paper which was immediately waved away, "and I reckon that if we really focus on making this work, we can eventually reach the point where we're training and learning four times faster than we are now. And we're still talking about the Shadow Clone Technique, so we get massive multitasking benefits. We could be a family of Jiraiyas within the decade."

Mari's expression was distant. "A family of Jiraiyas…"

"All the power we need to change the world," Hazō said decisively. "But this needs total OPSEC, because depending on who finds out, they could do this better than us, and then they'll be unstoppable, and we'll be all but at their mercy. Orochimaru can probably use his powers to find some way to offset the stress from reintegrating the clones, which is the technique's biggest weakness, and I'm pretty sure he can get his hands on a Wakahisa if he tries, or one of the other draining bloodlines. If his powers get multiplied by four, it's over. This whole world will be his Basement. I don't know what the odds are of Ami getting the technique—she's a foreign ninja who should have no possible way of learning it, but she also rules a third of the village and is very good with favours—but she's also an optimiser playing on at least our level, and the Frozen Skein might also be able to help her manage clone sickness. It wouldn't be quite as bad as Orochimaru getting it, but she's already a different kind of dangerous. I don't want to have to rely on Keiko to save the world."

Noburi nodded. "Can't have the clans getting it either. I'm getting visions of infinite UberHyūgas, and it's not fun."

"Right. Size matters. Whatever we come up with, they have the people and resources to make more effective use of it if they get it. And since they don't have a chakra drain user of their own, they're going to turn Leaf upside down to get at you."

"So it's a main family secret," Noburi said. "Gotcha. As long as nobody else makes the same leap of logic you did."

"Leaf doesn't have any chakra drainers, and Mist and Hot Springs and whoever else don't have shadow clones. But you're right. Once we've done it, there's a risk somebody else will work it out. We can't use Naruto levels of chakra without anyone noticing that we're using Naruto levels of chakra."

"We're the Gōketsu," Mari said with a smile. "What are we good at? Crazy ideas that inexplicably work and embarrassing OPSEC failures. I see a particularly bad one in the near future where top-secret documents listing the clan's Bloodline Limit powers get stolen and do the rounds until everyone who matters knows what they are. Did you know the Iron Nerve lets people perfectly replicate motions they've made before? Or that Keiko's Frozen Skein gives her special powers of calculation and optimisation? Or that Kagome's Handsight lets him sense when people approach an object he's touched, so he'll know you're there even if you disarm or bypass his traps? Obviously, this document also lists our terrible weaknesses, like the way the Iron Nerve won't let you stop a motion once you've started it, and that's why Hazō can't stop himself once he begins saying something stupid. And of course, Vampiric Dew can't be used on clones. Can't let that one get out, or the clan is doomed.

"How can we power the Shadow Clone Technique? Who knows? We invented skywalkers. We're in the process of inventing more things that move through the air for some reason. There's no point even trying to guess what insanity we've cooked up this time."

"I like it." Noburi grinned.

"Won't work on our main threats, though," he said more soberly. "Orochimaru and Ami know about both shadow clones and chakra drain. Ami might know that Wakahisa can power other kinds of clone perfectly well, and draw her own conclusions—or just see through the trick full stop. Orochimaru… I have no idea what he knows, but if there's anyone who can guess what Vampiric Dew is really capable of, it's him. If he ever comes up with the possibility of we're talking about here, he might just decide to test it, in which case some Wakahisa out there is in big trouble. Or some Wakahisa in here." He gave a shudder.

"There's always an element of danger," Hazō said. "It's part of being a ninja. But we have the chance to take one of the world's most powerful ninjutsu and supercharge it until it turns us into ninja to rival the Legendary Three. Don't you think that's worth the risk?"

-o-​

You have received 1 + 1 = 2 XP.

-o-​

Mari and Noburi do not know Asuma's conditions for letting them learn SC. You will have to ask someone more qualified at a different juncture.

Mari already has some Technique Hacking skill from when she was inventing her own genjutsu, but she decided to stop for reasons she can't quite remember now. In retrospect, she thinks it was probably the dangers involved. TH is a lot like sealing, except you can't run away from a disaster happening inside your own body. Shadow clones would mitigate this, but on the other hand, as somebody with her own issues, she is seriously spooked by what happened to Keiko, and is hesitant to risk going through the same thing.

The more he thinks about it, the more Noburi is worried about a lifetime of being a chakra barrel boy for his family as they ascend to heights he cannot reach. He'll go through with it anyway, because he wants to be the kind of person who puts his family's needs ahead of his own, but you had better be quick about that TH so he doesn't end up years behind.

Mari and Kagome are putting off the conversation about your Out-related situation in an unexpectedly emphatic way. You really thought they were starting to relax.

-o-​

What do you do?

Voting ends on Saturday 22nd of February, 9 a.m. New York Time.
 
Chapter 328: Children Die in Training

"You wanted to see me, Lord Gōketsu?" asked Kon Ai, Senior Medic of Leaf's prestigious General Hospital.

"Yes. Thank you for taking the time," Hazō said. "I've had reports about Academy students occasionally killing or harming themselves through chakra training, and I was hoping you might have details."

Kon frowned. "Details?"

"How often it happens, what the results are, what causes it, that sort of thing."

She considered that for a moment, then turned to pour some tea from the pot on her cluttered desk and offer Hazō his choice of cup. She took the remaining one and sipped thoughtfully, using it as an excuse to pause and gather her thoughts.

"Well," she said at last, "it's not very common, but it's not rare either. I couldn't give you exact counts but I'd guess it's maybe one in ten of the training injuries we get? Something like that."

"What sort of effects are we talking?"

She shrugged and sipped the tea again. "It varies. Fairly often they simply drop dead. The luckiest permanently burn out their chakra coils, usually with some degree of lost sensation, but are able to function afterwards. A degree of palsy is very common, and sometimes you'll see seizures as well—sporadic outbursts of unconsciousness and uncontrolled thrashing, usually with no memory of the event afterwards. Blindness, loss of hearing, difficulty with speech or memory, and other physical or sensory issues are normal. No matter what the effects, the victims rarely live long. They have trouble eating, they get sick more easily, that kind of thing."

"I see."

"May I ask why you want to know, My Lord?"

"My uncle...um. Clan business, I'm afraid."

"Of course."

o-o-o-o​

"Over-training their chakra? Yes, My Lord. Relatively common, actually. I've been teaching about four years, I've probably seen a dozen cases. In my experience it's usually fatal. When it's not then there's palsy, paralysis, sickness. They usually don't live long afterwards. Why do you ask?"

o-o-o-o​

"Hm. Not all that common, in my experience. Effects are usually palsy, paralysis, general malaise, or death. Death is more among the boys than the girls—I guess the ancestors simply like girls better."

o-o-o-o​

"Pretty common, actually. Shoot, last year the group I was working with had a half dozen of the boys die, out of a class of twenty-two. The girls tend to have fewer deaths; they don't have the courage to train that hard, so typically they just end up paralyzed or palsied. The Sage is merciful, though; the damaged ones usually don't burden their families for too long."

o-o-o-o​

"Records, My Lord? Why would we keep records on the ones who don't graduate? It's just a security risk; no, we burn the papers immediately."

o-o-o-o​

Ito Hidemi was clearly uncomfortable about letting them into her home, but she also wasn't going to flatly refuse a Clan Head. Especially not a Clan Head who had come with money in hand, offering to pay ten thousand ryō in order to talk to her daughter for a few minutes.

