Chapter 446: Out of Character
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"I think I'll have a word with Yuno afterwards as well," Akane said. "There are some things she might find easier to hear coming from a girl, especially a girl who has her own jealousy issues to work through."
There really was something wonderful about being able to consult Noburi and Akane on social issues. Hazō loved Mari and trusted her enormously, but the thorny path she'd taken to earn her skills meant that every now and again they ran up against a clash of values that left him feeling like she was disturbingly cold and her feeling like he was hopelessly naïve. Meanwhile, Noburi and Akane fully empathised with his desire to do the right thing without cheating or cutting corners, even if Noburi insisted that the real world was more complicated than that, and Akane made suggestions that he didn't have the insight or maturity to implement himself.
This morning, they were the only ones in the Gōketsu kitchen. Keiko (or should she be Kei in the privacy of his head as well?) and Snowflake were at the Nara compound doing Nara things. Kagome-sensei was in his room pretending that he wasn't trying to reverse-engineer Yoshida's privacy seal (privacy seals weren't an unknown concept—Jiraiya had used them in his last messages to Tsunade and Orochimaru—but Leaf's sealmaster culture had never seen the point). Mari was out seeing Ami, something which had apparently happened a few times while he'd been at O'Uzu, and did not bode well for anyone. Haru and Yuno were training outside, and the three newcomers were out on missions. It wasn't going to get more private than this without advanced security measures.
"Jealousy issues?" Hazō asked.
"Let's not get sidetracked," Akane said briskly. "Did you have any other thoughts on Yuno's situation, or are we done?"
"No," Hazō said, "I think that just about covers it. Noburi?"
"I don't know how she'll react," Noburi said, taking another sip of hot chocolate, "but I don't see anything immediately slaughter-inducing. If I'm wrong, wish me luck running the clan."
That might be worth returning to at some point, Hazō noted. It had been the default assumption that Noburi would take over if anything happened to Hazō, at least until the necromancy project was complete. On the other hand, Akane now had a track record as a successful acting clan head, even in the face of disaster, while Noburi's performance as team co-leader in Isan had been lacklustre, to put it kindly. It was also true that Noburi had a lot of ambitions that clan leadership would distract him from, while Akane was already almost too devoted to supporting the Gōketsu. Or would that rob her of the chance to find her own path? There was a lot to think about.
"That just leaves one last thing," Hazō said, "but this one's quite simple. I need to tell Haru to please stop murdering the yakuza. Asuma's noticed, and he isn't happy—not that I'm exactly pleased either. But since Haru can be a little touchy, there's still room to mess it up, so I wanted your opinions on how to do it."
Both of them were giving him blank looks.
"What are you talking about, Hazō?" Akane asked. "Haru hasn't been murdering anyone."
"He has," Hazō said. "Asuma said he'd been murdering yakuza sub-bosses for months. Something about turning them into a Gōketsu intelligence and protection service—which doesn't sound like a bad thing in principle, but it's not how the Gōketsu do things.
"Are you saying he didn't tell you? Even when he was doing it to investigate the bank run?"
Akane's eyes had turned into little Os of horror. Noburi frowned.
"Of course he didn't tell me," Akane said shakily. "Hazō, do you think I'd ever let that happen?"
Hazō grimaced. "Right. I'll be having words with him about that as well. Keeping his clan head in the dark is unacceptable. Keeping his acting clan head in the dark about a project you were working on together is extra unacceptable."
"How long have you known?" Akane asked. Her hand was so tight around the handle of her mug, her knuckles had turned white.
"About three weeks, maybe?" Hazō said. He was getting a sudden and sharp bad feeling. "I'd have got to it sooner, but there was all the Great Seal stuff going on, and then I was away for research…"
"Three weeks?!" Akane nearly shrieked. "During which he could have been killing people?!"
"He probably wasn't," Hazō said reassuringly. "We've given up on our investigation of the bank run, and I'm sure Gaku would've let me know if there were any other incidents involving our civilians. Unless they happened while I was at O'Uzu, I suppose. Was there anything?"
Akane shook her head. "Noburi, get Haru."
"Akane, maybe you should take a minute to—"
"Get Haru."
"Got it." Seeing her expression, Noburi nearly ran out of the kitchen.
"And you." Akane pivoted to look at him. He had never seen this expression on Akane's face before. Not once. Even after he'd revealed her special technique to the rest of Leaf, she'd just been sad, and hurt, and if she'd felt any anger, she'd put it somewhere far out of sight until she was done breaking up with him and he'd gone away.
