Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
i wonder how difficult making something similar to the
Special sealing sage weapons
same with
Samehada and the other living weapons
Shoganai - An Ignoramus SI in Naruto
- Thread starter industrious
- Start date
- Fantasy
-
- Tags
- naruto self insert
i wonder how difficult making something similar to the
same with
Modus_Tollens
SCREAMING.
- Location
- ALSO SCREAMING.
There are things called I've heard called universal instrumental goals. Pretty much things that, while themselves giving you a whole mess of nothin', make pretty much anything else in your life easier. Its like how money doesn't buy happiness but there is barely a thing in the world that it doesn't at least facilitate at least in some respect. Its a convenient and versatile tool.
Being Jonin is like that. It exists to give him options that suck a tiny bit less and there is no circumstance where being a Jonin, by itself, would actually hurt.
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
While I agree with your first point about the relative ceilings for going all in on Ninja Weapon Magic versus the other Magics, Ninja Weapon Magic can absolutely profit from both Ninja Eye Magic and Ninja Demon Friend Magic. Sure, Naruto doesn't use weapons much at all (that he doesn't make out of his own chakra) but Sasuke absolutely uses weapons with his Sharingan, as do many other Uchiha (Tobi and Madara being prominent examples). Although the "Magic Magic" stuff like Susanoo and Tsukuyomi far outstrip Ninja Weapon Magic at higher echelons, clever use of weapons is something that is still extremely powerful but unfortunately overlooked quite a bit. Most of the higher-tier weapon users tend to do something else, like the aforementioned Madara (and his gunbai).
I fear this got away from me a bit, but I do agree that using only Ninja Weapon Magic falls off pretty quick, but even then Tenten uses stuff like her scroll and her sealing, though I don't know how much of that she has by this point in the fic. With her weapons and her sealing, she was a pretty solid Chunin in canon. It's not unfeasible for her to do well while specializing in weapons, though she'd probably want to find something else, too.
EDIT: Krazyfan1 brings up a really good point with the Sage weapons and the Seven Swords of the Mist but I think using things like those (Second Hokage's lightning blade, Kusanagi, Sword of Totsuka etc) would be mislabeled as simple Ninja Weapon Magic the same way a regular kunai or a regular bo staff are. I'd call Kisame a "swordsman", because Samehada is (technically) a sword and he was trained to use it as such, but I wouldn't call him a "Ninja Weapon Magic" user like Tenten because a) AFAIK he only uses Samehada once he has it, b) Samehada is such a special sword that I think it transcends being a simple "ninja weapon", and c) he also uses Water Jutsu and is quite possibly more famed for that than he is for his swordsmanship ("Tailless Tailed Beast" and all). I think I'm mischaracterizing Krazyfan1's point (sorry if I am); yeah, I definitely think Tenten could make a special weapon, but I'm not sure it would be "Ninja Weapon Magic" the way Carrington seems to be talking about it.
Last edited:
- Location
- Oblivion
Tenten had a chance to find something else in Canon.
But she gave up when it turned out to be too much work.
In case you're wondering, I'm talking about her original drive to become a medic like Tsunade. That she gave up on Because she didn't have the Chakra control for it.
19. Carry On, Wayward Son
Chapter Nineteen - Carry On, Wayward Son
Life was getting busy once more, but this next little errand was honestly something I should have done days ago.
Kotabe Ironworks probably had a waiting list the size of my forearm at this point - especially if the rumors that we were going to strike back against Hidden Sand "once the Hokage recovered" (read: once She became the new Hokage) were true. While they were slightly more artisanal than the other foundries, I had no doubt that they could just churn out equipment with the rest of them when we went to war.
And I'd lost my Fairbairn–Sykes-inspired dagger in the Chunin Exams attack. I was not going back to a standard issue kunai if I had another option, especially now that I was a chunin, dammit. Hopefully, even being at the back of the queue wouldn't be too bad….
…Ah, fuck, who was I kidding? In all likelihood, I'd be going into the desert with standard issue gear, because I was too caught up in my internal angst to get ahead of the curve.
"Ah, Honored Customer," the woman behind the counter bowed politely at me. "You have another commission for us?"