"I promise we'll be quick," Noburi said, smiling at her. "Two minutes, then we're out."

"Very well," the woman said. "Please, be patient with her, and don't laugh. It's hard."

"Why would we laugh?" Hazō asked, frowning.

Ito hesitated. "Her condition is...difficult. She twitches, and her speech is bad. She's hard to understand, and she can't control it very well, so sometimes she says things without intending to. Also, her memory is going. She forgets things and people quickly."

Hazō nodded somberly. "I promise we'll be careful."

The sole living parent of a child damaged by ninja training nodded in thanks and led the two of them into the back room of their two-room house. The house was on the edge of Pauper's Square, a place where the poor and dispossessed gathered. The houses that surrounded the Square were barely more than hovels, drafty and thin-walled, but still better than the tent city that filled the Square.

The back room was barely large enough for the six mattresses jammed together on the floor. It was gloomy, lit only by a smoky bowl of oil with a wick in it. It was also empty except for a girl, thin and pale and perhaps ten years old, who sat cross-legged on one of the mattresses. She had a mortar and pestle in front of her and was laboriously grinding something up. It was slow going, since her child-sized hands shook like a leaf, making it hard to maintain an even motion.

As the Gōketsu walked in, a particularly intense spasm went through the girl's body, dragging the pestle sideways hard enough that it hit the rim and was jolted out of her hands. With a tired familiarity, she waited for the spasm to pass, then clumsily picked up the pestle and went back to work.

"Ruriko?" the girl's mother said softly. "You have visitors."

Ruriko looked up; the left side of her face sagged, her tongue visible where it hung out the corner of her lip. "Wh' 'r' y'u?" she slurred, the words barely comprehensible.

"Hello, Ms Ito. My name is Gōketsu Hazō, and I was hoping to ask you some questions about what happened to you. Would that be all right?"

"Qu'th'ns?" Another spasm went through her and a pair of doglike yelps fell from her damaged lips.

"Yes," Noburi said, sadness audible in his voice. "We're trying to find out about overtraining and how to prevent it. How to cure it, hopefully. Is there anything you can tell us?"

Ruriko looked at Noburi, then at her mother. When Ito nodded, Ruriko shrugged. "Wuz a nin'a. Las' ye', ma' a mithake wi' chak' a'heezun. Hurt." Again she barked, thrashing back and forth and banging her head against the wall. Her mother rushed forward and caught her, tucking a rolled-up blanket behind her head to prevent injury.

After a few seconds the seizure faded and Ruriko looked around vaguely. She smiled at her mother, then noticed Hazō and Noburi standing in the doorway. "Wh' 'r' y'u?" she slurred, the words barely comprehensible.

"Friends of your mother," Hazō said, forcing the Iron Nerve to conjure up a friendly smile that showed no trace of pity. "We were just leaving."

o-o-o-o​

"What's going on?" Kagome-sensei demanded suspiciously. "You never bring cookies to meetings unless it's something bad."

"It's about Honoka," Mari said, sliding the plate closer to him. "We have some information that you might need as her teacher."

Kagome-sensei took three of the cookies and shoved them in his mouth, chewing angrily. "Wha'?"

"Before anything else," Hazō said carefully, "I want to say that you should definitely keep teaching Honoka. She's doing really well with you and we don't want that to stop. Still, it might not be a bad idea for you to stop teaching her chakra manipulation."

"What?! What, you think I'm some kind of idiot like Jiraiya-stinker said? I told you, it's fine! We've been careful and she's doing fine."

"It's not that," Mari said calmly. "Ebisu gave us reports of children having accidents during chakra training. We investigated them and found that yes, it really does happen. Now, you're right: Honoka is doing fine under you. Still, Ebisu is highly respected. If he's nervous then he might cause problems for all of us. We need a way to prove to him that what you're doing is safe."

Kagome-sensei snorted and shoved another cookie in his mouth, mashing it to paste between his teeth and then gulping down the result. "It would have been fine if Jiraiya-stinker actually asked him before. That was what I wanted for my shiny thing, back when the kids were getting shiny new jutsu for the Exams. I told Jiraiya-stinker that I wanted Ebisu to come watch me teach Honoka, but he forgot about it. I reminded him once and he said that he'd get on it but Ebisu was really busy so it might be a while. Then he left for the stinking Exams and went and got his stinking stupid-headed self killed."

Mari paused, considering that. Hazō sat silent, letting her take the lead.

"Did you approach Ebisu about it after Jiraiya left?" she finally asked.

Kagome-sensei shook his head. "No. Honoka's doing fine. If I'd brought Ebisu in without Jiraiya-stinker there to tell him to keep his grubby hands off, he might have interfered. Better to wait until Jiraiya-stinker was back, or even until Honoka was fully trained. That would have proved that I'm way better than all those poopheads in the Academy."

"Okay," she said, nodding thoughtfully. "Probably a smart decision. Still, Ebisu knows about the situation now, and—"

"How?" Kagome-sensei demanded, shooting a suspicious look at Hazō.

"I...may have mentioned it, when we were discussing the results of his training those six clanless ninja," Hazō said uncomfortably. "He acknowledged that Leaf's training methods leave a lot to be desired where it comes to clanless ninja, and they need revision. I wanted him to know that it wasn't just adult ninja, it was also the Academy students. Honoka has been doing so well under you, so I thought—"

"You thought you'd just tell him that I was endangering her and that he should come take her away to be taught by those stupidheads who will kill her if she doesn't measure up?"

"No! I mean, I...wait, what?"

Kagome-sensei chomped another cookie to destruction, glaring at Hazō all the while. "They kill the kids who can't learn chakra, duh. What, you didn't know that?"

"No," Hazō said. "Are you sure?"

Kagome-sensei gave him a glare of utter contempt. "Half of them fail out in the first two years, when they're just doing academics. Third year, chakra training starts. No one fails out after that. No one. Not one single student. Sure are a lot of 'training accidents' though, almost always fatal."

Hazō and Mari exchanged grim glances.

"Sensei...I don't even know what to say to that," Hazō said. "Still, I think it's a problem for another day. Right now, the problem that I see is that there's a lot of Academy students who are in danger. We asked around and we couldn't get a clear picture of how many kids are dying from chakra training accidents, but it's definitely enough to worry about. We need to figure out a way to save them, and that's probably going to mean reforming the Academy curriculum. Fortunately, Ebisu is already onboard with making changes in Leaf's schooling, and he has a lot of influence. If we can give him a demonstrably better solution about how to teach chakra, he'll push it through.

"I spoke to Ebisu about you and Honoka; he was very insistent that you not take on any other non-graduated students. You can teach adults, but not anyone who doesn't have their headband yet. Are you okay with that?"

Kagome-sensei sat back in his seat, arms crossed. "Hmph."

"Kagome," Mari said, shooting Hazō an annoyed glance. "This is important. If you don't agree, it's going to be a major problem. I know it probably doesn't feel good from where you sit, but Ebisu really is trying to work with you here. He's got a different understanding of how the world works and he's loyal to Leaf the way you are loyal to us. He wants to protect the children of Leaf; he's taking a big risk by not interfering. Basically, he's giving you the chance to prove that your methods are good. We've already seen that he's willing to change his mind based on facts and evidence. As long as you and Honoka continue the way you've been going, he won't interfere."