It wasn't the dark kind of anger that had led Hazō to try to destroy the Hagoromo. It was the polar opposite of the cold, merciless anger that Ami showed when someone hurt or threatened Kei (it would probably be easier this way). It was the blinding light of the sun, and this close up, it did not allow for any shadows to hide in.
"You were going to give him a slap on the wrist," Akane said clearly. "You were going to let it go without consequences. You were going to say please."
"It was the right way to approach it," Hazō insisted. "You know Haru can be volatile. Trying to put pressure on him would only have made him rebel."
"This is not about Haru," Akane said. "I am talking to you, Hazō. You are condoning murder. Killing in self-defence isn't murder. Killing to save a life isn't murder. Killing because there's no other way to survive isn't murder. Every one of those things, every time, is a tragedy that we have to allow in order to keep our village safe. I know that people aren't perfect, and sometimes even doing our best means stretching those definitions. But you promised me a world in which those tragedies would end, not a world in which real murder—taking a life for your own benefit—is fine as long as the Hokage doesn't mind."
"Akane, it's not like I'm fine with it," Hazō began, but at that point Haru walked into the room, wiping the sweat from his face with a sleeve. Noburi wasn't with him.
"Noburi said you wanted to talk about the yakuza?" he asked.
"Haru," Akane asked without preamble, "have you been murdering yakuza?"
"Sure," Haru said casually. "Sorry I didn't tell you. I figured it might make you uncomfortable."
"How many?"
"Six," Haru said after a moment to count. "I guess maybe some more might have died if they were stupid enough to do dangerous yakuza things while they were still injured, but that's on them. I'm not careless enough to give someone fatal injuries by accident."
"How many did you hurt?"
"I didn't really count," Haru said. "A couple of dozen, maybe a little less?" He paused. "Akane, you seem angry. Is something wrong?"
"Yes," Akane said flatly. "Something is wrong. Haru, you murdered people."
"Yakuza," he corrected her. "I killed yakuza. And it's not like I was out there on a killing spree or something. I was working to support the clan. Sure, when the yakuza didn't cooperate, I made them. When that wasn't enough, I killed them and let someone smarter take their place. And it worked like a charm. I kept our civilians safe, and I got as much information as we were going to get about the bank run. Three birds with one stone, and counting."
"Three?" Hazō asked without thinking.
"I killed yakuza," Haru said as if it was obvious. "I mean, I'm not some kind of crusader of justice, but as ways to protect my clan go, getting rid of scum who make their living preying on the vulnerable is a pretty good one."
"Haru, they are people," Akane said. "Don't you dare dehumanise them just because they're criminals."
"They deserved it," Haru exclaimed, an edge of irritation entering his voice. "They'd made their choices. Nobody asked them to be evil. I've had civilians coming up to me to thank me, Akane, saying they were glad that there was finally a ninja who cared enough to do what needed to be done. The yakuza steal. The yakuza kill. The yakuza ruin people with blackmail, and extortion, and loans that you can never repay. They're a threat to our civilians. Isn't protecting civilians when nobody else will the whole point of Uplift?"
"They are civilians," Akane snapped. "Not that it would matter if they weren't. If they're criminals, that means they should be judged by the law. Nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't give you the right to murder people who have their own lives and thoughts and feelings, and a chance for redemption which you're taking away from them. Nothing can give you that right.
"Murder is not Uplift. Murder can never be Uplift. Don't ever suggest that again."
"I did nothing wrong," Haru said, but quietly. Even he couldn't stand tall in the face of an angry Akane.
"You're not the man I thought you were, Haru," Akane said. "And neither are you."
"Akane…" Hazō tried, but he wasn't sure what to say next.
"Haru doesn't understand Uplift," she said to Hazō. "That's not an excuse for murdering people, but at least it's an explanation. But you invented Uplift. You swore to build a world with no more Sunset Racers. You swore to build a world without death because every life is precious. I've dedicated my life to helping you build that world.
"You should be furious that Haru has been taking human lives for convenience's sake and calling it Uplift. I should be the one holding you back, trying to persuade you that he deserves a second chance because everyone does. I shouldn't be watching you give lukewarm disapproval to mass murder just because the people that died weren't part of your ingroup. That's not just unyouthful. It's disgusting."
The words sent a shock through Hazō. Haru, too. Akane had never spoken that way to them before. She'd never spoken that way to anyone.
"You're going to make amends," Akane said. "Haru, you're going to pay the people you hurt and the families of the people you killed. Money won't bring back the loved ones they've lost, but it'll give them one less thing to worry about while they're grieving. Some of the yakuza you killed or crippled will have been the breadwinners in their families.