"Yes," I gave her my most charming business smile. "I understand that you must be busy, so-"
"-apologies," she smoothly interrupted me. "But would the honored customer mind waiting in our reception area? I can prepare a cup of matcha while someone sees to you."
…Okay, I was not expecting that.
The shopkeeper led me through the storefront, past the small stockroom, and into a small break room area - the furnishings were old, but well maintained, and the couch I was seated at comfortably well-broken in.
"Here you, Honored Customer," she informed me, before departing.
Curiouser and curiouser. I took a sip of the slightly steaming liquid -
-oh, damn.
This was some fine matcha. Earthy, a slight nuttiness, bright.
What the fuck was going on?
I contemplated getting the fuck out because clearly this was the setup for some kind of bizarre hit-job when a grey-haired man with a wiry build and carbon ash perfumed onto his skin despite his obvious best efforts entered the break room.
"I'm so sorry to keep Senju-ouji waiting," the old man bowed, deeply. "My name is Kotabe Teitetsu; my father founded the ironworks years ago. Please - come to my office!"
What the fuck was happening.
"Of course," I bowed in turn, blood simmering at the title he'd thrown at my feet. "My name is Uzumaki Nobunaga. It is a pleasure to meet you, Kotabe-sama."
He gave me a nervous chuckle. "You honor me, too much… Uzumaki-sama."
Still waaaaay too creepy. This man owned a pretty substantial business - there was no reason for him to throw around actual honorifics for a jumped-up street rat like me, even if I was now a chunin. The village was lousy with chunin; we probably made up most of his customers, and I doubted that he gave them the good matcha or an invitation to his office.
Teitetsu's office was starkly utilitarian - neatly stacked piles of paper on his desk, which was made of a thin slab of what looked to be scrap metal, and all of the seats were little more than folding chairs.
"I try to spend as little time here as I can," he apologized. "My expertise is on the forge floor."
"Please, sir," I said, as gently as possible. "This is all your domain. I still do not know why I am even here."
He colored slightly at my remark, as if I'd rebuked him. The fuck - the guy probably had kids my age. "Right," he chuckled. "Of course."
"Kotabe Ironworks," he told me, gesturing to a kunai encased in a glass frame, hanging on the wall, "is nearly as old as the village itself - we were founded seven years after the the Founding thanks to the generosity of your great-grandfather: the first Hokage himself!"
Teitetsu blinked back a tear. "Seventy ryou for an anvil," he informed me. "And thirty for the steel. My father brought the hammer. That was our beginning. And now-" his hands broadened, as if to encompass the entirety of the building we stood in.
"The loan has long since been paid back," he continued. "But there is a debt of honor between my family than yours, and that- that, young Uzumaki-sama, can never be repaid."
Throughout his entire monologue, I'd stayed very very quiet and very very still.
It was one thing to know that your mother was one of the Legendary Sannin.
It was quite another to have the implications of that slap you in the face.
"Now, then," he moved back to his desk, and opened a small folder - where I saw written notes from my first meeting with one of the men at the Ironworks. "You had some requests regarding your dagger-"
What followed was the most bizarre negotiation I'd ever underwent.
Kotabe Teitetsu wanted to grant every request that I'd made when commissioning that first dagger, including the royalty. He wanted to give me free Fairbairn–Sykes daggers, as many as I wanted, forever. He wanted nothing more than to repay the family that had given his family a chance.
And I couldn't let him do it.
I just… couldn't.
Even if part of me really, really wanted that money, I knew I couldn't.
The businessman wanted to give me money.
The poor chunin tried to refuse.
Eventually, we came to a compromise: I would receive a free knife (now officially termed a "Nobunaga"-style knife) every month, in perpetuity; any additional knives would be provided at cost. For the design, I would receive a royalty of half a percentage point on sales - which would be donated to the villages' orphanage fund; none of that money would ever touch my accounts.
I had a debt of honor of my own to pay, had been my explanation.
"...You are a credit to your family, Uzumaki-ouji," Teitetsu informed me, taking my hands between his. "Truly, you are."