"He better not! I'm not letting him and his stupid teachers cripple Honoka just because they aren't willing to teach her what she needs to know! I'll—"

"No one is going to interfere, sensei. Ebisu said that he would leave you alone as long as we made sure that Honoka got daily checkups. I'm sure it's annoying, but it's also a good way to convince Ebisu that you're right and he's wrong. Are you willing?"

"Hrmph." He glowered and demolished two more cookies. "Fine."

Hazō knew when to take the win, so he simply nodded respectfully and smiled. "Thank you, sensei."





XP AWARD: 33

Brevity XP: 0

Ami-style training XP: 5


Your creative training results are as follows:
  • 0 XP: Get five ninja to owe you favours without spending significant resources.
  • 1 XP: Create a civilian fanclub for a randomly selected ninja.
  • 1 XP: Meditate while chakra-adhering to a running ninja (Lee?).
  • 1 XP: Play an instrument by using chakra adhesion to pluck the strings.
  • 1 XP: Have a spar where your opponent is allowed to call out one limb you can't use, which they can swap at will.
  • 0 XP: Hold a ten minute conversation with Anko without displaying any outward signs of loss of composure. [Note: I flipped a coin on this one]
  • 1 XP: Spend exactly one minute in a shop. Memorise every product being sold. Do not draw attention to yourself.


This update covered 7 days. I didn't get through the second scene, which is a shame because it was pretty interesting. My spoon drawer decided to eat itself, then puke itself back up, then eat itself again and push the half-digested mass down the garbage disposal with a gallon of bleach on top of it just to ensure I didn't get any funny ideas about rescue and reconstruction.

Vote time! What to do now?

Voting ends on Wednesday, February 26, 2020, at 12pm London time.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 329: Vision

"They're hazel, Hazō. Of course they're hazel. Why would you even ask something like that?"

So far, the conversation was going exactly as he'd expected. The effort involved in tearing Mari away from her latest book (The Unsubtle Dagger, one of Jiraiya's earlier works) had not left either of them in the best of moods. The effort involved in moving comfortable furniture into one of the nicer unoccupied huts was no fun either, since he'd had to do all the work while Mari watched with satisfaction (she'd promised that if he forced her into another air dome outside a genuine emergency, the next morning he would wake up in the middle of Bear with nothing but a copy of last week's broadsheet with which to preserve his modesty).

Meanwhile, Hazō was trying to persuade a woman who took pride in maintaining every tiniest facet of her appearance that she didn't know what she looked like.

"What if I told you that a week ago they were green?"

"Then I would worry about your mental state, and whether we need to revisit the topic of the caldera," Mari said, but impatiently rather than murderously. "Have you noticed anyone else's appearance change drastically? Maybe Rock Lee and Akane have turned into twins? Maybe Naruto's grown nine tails? Maybe Kagome's clean-shaven?"

"No need for hyperbole," Hazō said. "I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't have evidence to back it up. Here, I've made a list. There's even an old coded note of Jiraiya's which Kagome thought was evidence of the Tailed Beast Breeding Programme until I turned it upside down for him."

Mari took the list with a familiar long-suffering expression. Her frown grew steadily deeper as she read it. She bit her lip. "Hazō, people's eyes don't change colour. Do I look like an Uchiha to you? I'm not even of a ninja bloodline. My mother was an innkeeper and my father was probably a farmer.

"Besides, even if I did have a Bloodline Limit for some unimaginable reason, where are my amazing special powers? What can Gōketsu Mari do that no one else can?"

What could Gōketsu Mari do that no one else could?

"Mari," Hazō said cautiously. "How many techniques are there out there like Truth Lost in the Fog?"

"None whatsoever," Mari said with a proud smirk. "People who invent new genjutsu are rare enough, and that one was my masterpiece. It doesn't even obey the usual genjutsu laws.

"Well," she added more morosely, "mostly a masterpiece.

"Wait…" she said slowly, "are you implying that the Sage just randomly gave me a Bloodline Limit out of the goodness of his heart, and all it does is make me even better at genjutsu? Hazō, do you realise how improbable and boring that is?"

"I never said anything about Bloodline Limits," Hazō said. "It's just that there are two unique, weird things about you"—Mari raised an eyebrow—"and it would be strange if they weren't at all related."

"Look," Mari said, "in the astronomically unlikely event that my eyes really are changing colour, as opposed to you people looking at them in the wrong light, or making some kind of mistake, or this being a conspiracy to make me doubt my own sanity… I'll give that list some thought." She shoved it into a pocket without looking. "Please let's stop talking about this now."

Hazō suppressed a sigh.

"Just one more question, then. Truth Lost in the Fog has a price, doesn't it? Would you be willing to tell me what it is? It could be one of the puzzle pieces we need."

Mari stared at him for a good long while.

"I'm not a puzzle to be solved, Hazō. No one is.

"But in answer to your question, I don't know for sure. It's not like I went out of my way to create a sacrificial technique. I'm not the kind of person who'd let herself be hurt just in the name of duty. Actually, I've worked hard to avoid getting hurt at all, which in retrospect explains an awful lot about my youth.

"Still, I know what I believe.

"Let me take the long way round on this, so you can appreciate the full weight of it. Plus you'll also get to see one of the invisible layers of this world, though you might well wish you hadn't."

She shifted into a more comfortable sitting position (not upside down on this occasion, though she had been when she was reading).

"What you have to understand, Hazō, is that, all else being equal, in melee combat you can expect a male ninja to beat a kunoichi. It's a simple matter of reach and muscle mass."

Hazō's first thought was of Mum, a jōnin whose abilities he'd been in awe of since he was old enough to understand the concept of combat. Or rather, it was his second thought, after "What does that have to do with anything?"

Aunt Ren was the same, based on her exploits at Nagi Island, even though she was a diplomat by training. Yuno was one with her axe. Tsunade was Tsunade.

Except the Iron Nerve was a melee-specialised Bloodline Limit (or so the ignorant believed). Keiko was terrible in melee (though great at making it not matter), and Tenten shared her style. He wasn't sure whether Ino had physical skills when she wasn't warping people's minds with proprietary ninjutsu or making people's lives miserable with a Shikamaru-designed arsenal, but Ino-Shika-Chō was a balanced team which already had a taijutsu specialist. Tsunade was Tsunade.

But that was a bare handful of examples, nowhere near enough for such a sweeping generalisation even if he included the kunoichi he knew more remotely, like Academy classmates and Gōketsu candidates. If you factored in the complexities of shinobi combat…

"I know," Mari said placatingly, anticipating his train of thought. "All else is rarely equal. There are plenty of physically superior kunoichi and physically inferior men, and more other variables than you can shake Toad the ANBU Captain's dagger at. Sometimes the roles even get reversed. But my point is that sex matters—yes, I know I say that at least once a day; don't get sidetracked. Women have to train harder to beat men who are our equals in every other way. As it happens, there are also noticeably more men than women who train in taijutsu, same way as there are noticeably more women than men who train in infiltration and seduction. Long story short, take a random man and a random woman and put them in melee, and odds are the man will be stronger. That doesn't change just because both of them can punch holes through trees.