"Hazō, you're going to take responsibility for your subordinate's actions. If it looks like the Hokage's forced you to lose face, maybe other ninja won't follow Haru's example. If your apology's sincere enough, maybe we won't get a reputation as ruthless killers who adopt some civilians and murder others, depending on which is more useful.
"And once you're done, you're going to send me the list with the victims' names, because I let this happen too, and I need to figure out what I can do for them."
"Send?" Hazō asked dazedly.
"I'll be staying with Ino. Ask Yuno to come see me when you're done with her."
Akane stood up, and paused on her way out to see if either of them had anything else to say.
"Akane, I'm sorry," Hazō said for lack of any better ideas.
"My pain isn't important right now," Akane said. "Goodbye, Hazō, Haru."
As they watched her leave, Haru muttered "I didn't do anything wrong" again, but there wasn't much conviction behind it.
-o-
The last thing Hazō wanted to do right now was anything else ever, but he had to suck it up. He was a clan head, and he was Hazō, and the need to stop his loved ones from hurting each other and themselves hadn't got any less urgent. If anything, it was more so now that the Gōketsu's core of stability and support had stormed out of the compound after taking a few minutes to pack and write down care instructions for the rooftop garden.
"Mari," he greeted his adopted mother/big sister/cousin with the fakest of fake smiles, which he didn't bother applying the Iron Nerve to because she'd just recognise the mismatch with his less perfected body language. "How are you doing?"
"Never better," Mari said. "I brought some of Ami's home-made cookies if you want them."
"If she wants me dead, she can come kill me in person like a proper ninja."
"That was a lie," Mari said. "She asked me to give you a memory test to make sure you hadn't forgotten her while you were away. She also wants to know if you remember her favourite food, her shogi rank, and which of the outfits you've seen her wear looks sexiest."
Hazō rolled his eyes. "Frost-style shaved ice, nobody plays shogi with a Mori, and I'm not falling for that one. So did you have fun?"
"Mmm," Mari said in a disturbingly Ami-like way. "We were workshopping a bunch of new stuff. It was great. Shame she had to leave early to go on an instance of two individuals spending a day together in order to facilitate greater mutual knowledge and familiarity, arranged in anticipation of a potential long-term relationship with Naruto."
Hazō would have choked on his drink if he'd had one.
"She what?!"
Mari shrugged. "I strongly suspect she only called it that to mess with you and Keiko. If I'm wrong and you end up with a new brother-in-law by the transitive property, I'll buy you some apology cheesecake."
"Mari, you're the one who likes cheesecake."
"Details, details. Now, you look like an utterly heartbroken young man who doesn't want to talk about it because he has a list of important things to get through and that's not on it. What's up?"
Mari followed him into the living room, where she took up an upside-down position on the sofa, because he supposed that was just a thing now.
"I wanted to talk about you and Kei," Hazō said, sitting down next to her. "Is that all right?"
Mari sighed. "I'll let you have one conversation because otherwise you'll just bottle up your worries, but it is not my favourite topic in the world right now. What has she told you?"
"You had a fight," Hazō recapped from memory, "over whether to take the safe path and ally with the High Priest, or the riskier path of getting rid of him and installing someone less evil. You told her you'd been a bully. She snapped and said she'd been waiting for an apology for Hidden Swamp, and the fact that you never gave it meant you never accepted responsibility, and therefore never been redeemed. She couldn't accept you as family while that was true. Except she also has no idea how to fix things, because she thinks you can't help manipulating her instead of giving her a sincere apology, and she acknowledges that this is a problem because there's no way for you to prove her wrong.
"Mari, I know you didn't provoke her intentionally. We've talked about your past before—at length—and you know I've long since forgiven you, because I don't believe you're that person anymore. At the same time, maybe Kei's position isn't one hundred percent rational, but I understand where she's coming from. She lost more than any of us because of the Heartbreaker, and unlike the rest of us, she never got closure to help her heal those wounds. I understand why she feels you're the only one who can provide that closure, and why she's angry that you've never done that."
"And did she ever talk to me?" Mari asked, a spark of anger in her green eyes. "Did she ever say, 'Mari, please apologise for what the Heartbreaker did to me?'"
"She didn't," Hazō acknowledged. "But it's also true that of the two of you, you're the one with the emotional intelligence. If anything, it's a sign of respect that she's so sure you would have picked up on her feelings if you didn't have some really strong reason not to.
"I'm not saying you're in the wrong here," he added. "I'm not making any judgements; I just want to help you two to work through this, in whatever way I can."