"That makes women vulnerable. As someone who came home to a civilian family every night until I didn't, I can tell you that sure, the civilian world is pretty damn awful. Without training to even the odds, raw strength is all that matters. But the flip side is that ninja are a lot better at what they do. Stealth and ambushing are the first things you learn as a small child, and non-lethal incapacitation is one of the basics of combat training. Unless you're a lot stronger than your potential assailant, you are vulnerable. And of course, hope for the kami's grace that there's only one of them."

It was only at this point that it clicked for Hazō what Mari was talking about. He felt a wave of shame at his obliviousness, but also doubled down on "What does that have to do with anything?"

"But even if someone does get… assaulted," Hazō said uncomfortably, "couldn't they just go to the authorities? Even before you think about the violent side, page 37 of My Vision makes it very clear what Yagura thought about violating a ninja's free will without a state-issued licence."

Mari nodded. "That's a natural question. But for common-borns, trying to get the authorities involved is a roll of the dice. Some are sympathetic, while others figure whatever happened can't be a big deal since you're still fit for duty. Some can see you're desperate, and flat-out won't do anything until you grease their palms—or at least there were officials like that in Mist, and I doubt Leaf is a magical world beyond corruption.

"If it's clan on a random common-born, forget it. Clan ninja aren't above the law, but the law won't rush to face off against a clan on your behalf either."

Suddenly, Hazō saw the Konoha Enlightenment Initiative in a new light.

"Not that clan kunoichi have it much better," Mari went on. "It's a clan head's place to represent your interests when you've been wronged. But accepting it's happened at all sullies clan honour, and not every clan head is ready to do it. Then, if the attacker was common-born, that's even more humiliation for the entire clan. Now, the common-born might have an unfortunate accident soon enough, but that's cold comfort for anyone who wants justice and not just revenge. And if it's clan-on-clan, maybe your clan head will make them pay you reparations—again, quietly, off the books—or maybe they'll decide that you're just not worth antagonising the rich and powerful for.

"Oh, and for completeness' sake, any ninja can do whatever they like to any civilian. Goes without saying.

"Every single woman knows all this. None of us ever forget, especially after dark. Especially those of us who are small, and not built for melee combat, and have our own circumstances to remind us."

Hazō stared at her in mute disbelief. Mari had to be exaggerating. There was no way something like this could be happening right under his nose. It wasn't a world he could conceive of living in. If things were that bad, then surely somebody would have said something by now? If fully half of the population knew there was a problem, why would they keep it secret? Surely if people talked about it, surely if everyone knew, it would be easy enough to fix?

No. The more he thought about it, the more he started to think that maybe framing it as "fixing" was missing the point. Everything about humans was easy to fix as long as you found the right approach. It was the fundamental assumption behind Uplift, more so than any of Hazō's attempts to harness natural forces to unnatural ends. And as with Uplift, he couldn't rely on other people to understand what he was doing and why. In fact, comprehension was a side effect to be minimised. It added complexity to the system, an extra factor to be accounted for, and having already selected a goal, there was no benefit to allowing others opportunities to disagree or modify one's plans. Their input would be solicited as and when necessary.

So it was with Mari. The imposition of "justice" and "equality" was already an inherent part of Uplift. Additional details were unnecessary except to aid in optimisation. If he needed more from Mari, he could ask her at any time.

However, she was still talking. Offending her by seemingly dismissing her concerns—which he had already internally committed to addressing, and thus did not need to dwell on further at this time—would be highly counterproductive. She would continue being valuable for some time to come, and besides, "Hazō" was sensitive and kind, and his keywords were easy enough.

"That's horrifying, Mari," he said, speaking in tones of deep shock. "I had no idea. Part of me still wants to think that you're making it up, maybe as part of another genjutsu test you're waiting for me to see through."

What next?

"But I trust you when you say it's true. I promise you, we will change this world. We can and we will make it a place where no one ever has to be afraid, no matter whether they're male or female."

Mari nodded. "Thank you, Hazō. But this wasn't meant to be a lecture about the injustice of the world; that's just a bonus. It was meant to be context so I can answer your original question.

"Did you know that I started out as a taijutsu spec?" she asked seemingly out of nowhere. "I was good at it, too. Terror of the playground. Top marks, because how could I ever get anything else?"

Mari was talented. Her many talents, in particular that of placing human beings where he needed them, were what made her so valuable to Uplift, at least now that her combat skills were no longer useful. An asset that proved worth the effort involved in cultivating her.

"But then I never got a growth spurt. Once I realised that everyone was going to be towering over me for the rest of my life, I had no choice but to rethink my entire career. But even as a genjutsu trainee, I couldn't let go of my past. It's a common failing of mine."

An opening.

"I think you've grown a lot more than you realise," Hazō said. This had been a subject of great importance for her not long ago, and acknowledging it would generate goodwill, as well as potentially aiding in her further development. "I remember what you were like when we first met. You were already trying to make a break with your past then, and ever since, you've been acting in ways that the Heartbreaker couldn't have imagined. I think you're letting go of your past step by step, and learning important lessons along the way."

Mari gave a soft smile. "I wonder. There's so much casual cruelty back there, and other things I don't want to name because I don't want to kill the mood, and I can't help feeling that digging too deep is not the thing I want to do while things are still so… unstable."

Hazō nodded as if understanding. A benefit of profound heart-to-hearts was that there was no right answer expected of him, and so he was free to choose the most instrumentally effective option, as long as he was careful with the phrasing.

Mari continued. "I couldn't let go of the idea that I was supposed to be strong, and untouchable, and now I'd never be either. Now I'd never be able to rise beyond the destiny I'd been condemned to as a small female common-born. And even deeper than that... I'd never be more than what he made me.

"I couldn't bear the idea of that being the rest of my life. Eventually, finally, I rejected it with all my heart.

"In the face of all reason and common sense, I signed up for the women's CQC championship. And then, through a mixture of skills old and new—not many people specialise in taijutsu and seeing through manipulation and recognising genjutsu—and the time-honoured ninja principle that it's not cheating if you don't get caught... I won.

"It was the moment I proved to myself that, no matter what my body was like, no matter what I could and couldn't do, I was strong enough to beat ninja with several times my reach and weight. I hadn't abandoned my path as a warrior—I'd completed it.

"I must have felt triumphant."

Hazō's mind stumbled over the phrase. "Must have?"

"Must have," Mari repeated. "I remember that day as vividly as I remember what I had for breakfast this morning—and with exactly as much passion. It's like drinking water. Like telling a lover you've grown bored of them. Like sharpening your kunai before a mission.

"Thinking about it logically, it must have been one of the most important days of my life, and I must have felt a whole mix of powerful emotions. But I can't remember having them. That memory doesn't mean anything to me, and I might never have thought of it again if you hadn't prompted me. It's just another cupful of water in the jug."

Hazō wasn't sure he understood what it meant for emotion to simply drain out of a memory. Emotions were a primary constituent of human beings, no less so than the memories themselves. They were a keystone in analysing a person's present self and predicting its future. Without them, what was identity?

"Now you're making me wonder, Hazō," Mari said. "How many things must have mattered to me once upon a time that don't matter anymore? How much have I forgotten because at some point it became not worth remembering?

"Should I wish I was the Mari who remembered everything, and cared about everything? Or should I be relieved that she's gone? I remember hearing Keiko learn about the dangers of personality drift, and also the appeal.

"You can't answer that question for me," she said firmly after a second, "so don't try."

She was silent for a while.

"Thanks, Hazō," she said ironically. "You helped me realise that I don't know who I am. Now you're helping me realise that I don't know who I was, either. I hope you're prepared to accept the consequences."

"Which are what, exactly?" Hazō asked warily.

"I haven't decided yet," Mari said. "But let's start with chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate."

Chocolate was an excellent tool for adjusting people's emotions in the desired direction. It was also delicious, and for a moment Hazō felt the need to set aside the complex exigencies of Uplift and go find out where Kagome-sensei had stashed their secure supply this time.

-o-
You have received 2 + 1 XP and lost 1 FP.

Strictly speaking, the conversation didn't take that long time-wise, but it was a good and enjoyable plan so I didn't want to just give it minimum XP.

-o-
The other things have yet to be calculated. It has been a long day, and this update is going up too late to talk things over with @eaglejarl about other details.

-o-
What do you do?

Voting ends on Saturday 29th of February, 9 a.m. New York Time.
 
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Chapter 330: Chibi Chūnin Chat

A fist-sized chunk of granite fell out of the sky almost on top of the design table; civilian aeronautic engineers scattered like pigeons.

The granite vanished before touching the ground, replaced by the teenage head of Clan Gōketsu.

"Good morning," Hazō said calmly. "Please show me what you've got."

The civilian pulled themselves to their feet slowly, visibly working to control their breathing.

"We...we've made some progress, M'Lord," Michiki said. "We, uh, we built a thing that doesn't fall straight down when we drop it off Hokage Monument."

"When we throw it off Hokage Monument," one of the others hurriedly corrected his Design Chief. "They, uh, they all plummet if you just drop them. You need to give them a push."

"Sounds like progress," Hazō said, nodding. "What sort of range are you getting?"

Michiki winced. "Well...it's not quite what it seems," he hedged. "When it travels straight it does quite well but it tends to...wobble."

"Wobble?"

"Um...swerve? A lot? One edge generally drops, and then it whirls all around the sky and goes down. Or it pitches up and falls backwards, with a lot of spinning. "

"Is it a problem with the materials?"

Glances were exchanged. "We've, um, we've been getting the materials from clan suppliers, My Lord," Michiki said, visibly sweating despite the chilly temperature. "I'm sure they're f—"

"We had this conversation," Hazō said sharply. "Be direct and straightforward. Don't conceal things or spin them. Is the problem with the materials?"

Michiki bit his lip. "We've...there has been a shortage of straight wood available, My Lord. It makes it hard to build the wings to the right form."

Hazō pulled out a sheaf of notepaper and scribbled on it with a charcoal stick. "This is an order for Gaku. He's to get you two hundred feet of straight timber. Get with him about what variety and dimensions you need. Tell him to jump you ahead in the queue for the Force Wall sawmill. I don't care what supplier you get it from, Gōketsu or not. If the Gōketsu aren't producing what you need for this or anything else, tell Gaku about the problem so he can fix it, but in the meantime get it from someone else. Anything else I need to know about?"

Michiki glanced at his team, all of whom were standing at rigid attention. "There's an issue with weight, My Lord. Even when it flies straight, the wind spirits aren't strong enough to bear it aloft for long."

"Add that to your requirements for Gaku," Hazō said. "Experiment with different kinds of wood, or maybe try plywood—thin sheets of wood glued together. Bundles of reeds? Light but weak wood used as a framework to support steel rods? Whatever. Find a bridge builder, they'll probably know about lightweight but strong materials. Figure it out."

"Yes, My Lord. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Hazō said, handing the slip of paper to Michiki. "See you later." He raised a macerator seal and fired a chunk of granite back towards the treeline. An instant later he was gone and the granite was dropping to the ground where he'd been.

"You heard our Lord!" Michiki said, rounding on his team. "Get me a list of requirements for that wood!"

o-o-o-o​

"Hazō, good to see you again. Ebisu, always a pleasant surprise," Asuma said, waving the two to their seats and gesturing at the tray of tea.

"Thank you," Hazō said, taking a cup and dropping into his chair.

Ebisu waited until Hazō had made his choice, then took one and bowed deeply to the Hokage. "Thank you, Lord Hokage." He sat down more decorously than Hazō had.

Asuma took the final cup and settled himself, looking back and forth between his two guests. "So, what brings you here today?"

"We had some thoughts about how to fix the school system," Hazō said. "We thought—"

"Enhance the school system!" Ebisu snapped. "There's nothing explicitly wrong with it, we simply found some ways to improve efficiency."

Asuma raised an eyebrow and looked at Hazō. "Is that right?"

Hazō hesitated. "Yes, we had some ideas for ways to improve efficiency," he said, nodding gratitude towards Ebisu.

Asuma looked interested. "Go on?"

"My Lord, before the Collapse, Lord Gōketsu paid me to train six clanless ninja. The results were better than I expected. I don't know if they are typical of clanless as a whole or if Gōketsu simply selected a talented bunch, but by the end of twelve weeks they were tremendously improved. If they are typical, then the clanless represent a tremendous well of untapped potential. We could significantly improve Leaf's power by offering additional training to the clanless."

"Hm," Asuma said. "Interesting. You think there's more to be gained there than by devoting the same effort to the clans?"

"I do, My Lord. Clan ninja already have significant resources devoted to their training, including outside of school hours; they won't get as much out of an hour's extra lesson as a clanless would get."

"I suppose...."

"My Lord, clan children receive training before the Academy and additional tutoring outside of it, plus they live around ninja constantly so they have role models. If clanless had the same opportunities I suspect we would see similar results."

Asuma's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "You're suggesting that clan ninja are no better than clanless?"

"Sir, I'm suggesting that clanless ninja are no worse than clan, at least not innately."

Asuma sipped his tea for a moment. "Ebisu...you were a brilliant teacher even when we were kids, better than most of our teachers at the Academy, and I shall always be grateful for the help you gave me. That said, I don't think the facts are on your side here. Not in general, anyway. There are exceptions, of course, you very much among them, but..." He waved towards one of the stacks of paper on his desk. "The majority of disciplinary problems are from clanless. The majority of academic failures are from clanless. In this year's graduating class, there are only fifteen or twenty clanless in the top third of the class in any subject, out of two hundred. For that matter, how many hours did you spend on remedial tutoring at the Academy, desperately trying to bring students along on their chakra work?"

"Far too many, My Lord."

"What percentage of those students were clan?"

"Virtually none, My Lord. Because the clan children were at home, studying with their parents or their aunts and uncles."

Asuma sat back, digesting those words. "Fair, I suppose. Still. I fully grant that there are exceptions—you yourself, Ebisu, and the Sannin leap to mind—but on average clanless are by necessity going to be less talented than clan. In each generation, those clanless who are talented get absorbed into the clans, either by marriage or by adoption. Talk to the Inuzuka and they'll say that blood will tell. If you keep putting all the runts in one pack, the dogs in that pack are not going to be as large or as strong as the dogs in the pack that had no runts in it."