"This isn't a complicated situation, Hazō," Mari said after a few seconds. "Keiko's decided to assume the worst about me, then painted herself into a corner, and now she's sitting there waiting for someone else to solve the problem she's created. I'm not convinced you can get through to her any more than I can while she's like this, though then again, you can hardly make things worse."
Those were not the words of someone open to healthy conflict resolution any time soon. If he was honest, Hazō didn't have the beginnings of a solution either, not when Mari was being resentful in a way that seemed almost out of character, and the last thing he wanted was to even look like he was taking sides and thereby alienate one of them. Then again, not taking sides could be read as refusing support, or implicitly siding with the other person, and even the Clear Communication Technique could only take him so far if either of them stopped trusting his motivations.
"I don't have any solutions to propose," Hazō said. "If you ever want my help looking for one, or just to talk about this—or, for that matter, about anything else—then I'm here for you. Otherwise, just for now, would you mind giving Kei the space she needs, as a matter of simple courtesy? You two are going to have to talk to each other, sooner or later, but right now it seems like 'later' would be the better bet."
Mari raised an eyebrow. "Courtesy? Does it seem to you that she's been showing anyone courtesy?"
"She's a fifteen-year-old girl who goes out of her way to pre-emptively tell us how awful her social skills are. You're a twentysomething professional who can make men fall to your feet in worship with a single brief conversation. I don't mean to sound patronising, but this seems like the right time for you to be the bigger person."
Mari gave him a sideways look, but ultimately seemed to decide he wasn't making a height joke.
"Thank you for your opinion, Hazō. I'll bear it in mind."
It wasn't much, but he suspected it was the best he was going to get for now.
-o-
Unfortunately, Hazō doubted that Kei was going to turn up at the Gōketsu compound anytime soon, not while she could expect Mari to be there. That meant if he wanted to talk to her, his best bet was to visit the Nara, who at least had a selection of private rooms with excellent green tea and no chance of actual or potential girlfriends dropping by in mid-conversation.
"Yellow," Kei observed as he slid the wooden plaque into place. "Not a casual social call, then."
"Sorry, Kei," Hazō said, and noted the brief, awkward smile that flittered across her lips. "It's not that I haven't missed you and wouldn't love a chance to catch up without the time pressure of our Isan check-ins, but I feel like this is more time-sensitive."
"So what romantic mishap have you found yourself in this time?" Kei asked. "Does the Arachnid Empress grow jealous that you are spending so much time with your other girlfriends while neglecting your lawfully wedded wife? Has Ino decided you are no man if you cannot carry towering mountains of expensive detritus on the urban hikes that she refers to as clothes shopping trips? Has Akane taken exception to some perfectly reasonable policy decision such as selling the clan out to Orochimaru without consulting anyone, and departed in high dudgeon over your lack of moral fibre?"
"Uh."
Kei gave him a look of mixed surprise, sympathy, and amusement. "Which one?"
"The Akane thing," Hazō admitted. "But it wasn't anything to do with Orochimaru. That was one time!"
"What did you do?" Kei asked with surprising gentleness.
"Haru has been murdering yakuza for months as part of some sort of master plan to turn them into a Gōketsu intelligence and protection agency," Hazō said. "Asuma only told me three weeks ago, and I've been too busy to deal with it until now. Turns out Akane didn't know, and she feels I didn't come down hard enough on Haru for it. She's gone off to stay with Ino."
"How hard did you come down on him?" Kei asked.
"I told him to please stop murdering yakuza. Or I was going to, anyway, but I was sanity-checking the plan with Noburi and Akane first, so that was when she found out. Neither of us—me and Haru, that is; Noburi got out while the going was good—were in the mood to get back to the subject after she left."
A flicker of some emotion he couldn't identify passed behind Kei's eyes, then was gone.
"Hazō," she said in an even voice, "I would like to state up front that I fully agree with Akane's position. As a clan head who unhesitatingly executed one of your own for non-lethally abusing children, it is shockingly hypocritical that you would permit Haru's murder of innocent civilians—or at least, civilians who had not given him cause and were not his to judge—to go without consequence. Were it one of mine, I would recommend execution to Shikamaru, and lighten that sentence only if faced with a persuasive argument. I will not claim that the lives of a handful of predators are a greater boon to the world than the life of a single Nara, but to treat the systematic killing of civilians as a mere misdemeanour would be to make shallow things of my Uplift ideals. Can someone who suspends their ideals when they are inconvenient be trusted to make the world a better place, much less inspire others to do so?
"Of course," she added, "there is every possibility that Shikamaru would refuse, since his first loyalty is to the Nara rather than to Uplift, and then there would be dramatic conflict. Nevertheless, this is how I feel."
She paused.
"With all this said, I recognise that you have come to me for help with a personal issue unrelated to my specialisation, an exceedingly rare act by which I am honoured. It is thus incumbent on me to assist you with handling the consequences of your actions, as you have done more than a few times with mine."
Hazō had to admit that it would not in a thousand years have occurred to him to come to Kei for advice like this. However, it would be very difficult to say that after what she'd just said, and even if he did, it would hardly leave her in a receptive mood for the conversation he'd actually planned.
"I appreciate that, Kei," he tried, "but really, I know the Frozen Skein isn't great with socials, and this is pretty out of left field anyway, and you must have already used up your Snowflake chakra for the day."
"I have been taking lessons in advanced contingency planning from Ami since my return," Kei said. "It is an invaluable Mori tool I wish I had made the effort to investigate earlier. I regret to say that you alienating Akane with an act you consider pragmatic and she considers immoral was near the top of the list of crises I felt it best to equip myself for, though I admit I did not expect to be involved directly."
Hazō wanted to feel insulted, but the fact that he'd fully lived down to her expectations made that difficult.
"Does that mean you have some idea of what I should do?"
"I am still Nara Kei," she reminded him, "and indeed, if the Frozen Skein were a tool versatile enough to compensate for my social ineptitude, rest assured Ami would already rule the world, rather than it merely being a work in progress.
"With that said, I imagine the most effective way of ameliorating the situation would be simply to surrender the decision of how to punish Haru to her, or frame it as a consultation if you believe that would come across as abrogation of responsibility. You have betrayed our shared ideals, and I can think of few better displays of contrition than to submit to the guidance of the Gōketsu moral exemplar, even at the price of your agency. I doubt this alone will be sufficient to restore her trust, but the Akane I know would not reject a petitioner seeking aid or advice, be she ever so hostile. Once she recognises the sincerity of your intention to redeem yourself, you will surely be able to use the opening for reconciliation in better ways than anything I can suggest."
She hesitated, taking a sip of tea as if buying time to decide what to say next.
"I regret that I have not brought a post-interaction survey form, but I would nonetheless appreciate feedback. I am new to this business of offering advice, and cannot calibrate without data."
Hazō laughed. "You did fine, Kei. I think maybe all the condemnation isn't the best way to open when you think someone needs your help, but on the other hand, I appreciate you being honest about your feelings with me. It certainly beats the alternative."
"I believe the technical term is 'crippling lack of tact'," Kei said, "but your appreciation is… appreciated."
"No, I mean it," Hazō said. "I'm glad you're getting more comfortable with expressing your feelings. It's a real sign of progress."
"Progress."
"I didn't mean that in a condescending way," Hazō said quickly. "I just genuinely want to congratulate you."
"Oh." Kei looked down. "Well… thank you, Hazō."
"I've been thinking about your conflict with Mari," Hazō went on, "and I know I've basically covered what I think about it, but now you're back, I think it might be a good time to go over things again.
"I do support your desire for accountability, Kei. We lost everything because of Hidden Swamp, and most of the people involved lost their lives. I can see where it would feel wrong to you that Mari's only ever benefited from what she did, and never had to face any consequences. Certainly, if I saw somebody else, right now, pulling the kind of thing she did, I don't think I'd be inclined to be merciful."
"I do not claim this to be an issue of raw justice, Hazō," Kei said. "I am not such a hypocrite as to wield the Implements of Judgement while the blood of an entire race is on my hands. My culpability for carelessly enabling the Condor genocide, and then for all the time I spent knowingly continuing to support it, is an issue I continue to struggle with, as I am sure you do in your own way. From a consequentialist perspective, my sins are far worse than hers.
"However, I am Mari's direct victim, and a representative member of the class of her direct victims. There is a case to be made that it would be unethical for me not to call her to account. Even then, were I to believe in her vaunted redemption, I imagine I would come to forgive her as you have, and leave the ghosts of our fellow victims to howl impotently from the depths. I am selfish, and easily led astray by my feelings.
"But I do not. Mari is far beyond me in insight, wisdom, and self-awareness, yet she does nothing but luxuriate in the rewards she has found at the end of her path—a loving family, power and influence beyond anything a commonborn could aspire to, and a life of safety and comfort unlike that of any other able-bodied jōnin on the continent—without a second's thought for those she has sacrificed along the way. Without a second's thought for me. What a convenient love it is that shares in the good times and provides whatever support is easy to provide, yet feels no need to reach out when doing so would have a cost."
"I'm not saying you don't have the right to hold Mari accountable," Hazō said. "But I don't necessarily condone vengeance as a way to do it. Even if, right now, you don't consider her family, I think you should think very carefully about whether that's a path you want to go down."