Ebisu's face became very still.

"Don't give me that look," Asuma said. "You may be clanless, but you are a better teacher than anyone in your generation...or any of the Academy teachers I knew from Dad's generation, actually. You have a better tactical mind than any non-Nara that I can think of offhand. Still, you are an exception to the rule, and you know it."

"As you say, Lord Hokage."

Asuma glowered at him, then gave it up as a bad job. "All right, fine. I don't see it, but I've long since learned to trust you when it comes to questions of how to train most efficiently. You say that the clanless can be just as good as the clan. Fine, prove it. If you can, I'll implement whatever changes you want."

"How would you suggest I do that, Lord Hokage?"

Asuma thought about it for a moment, then rummaged around in the drawers of his desk until he produced a scroll. He placed it on the desk and gestured to it. "That's the Academy's roster for the fifth-years. Two hundred and fifty-nine children, about a third of them clanless. I'll take the top half of the clanless and randomly select...what, twelve? You have charge of their training for the rest of the school year. At the end of the year we'll have a competition between your group and a dozen randomly-selected clan children from that class—the Chūnin Exams in miniature. Your group will be selected from the best of the clanless and they'll be competing against the average of the clan; if your group do at least as well on average as the clan children, you've convinced me and I'll make whatever changes you like."

"What are you grading them on?"

"All the Academy subjects, plus as close as we can get to realistic field capability without endangering them too much."

Ebisu grunted. "What resources do I have?"

"What do you need?"

Ebisu stopped to think about that. "A living compound, first of all. The one I used for the last run won't cut it with children."

"I'll build one on the Gōketsu estate," Hazō said. "To your specifications."

"They'll need to have ninja around 24/7."

"I'll have some of our ninja move into the quarters."

Ebisu shook his head. "No. Your ninja are all bottom the barrel. Cripples, too young, senile. Also, all clanless. We need skilled people."

"Then the kids can live with my family," Hazō said, suppressing a stab of anger at the casual dismissal of his clan's people. "Mari and Kagome are excellent teachers and the rest of us did well at the Chūnin Exams." He smiled slightly. "Especially Keiko. They gave her a ribbon or something."

Ebisu snorted.

"A good thought," Asuma said, "but most of you are leaving for Todoroki Shrine soon." He thought about that for a moment. "Ox, Bull, and Viper are all due for some downtime. I'll put them on mandatory leave and assign them to live in the training compound with orders to take it easy. They aren't to be full-time trainers; this really does need to be R&R for them. They're there to represent the family that would surround a clan child and occasionally provide a little additional help."

"That'll work," Ebisu said. "I'll need the Academy curriculum and texts."

"No problem."

"Funding for sundries, training materials, and expenses."

"Whatever you need," Hazō said. "Gōketsu resources are open to you, same as any clan's resources would be open for training their own children. Also, let's move the kids' parents in with them. I'll assign people to take care of their homes while they're living on the estate, or they can just stay with us permanently if they like." He raised a hand to cut off Asuma's objection. "Not as adoptees. Renters, although I won't start charging until after the test is over."

Asuma nodded acceptance.

"Finally," Hazō said, smiling tightly, "let's do this right. The most common ninja mission is message running, right?"

"In terms of number of missions, probably," Asuma said. "In terms of total mission days it's probably espionage. Why?"

"You wanted to make it as close to real as possible? As part of your mini-Chūnin Exams, let's have field exercise and a final tournament. Twelve kids plus three jōnin is three overstrength genin teams. The Ebisu Twelve and their opposite numbers from the clans each get teamed up with a jōnin—Ebisu's kids get those three ANBU who will have been living with them, the clan kids get whomever Asuma thinks appropriate. First event is all the academic work. Second event, we combine message delivery and espionage. Choose some places in Fire and allied countries. For each location, the kids have to deliver a message and steal some symbolic piece of information that we put there—a scroll or token or something. They're graded on time to completion and the number of tokens they bring back. We'll figure out some other events later."

Asuma laughed. "I like it. We'll need to do some refinement and choose locations where they aren't going to cause us too much trouble. The instructors will be there purely in a protective capacity, making sure the kids don't die in the woods. They can also get graded on how much help they need. Ebisu, that work for you?"

The still-stone-faced teacher grunted and jerked a nod.

Hazō suppressed a feral grin. Children trained in the Gōketsu compound were going to be graded on wilderness survival? The clans could go fuck themselves.

"I think we have a plan," Asuma said. "Anything else?"

Ebisu stood up and bowed. "Thank you, My Lord."

"You're welcome, old friend. For the record, I sincerely hope you're right. If you are, I'll move heaven and earth to make sure no clanless is ever undereducated again."

Ebisu smiled coldly. "You might want to start figuring some slack into next year's budget, My Lord." He saluted snappily, bowed, and left.

"Hazō?" Asuma said, raising a curious eyebrow when his younger petitioner did not move. "Was there something else?"

"Actually, yes," Hazō said. "A couple of things. First, this pilgrimage that the family is going to take to Todoroki Shrine. I wanted to talk to you about Yuno, and about the Porcupine Summoner...."





This update covered half a day. You are still in the Hokage's office. Voting is not open. @Velorien will either continue the plan or open voting at his discretion.

XP AWARD: 2

Brevity XP: 1


It is now about 2pm.
 
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Interlude: The Strange Life of Gōketsu Haru, Part 2
Interlude: The Strange Life of Gōketsu Haru, Part 2

by @eaglejarl

The bar was rowdy until Yamamoto Haru walked through the door. Then it was silent.

On his own, Haru might have drawn a casual glance but no more; he was a brown-haired teenager, his arms and legs a little too long for his body due to an ongoing growth spurt. He wore pants that left his ankles showing because he'd slightly outgrown them and not replaced them yet. A moderately observant person would have noticed that his body language was quiet, calm and self-confident instead of the usual teenage insecurity or bravado. A truly observant person might have noticed his eyes; that person would immediately have remembered business elsewhere.

However harmless or not-harmless he personally might have seemed, his garments had every eye instantly riveted: He was wearing a ninja headband and that was enough to still the bar into complete silence.

Haru walked up to the bar and nodded to the bartender. "I'm looking for Gotoda Kintaro. Get him out here, would you?" The words were calm, unthreatening.

The bartender swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know who that—"

Haru smashed the bar in half with an overhead hammer strike that glowed with chakra.

"I'm looking for Gotoda Kintaro. Get him out here, would you?" The words were calm, unthreatening.

"Sir—"

Haru pivoted and stepped forward to where three men were gathered around one of the battered old wooden tables. His fingers flickered. "Pangolin Clan Technique: Pantokrator's Hammer." A stomping front kick sent the table skirling across the floor until the leading two legs broke; the table flopped forward and flipped, crashing into the wall and narrowly missing two other populated tables. One of the three drinkers from the table Haru had kicked was hurled to the ground when the table went past, but Haru ignored that and casually turned back to the bartender.

"I'm looking for Gotoda Kintaro. Get him out here, would you?" The words were calm, unthreatening.