"Why?" Kei asked. "What is the alternative to vengeance? It would hardly be meaningful for the proper authority, the Mizukage, to judge her for her crimes. Or at least, it would not for me—for the others she kidnapped from their homes, I imagine it would be the natural default. The point, of course, is moot. Mari is above judgement from the Mizukage for as long as the Leaf-Mist alliance endures, and the Hokage has no reason to care about her crimes, for all that his father was the one to order Hidden Swamp massacred in the first place.
"The alternative would be for me to dispense justice myself—which is what we call vengeance, for I have neither moral nor legal authority with which to claim that my punishment would be fair and proportionate to the crime.
"None of which would be necessary were she to take charge of her own atonement, in terms of both reform and restitution. However, she did not so much as acknowledge her crimes until driven to it by unrelated despair a year and a half later, and another year since, she has not taken the most basic steps towards addressing them. What options, then, am I left with?"
Hazō tried hard to pretend that the idea of vengeance being sought by Kei, the girl whose list of assets started from the T&I catalogues available on request from the main office, proceeded through the KEI and the Ino-Shika-Chō, and ended with Ami, was not utterly terrifying.
"What specifically do you want, Kei?" he asked, to try to get her mind to shift tracks as much as anything. "Is your endgame here for Mari to experience the suffering she inflicted upon others? To feel remorse? What would a world in which this conflict is resolved to your satisfaction look like?"
"I do not know," Kei admitted. "I love Mari. This has not changed, in the same way that you do not cease to be important to me whenever you hurt my feelings or violate my agency. I do not wish her to suffer, even at the same time as I feel it would be just and proper for her to experience the same pain that she has inflicted on me and others.
"But is that even possible? What amount of pain would suffice to serve as equivalent to a death, to dozens of deaths? How does one replicate the pain of so many torn from their homes and families, forced to betray their village, and ultimately abandoned to the merciless hands of the hunter-nin? Or the pain of those left behind? If one were to distil all of that suffering into a single cup, it would certainly kill any who drank of it.
"I have never visited the Condor lands, Hazō. I do not know if I can. I tell myself hollow lies, that, as the Pangolin Summoner, the Condors were my enemies, that I was merely accelerating the inevitable, that how the Pangolins used the skytowers is no more my concern than how we use the Pangolin ninjutsu is theirs… Were I to travel to the place where all those lies break down, I do not know if I would come back. Can I, then, expect Mari to feel the amount of remorse appropriate to her crimes, for which there can be no mitigating circumstance and no excuse, and survive? If she did not, would that be justice?
"I simply do not know, Hazō. The world would not be a better place with Mari gone. I do not wish her gone. I wish for the happiness we had before she undid the seal in order to use me as a tool for self-flagellation. But I cannot lie to myself about what I know, and I can think of no consequences for her that would be fair, yet preserve her physical and mental health after she destroyed that of so many others."
After that, they simply sat in silence, slowly drinking green tea.
-o-
And finally, there was Gōketsu Yuno, the last stop on Hazō' caravan journey of not-really-fixing-things-but-hopefully-not-making-them-worse. She was still training outside, which was actually quite remarkable since it was now getting dark. The traitorous Noburi sat on a nearby log, blatantly ogling.
Not that Hazō could blame him. Yuno was very similar to Akane in build, albeit with the more developed upper body of an axewoman, and noticeably better-endowed—
No. Nonono. He was not going to ogle his sister-in-law. Especially his homicidal sister-in-law. Especially while her husband was watching. Besides, he was far from done ogling Ino, and a man had to have his priorities.
"Hey, Yuno," he called out. "Mind if I have a word?"
Noburi, already briefed, rose from his seat. "I'm going to go get you some snacks, Yuno. Kagome-style sugared chicken eyeballs all right with you?"
"Yes, please!"
Yuno rested Satsuko against a log, then dipped a cloth in a nearby barrel, wrung it out, and used it to wipe herself down in her usual ritual sequence with a strangely meaningful smile.
After a second, Hazō recognised it as Noburi's barrel, as in the one filled with all his chakra and practically an extension of his body. He had no idea what the implications were in terms of physical intimacy, but he was pretty sure they were mindboggling.
Also, he had just conceptualised Noburi's chakra water as a bodily fluid, and he desperately needed to undo that before he next needed a refill.
"What's going on, Hazō?" Yuno asked, sitting down on the log, legs crossed.
Hazō joined her. "I just wanted to make sure you're OK. I'm sorry about the banishment. You know I've gone through something not that different, so I get what it means to be separated from the people and culture you know. Still, we all found a new home here, and I hope it becomes a home for you too. I want you to remember that we're your family now, and always will be."
Yuno gave him a thoughtful, slightly forlorn look. "I'm very impressed if you understand how I feel, Hazō, because I don't. I'll never see any of them again. I'll never train with any of them again. I won't see the contempt in their eyes. I won't see the rituals that make life make sense. I only got to kill one of them, and now I won't get to kill any more."
Yes, it was fair to say that Hazō didn't understand how Yuno felt. Maybe he'd overstepped.
"I fantasised about how I'd do it, you know," Yuno said, staring up at the darkening sky with no sense of transgression in her words. "I'd kill every one a different way. It might not seem that way to you in Leaf, but five hundred is a lot of people. By the end, I had to ask Satsuko for ideas. I won't ever do that now. I just have to be happy I got the worst of them, even if it was over so quickly."
"Would you really have done it?" Hazō asked, relying on the Iron Nerve to hide his shiver. "Killed all five hundred of them, I mean?"
"I don't know," Yuno said after a second. "I always wanted to, but I think once I'd started, I wouldn't be able to stop, and something inside me said that wasn't OK. I don't know why. It was hard. Satsuko didn't understand, and there wasn't really anyone else I could ask.
"I miss everything making sense," she said. "Here in Leaf, you have to make choices all the time, and there's no way of knowing which ones are right and wrong. People have always told me that I don't understand right and wrong because I'm a cursed child, and I can't tell if they were right either.
"I don't miss the way I lived. People didn't want to be around me, and I didn't want to make them upset by being around them anyway, so I spent most of my time training, and then when I was tired, I'd practice cooking, and embroidery, and weasel painting, and flower arrangement, and all the other things a good wife is supposed to know. And sleep, I guess, but I don't need much sleep. Oh, but sometimes we went on chakra beast hunts, and those were wonderful. They only invited me along for the really tough chakra beasts, because then either it would die or I would die and it would be good for the village either way, but they never actually tried to stab me in the back, so I could just relax and have fun. I'm really excited about being allowed to sign up for missions now I'm not needed for Isan anymore. There's one coming up on Tuesday where the Amori need a pack of recursive gnus cleared out of their ancestral lands, and there's going to be a big team, and I was going to ask Noburi to come but his rank's not high enough, and I can't wait to kill things without anyone acting like it makes me a murderer-in-waiting!"
Hazō nodded. "Because that's definitely not a thing that you are."
"I'd never murder anybody without a good reason," Yuno said in tones of agreement. "Apparently, once I've served Leaf a bit longer I can apply to be a hunter-nin, and then I'll be allowed to go hunt people instead of chakra beasts, but it won't be murder because they're evil. I'd never have opportunities like that back ho—back in Isan."
"Er, right." Hazō decided to move on quickly before he showed anything he was thinking whatsoever and the friendly girl with a very sharp axe and no respect for human life got offended.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about Kei," he said. "I know your beliefs about the Pangolin Summoner are important to you, and I don't mean to patronise you or anything. But I don't think there's any doubt that Kei herself would rather you treat her as a peer than an idol. She's never been comfortable with the reverence your people show her, even when she was using it to try to help Isan politically."
"But she's the Pangolin Summoner," Yuno said. "Ui chose her to carry his scroll. Even Elder Takahashi said so, and he didn't want people to believe in her."
"Maybe he did," Hazō said. "Honestly, I have no idea where I am with the ancestors or the Will of Fire or anything myself, so I'm in no position to question your religious beliefs. But doesn't what Kei herself wants matter as well? The two of you have a lot in common, and I think maybe you could be good friends, but not if what you do is worship her from a distance."
Yuno's eyes lit up. "You really think we could be friends? Me and the Pangolin Summoner?"
Hazō gave her a pointed look.
"Me and Kei?"
"Sure," Hazō said, quietly hoping that he wasn't in the process of guiding Yuno into the Kei polycule.
"I could have a second friend," Yuno said in tones of awe.
That took Hazō aback. "Are you saying you don't see the rest of us as friends?"
"I know we're not friends," Yuno said. "Akane has been my friend since the first time you came to Isan, and honestly, I still don't understand why, but the rest of you have been nice to me because of Noburi, haven't you? Please don't get me wrong, I really do appreciate it. You treat me better than anyone in Isan ever did, and a lot of the time, you even act like I'm one of you. I would be happy if I could live like this forever."
Hazō was at a loss. Maybe it would be a bit presumptuous to unilaterally call Yuno his friend, but Noburi's relationship with Yuno had nothing to do with Hazō's relationship with Yuno. Surely everyone else felt the same way? Why would anyone ever start with the opposite assumption?