"Sir, please! He would—"

Haru turned and picked up the man who had been knocked to the floor by the kicked table. He was a good four inches taller than Haru, ten years older, and muscled like a laborer. Despite the winter cold he wore sleeves that reached only to his forearms so that the red dragon tattoo could be seen. None of that mattered; Haru yanked him to his feet by the collar, twisted his right arm into a vicious hammerlock, and got a solid grip in the man's greasy hair, forcing him to arch backwards and offbalance. Haru pivoted three hundred and sixty degrees, stepping forward as he did so that his victim stumbled in a circle before being slammed face-down on a still-standing part of the bar.

"Ninja aren't supposed to hurt civilians," Haru said to the man, who was beginning to struggle uselessly. "Still, we all know that law isn't paid much attention to. Plus, I'm now a High Clan ninja and you're a Yakuza thug, so no one is going to give the slightest shit if I rip your arm off. None of that." The last words were sharp, directed over his shoulder without looking. Everyone in the bar had been stealthily rising to their feet, probably intent on escape; the sharp words and the faintest, probably-imagined touch of a bloody-jawed wolf's howl left everyone frozen in terror. Slowly, they sank nervously back into their chairs.

"I am Gotoda Kintaro. You wanted to see me?"

Haru looked to his right without releasing his hostage.

Gotoda was short, stocky, with silver beginning to creep through his black hair. He had the body of someone who had been a fighter when he was younger, but had spent too much time behind a desk. Old scars on his knuckles, hints of muscles fading from the arms and chest, and an incipient bit of a belly.

"I'd appreciate it if you would release my man," Gotoda said calmly.

Haru considered that for a moment, then dragged the Yakuza enforcer upright and pushed him away, hard. The enforcer stumbled and sprawled to the ground before quickly scrambling out of the way.

"You are Gotoda Kintaro, Second Lieutenant of the Fire Dragon Yakuza family?"

"I am."

"I am Gōketsu Haru, ninja of the Gōketsu clan."

"We know who you are, sir."

"Granny Mayuka was mugged in the marketplace yesterday. Someone jumped her, knocked her down, kicked her until she stopped struggling, and took all the money she was carrying. I want his head, in a box, delivered to the Gōketsu compound by sunset."

Gotoda considered that for a moment. "I apologize most sincerely for the insult, and for the lady's injuries—"

"She's not a lady," Haru interrupted. "She's a goodwife. And a decent person."

The Yakuza officer carefully did not react. "Of course. Please excuse my error. I apologize for her injuries, and the perpetrator will be brought to justice. Did she perhaps get a look at the person in question?"

"There were three of them, all teenagers, dressed in cheap, undyed wool. The one who kicked her was the oldest, probably eighteen or nineteen. He had leather boots with a triangular steel plate on the toes. Brown hair. That was all she had time to notice before he kicked her in the face. The other two were younger and didn't actually strike her, they just egged their leader on. She thinks they called him 'Hisa'."

"Thank you, sir. Your delivery will be made by sundown, you have my word." He paused, then spoke with caution behind his words. "If I may ask...was the goodwife wearing her crest? I'm not aware of this 'Hisa' as a member of my faction, but everyone from the Gray World tends to be very hands-off around anyone wearing a clan symbol."

Haru shrugged. "Not my problem. I'm holding you, Gotoda Kintaro, personally responsible for the safety of Gōketsu civilians. Figure it out."

Gotoda's face remained utter stone as he offered a deep bow. "I understand, sir. I will post people at your gates to escort anyone who wishes to enter Leaf proper."

"Good. A pleasant day to you."

Haru turned and walked out of the bar.

o-o-o-o​

"May I help you, sir?"

"You are Rinzaki Fusazane, leader of this crew, yes?"

Fusazane hesitated. This ninja was unfamiliar; having unfamiliar ninja show up at your work site was typically a bad thing. He didn't look angry, but he was a little too still and blank-faced for comfort. Ninja were safest when they were smiling and being condescending; a little bowing and scraping and everything would be fine. Ninja who were calm and emotionless were unpredictable. Worse, this one was an older teenager; young men were dangerous even when they weren't demigods. Still, this one was wearing a Gōketsu crest so was probably safe. Word was out that their Lord rigidly enforced the civilian protection laws, and there were very few reports of Gōketsu ninja injuring or interfering with civilians.

"I am. How may I help you, My Lord?"

"I'm not a Lord. I'm Gōketsu Haru."

Despite the cold, Fusazane started to sweat. "Sorry, sir. How may I help you?"

The teen looked around at the stone-and-timber building that the crew was halfway through dismantling. "Correct me if I'm wrong; you were hired by the Gōketsu to build a new granary here, yes?"

"Yes, sir? I know we're a little behind schedule, but we need to remove the existing construction first. Many of the walls are proving thicker than we thought and the cement harder, so it's taking longer than we estimated. We aren't charging for the extra time, if that's the issue."

Gōketsu shook his head. "It's not a problem, I just wanted to be sure I was in the right place. Could you clear your crew out for a bit? Go get lunch or something."

Fusazane hesitated. "Sir...forgive me, were you intending to do something related to the project? The Merchant Council rules...I'm sure you're more familiar with them than I am and I hesitate to even mention them, but...I probably just misunderstand them. I'm sure your understanding is better than—"

"I'm not doing anything related to your project," Gōketsu said impatiently. Fusazane flinched at the note of annoyance. Gōketsu noticed and visibly calmed himself. "I'm not doing anything related to your project, I simply need a place to safely practice some new entry techniques."

Entry techniques? What in the name of the Sage was that?

"I see, My L—er, sir." He looked around, hoping against hope that some solution would magically appear. It didn't. "Please give me just a moment, sir."

He bowed deeply, then turned away and ran into the building. "Everyone out!" he shouted. "Out, now! Tools down! There's a ninja who needs the building!"

Everyone had looked around in confusion when he came in, but at the word 'ninja' they dropped whatever they were holding and dove out the nearest door or window. Some of those windows were on the second floor.

"Stop."

Everyone froze, looking towards the ninja who had issued the command. His voice had been calm, decisive and not angry, but it was still a frightening thing to hear a ninja say.

"It's all right," Gōketsu said, sighing. "Get your tools, clear out in an orderly way. Be sure that everyone is clear and you have everything."

Everyone hesitated, then quickly jogged inside. Three minutes later, they were back in front of Gōketsu, now holding hammers, chisels, picks, wheelbarrows, and various personal items.

"I'd like you all to take lunch on the Gōketsu," Gōketsu said. He pulled a pouch off his belt and poured a stack of ryō into his hand, showing it to everyone before dumping it back in the pouch and tossing the pouch to Fusazane. "No need to rush."

"Thank you, sir," Fusazane said. He tucked the pouch away and then looked around vaguely, trying to figure out the next question. "Would an hour be sufficient?" he asked carefully. Clearly, Gōketsu wanted them gone so he could do something illegal. The last thing Fusazane wanted was to be back before the ninja was finished.

Gōketsu shrugged. "Sure. I won't be long." He glanced at the building. "I should mention that I'm doing entry practice. The building will probably take some damage."

"Understood, sir."

"Obviously, I am not doing anything related to your job or in any way violating Merchant Council rules. I am merely pursuing normal ninja training in a way that is compliant with all laws and regulations of Leaf."

"Of course, sir." Fusazane bowed deeply. The crew followed quickly.

"Good. Enjoy your lunch."

"We shall. Thank you very much, sir. It's very kind of you, sir."