"Yuno," he said, "I don't act nice to you because of Noburi. I act nice to you because I like you, and because you're family. Even if something happened to Noburi, I'd still act nice to you. I'd like to be your friend too, if you're OK with that, and I don't want to speak for anyone else, but I'm sure they aren't just nice to you because of Noburi either."
Yuno looked at him in obvious confusion. "But why would you like me?"
"I'm sorry?"
"I'm not good at being a person," she elaborated, her gaze falling all the way down to her feet. "When I say things that feel natural to me, people get scared or angry or upset, and I don't know why. When I introduce them to my best friend, they get all uncomfortable and make excuses to leave. When I try to show that I'm friendly by offering to kill things for them, they don't like it, even though I'm a ninja and it's what ninja do—but it's not like anyone wants me to embroider or paint weasels for them either. In Isan, I assumed people treated me that way because they thought I was cursed. But a lot of people in Leaf react the same way, even when I go out of my way to try to look them in the eyes and not pay attention to which side their buttons are on. So maybe it's just me. That's why I'm not upset if you don't like me. Really. Noburi likes me, and Akane likes me, and you think Kei might like me, and that's more than enough."
This was too heavy for an emotionally-drained clan head this late in the day. He wished Akane was here. She was always better at this kind of thing.
Akane was gone.
"Yuno," he said, "having… limited… social skills doesn't make you unlikeable. If you've listened to anything Kei says, you know she thinks she's bad at talking to people and making them like her, but do you think she's unlikeable?"
"Of course not."
"I'm seeing the same thing here. I like you because you're a nice person with many good qualities. Anybody who gets to know you will find out you're a nice person with many good qualities. If your problem is just bad first impressions, that's fixable. Believe me, I wasn't the smooth-talking master of charisma you see before you back when Mari first started coaching me."
"Really?"
"Really. And as luck would have it, Mari happens to live in this very compound. You may have glimpsed her coming down for breakfast with the rest of us every morning, at least when she's not sleeping in after a night spent doing Sage-knows-what. You are likeable, and we can work on getting other people to see it if that's what you want to do."
Yuno reached for Satsuko as if for reassurance. She kept a hand on the haft, but didn't pick her up.
"I want to believe you," she said eventually. "But it's not like I haven't seen you and the others looking at me the same way sometimes, even Noburi. Akane's the only one who doesn't, but maybe she's just better at hiding it.
"I know that even if I try, I don't belong here. In Isan, that was their fault for being horrible people, but here it can only be mine."
Far, far too heavy. In theory, this kind of conversation where he got to the bottom of people's problems and fixed them before they grew out of control was the entire point of today's list. In practice, Hazō was weary, because this day was also the definition of starting off on the wrong foot. He didn't have the emotional energy to undo the tangle that was Yuno's self-perception, and if he kept going, it was a certainty that he'd say the wrong thing and make matters worse.
Would the Clear Communication Technique save him? It was certainly worth a shot, and it beat trying to navigate the subtleties of social exchange in his current state.
"Yuno," he said, "this conversation is very important to me, and I would like to continue it with you soon, but right now I am really tired and need to go away and rest." And beat himself up about Akane. "Also, Akane asked me to tell you to go see her at the Yamanaka compound, so I suggest you do that before it gets too late, unless you're too tired yourself."
"Why is she at the Yamanaka compound?"
"I'm sure she'll tell you," Hazō said. He wondered if Yuno would be casual about Haru's instrumental murders, or homicidal at his perceived betrayal. Or was it doing her a disservice to place all her predicted responses on that axis?
"OK," Yuno said. "Thank you for talking to me, Hazō."
With that, she left, Satsuko in hand. Hazō watched her walk away (again, explicitly not ogling her because that way only bad things lay) as he tried to decide whether today had been a net gain or loss.
Sadly, even the sugared chicken eyeballs weren't up to the task of seeing into his loved ones' hearts.
-o-
You have received 3 + 1 + 1 = 5 XP. Fun-to-write XP included.
-o-
Noburi, aware that he won't be impressing any girls with his humongous dragon anytime soon if he wants to live, has chosen to follow the more celibate path of the next Tsunade (little does he know). He looks forward to working with Dr Yakushi again as soon as his old mentor has the time to spare.
Noburi is the first person in history to level Ami's Ultimate Buster Bomb. Even Ami allegedly doesn't know what powers get unlocked at the technique's higher levels.
All other training plans have also been implemented, though the rocket jump stunts took some persuading.
-o-
What do you do?
Voting closes on Saturday 10th of July, 1 p.m. New York time.