The corner of Gōketsu's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "You're welcome. As a thought, and one that is completely unrelated to anything currently happening, you might consider dropping by the Gōketsu estate and speaking to one of our advocates. We've been doing some work with the Merchant Council to expand the category of till'n'fill missions such that Leaf craftsmen can hire ninja for economic work. Things like demolishing buildings to save time with construction."

Fusazane couldn't help smiling. "I'll do that, sir."

"Good." He nodded his head and turned away, jogging to the building and taking up a position beside it, feet spread. His fingers flicked and he cried, "Lightning Element: Fist of the Lightning God!" He clenched his right fist and slammed it down into his left hand. Lightning crashed down in a circle around him and most of the wall exploded inwards. A few fragments of concrete and cement splashed back against him, scratching his face and turning his tunic grey. He leaped through the hole, shouting "Pangolin Clan Technique: Pantokrator's Hammer!"

Fusazane caught himself staring and quickly shook it off. When a ninja wanted you gone, it was time to get gone.

"C'mon," he said to the crew. "Leave the tools and let's go."

They jogged away, carefully not looking back at the sound of part of the roof collapsing behind them.
 
Chapter 331: Scroll Hunt Start

"Hazō?" Asuma said, raising a curious eyebrow when his younger petitioner did not move. "Was there something else?"

"Actually, yes," Hazō said. "A couple of things. First, this pilgrimage that the family is going to take to Todoroki Shrine. I wanted to talk to you about Yuno, and about the Porcupine Summoner. Do you mind if we bring Yuno along? Also, assuming we can find the Porcupine Summoner, do you mind if the Gōketsu adopt her? We have a slot."

Asuma leaned back in his chair, fiddling thoughtfully with his teacup as he pondered.

"Yuno should stay here," he said at last. "I don't want to send her to Isan until your sister is back or pronounced dead, but I also don't want to risk her on an unnecessary mission and I definitely don't want her going anywhere near Mist, where they might seize her and gain the advantage with Isan. I've been remiss in not getting to know her; things have been busy lately, but she's going to be our ambassador to a new ninja village. It's important that she and I connect. She can continue living at the Gōketsu estate for now, but I'll make a point of spending time with her while you're gone.

"As to the Porcupine Summoner, I have no objections at this time. Bringing another Summoner into Leaf is a good thing provided that we can be confident she won't cause trouble or betray us. Bring her to me before you actually do the adoption."

Hazō nodded. "Makes sense. Speaking of additional Summoners, have you considered using the Seventh Path as a trade network?"

"You mean have two Summoners meet on the Seventh Path to physically exchange goods?"

Hazō nodded. "Or simply leave it with their Clan and have the other Clan pick it up. We had good success with that at the Exams—Jiraiya had a contract with a Toad who was stationed at the Pangolin embassy. He and Keiko met to discuss things frequently, and we passed messages back and forth that way." He carefully forbore to mention the Sunset Racer debacle.

Asuma nodded. "It's been done on a small scale. It's problematic for a few reasons; first, until recently Leaf didn't have Summoners for clans that were both allied and adjacent to one another, so it didn't gain much in terms of travel time to send the message via the Seventh Path. Trading with other ninja villages is problematic at best, so even where we had adjacent clans with one of our counterparts it didn't make sense.

"Second, Summoners are rare and powerful. Keeping them at home on what amounts to longer-term till'n'fill missions simply doesn't make sense. It's more important to have them in the field in order to remind other villages of our power." He shrugged in a 'what can you do?' gesture. "In fact, Keiko has been remarkably underused lately. Once she returns I have a variety of things I'll need to dispatch her on." He chuckled. "The fact that it will provide an excellent reason to get Ami out of my hair is a bonus."

"But—"

"Finally, there just isn't that much need for long-distance trade. Nearly everything that Leaf needs is produced here in Fire. The trade that we have with other nations is mostly either luxuries or an excuse for espionage."

Hazō thought about that for a moment, then smiled. "That's a relief. I thought there would be an actual problem."

Asuma raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Well, now we've got Summoners from adjacent clans and we're not at risk of war anymore, so there's no reason to keep the Summoners in the field anymore. They'll be much more useful at home as soon as we set up the trade networks." He gestured expansively. "Think about it! Messages passing from one side of the Elemental Nations to the other in hours, not weeks? Put literally tons of stuff in storage scrolls, move it from here to there with no effort? As far as I know, Leaf has more Summoners than any other village. Now that we don't need to waste time fighting so much, we can be a global hub for transport and take a percentage of every shipment."

Asuma's face went blank. "'Waste time fighting'?"

"Sure. I mean, it's obvious that trade is better than warfare, right? Wouldn't you rather be making money from Lightning and Rock instead of attacking each other?"

The Hokage eyed Hazō coldly, the temperature of the room rising as the faintest hint of aetheric fire danced behind him. "Would I rather be smiling and enriching the people who traitorously attacked us in our moment of grief? The cowards who dropped my childhood friends into a pit from ambush? The people who, within my lifetime, have butchered thousands of Leaf ninja? Those people?"

"Um..."

"Get out of my sight."

o-o-o-o​

"Hazō," Mari said, "explain to me why you're in such a tearing hurry to leave?"

Hazō looked over his shoulder to where Noburi, Akane, and Haru were doing their final gear check. They were being efficient about it, but they weren't hurrying...probably because Hazō hadn't yet told them about his misstep with Asuma. On balance, explanations and recriminations would have taken more time than a lack of urgency. He'd tell them once they made camp tonight.

"I stepped in it with Asuma," he said quietly, leaning closer to Mari. "I was talking about a Summon Path trade network and I didn't think about the grudges he carries towards Rock and Lightning."

Mari's friendly, happy expression didn't change...probably because she was facing Hazō and the rest of the team could see her if they looked over.

"You did what?"

"Look, I wasn't thinking, okay? I don't think it's a long-term problem. He told me to get out of his sight, but nothing beyond that. He didn't even try to flatten me with his jōnin aura."

Mari's smile did not slip, but she did grit her teeth. "Fine. I'll deal with it. In the meantime, you're doing the right thing: Get out of here and stay gone for a couple weeks until things have cooled down." She hugged him, then stepped back and spoke more loudly. "So long, kid. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"And what exactly does that cover?" Noburi teased, walking over as he gave his barrel a final hitch to ensure it was settled. "I mean, based on the stories..."

Mari laughed and booped his nose before he could dodge. "Enough of that! Off you go!"

Hugs and best wishes were exchanged, banter was had, and minutes later the team was on the road.

"So, Hazō," Noburi said as they loped easily along. "What did you do?"

"What? Who says I did anything?"

"We're out the door at four in the afternoon," Akane said, chuckling. "We only start traveling this late when we're running from something."

Haru raised an eyebrow. "You lot spend enough time running away that you actually have protocols?"

"Eh," Noburi said. "Less a protocol, more like a tradition. Anyway, no distracting the guilty. Hazō, fess up."

"I...might have annoyed the Hokage. A little."

The statement was met with groans, an increased pace, and a complete lack of acceptance of his protestations.





Author's Note: Mari was not okay with becoming the Condor Summoner so Hazō did not bring that up.

XP AWARD: Already awarded in Ch330

It is now about 4pm.

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