The fumes from the foundry below blurring my vision, I could only nod, as he reached into his desk, and withdrew the first of the promised daggers.
"No no no no no no no!"
Shimbe snatched the brush right out of my hands, snapped the bamboo rod in two over his knee, and hurled it against the wall.
"What are you doing?" he demanded. "What is that? What was that? What… why… how… just…."
Sadly, this was not all that unusual when it came to lessons from the tokubetsu jonin. The man was a perfectionist, through and through.
"Sensei," I said, biting back the volley of insults, retorts, and general bile that was bubbling up beneath the surface. "You asked me to write my name."
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "But where's the artistry! The panache! The… the… where is it?!"
I pointed at the characters.
"It's… my name."
His hands were covering his eyes, as he let out a series of incredibly pained noises.
"I thought I was imagining things," he sighed, all-too dramatically. "You're young, you haven't found your footing yet - surely something will come of you! Of course, I thought! The first thing you ever learned to bring into existence!"
He pointed at the kanji the way a father pointed at a pile of shit on the living room rug… by a five year old.
"What the actual fuck is this?!" he demanded.
"What's wrong with it!" I snapped, losing perhaps a bit of my patience.
"Everything!" he let out a slightly crazed titter. "Do you have no soul, boy?"
Wow. Rude.
"I've seen Jiraiya's handwriting. He's sloppy too!"
Crack.
His hands slapped against the wood of the low table. His eyes bore into mine.
"Jiraiya-sama," he stressed. "is an artist. A Shodo Master. His brushwork is wild and untamed - a departure from traditional aesthetics in a free-flowing script that evokes the passion and transcendental beauty of the world!"
He flicked his wrist, and my paper slid off the desk.
"You," he told me shortly. "Are just bad."
Pushing off the table, he got back up once more. "Sealcraft," he continued, "stems from the brush. And if you cannot wield the instrument with the control it demands, then you cannot learn the trade. Go. I cannot teach you."
I leapt to my feet, snarling. "Bullshit."
He whirled to face me. "I beg your pardon?"
"Bull. Shit." I repeated. "Kibaku Fuda are standard equipment, you pretentious jackass. Yeah - you're a master, sensei, and I respect the fuck out of you for your skills - but these are one-and-done items. You can't tell me that each one is a singular work of art, folded ten thousand times until it can cut through a tank."
His eyes narrowed at my last sentence, and he shook his head. "Do you have any idea what the efficiency loss is between a brushwork seal and a woodblock is? And wood is the best chakra conductor there is!"
"No it isn't," I shot back.
Shinbe threw his hands up. "Okay, genius, you got me. But a block out of the substance you're thinking of… you might as well wipe your ass with gold leaf while you're at it!"
My soon-to-be ex-sensei headed to a bureau tucked into the wall of his workshop. Opening one of its drawers, he withdrew a small folder, and proffered it.
"Here," he told me, coolly. "The seal schema for the inferior prints you'll be making. You'll need to hand-carve the blocks yourself, else it won't work. Consider my obligations to Gai-chan fulfilled."
I took the folder from his hand, and opening it, scanned the contents. They appeared to be thin pieces of paper - washi - with the same seal repeated across different sizes.
"Thank you," I told him, and bowed to him for a final bow. "For the lessons, and for the final lesson."
He bowed back, his eyes following me until the moment I exited his studio.
Gai was right.
"Craftsman" my ass.
Fucking artistes - they were the same in every goddamn universe.
I was too busy silently cursing Shinbe out while trudging back from my successfully failed attempt to learn how to produce paper bombs, that I was almost startled when a certain dark-haired member of the Shorts Mafia came out of nowhere.
"Heh," Sasuke grunted, as he greeted me.
"Well, hello to you too, Sasuke," came my easy response. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. And you?"
He scowled. "I should have known that's why you were able to get so many people behind you," he stated, rather than continue exchanging pleasantries. "Senju Nobunaga."
I had to let out a deep breath at that. "Uzumaki Nobunaga," I corrected - it was going to become a reflex, I just knew it. "And that had nothing to do with it.'
"Sure," he grunted. "The way the Senju practically are this village had nothing to do with it." He snorted. "The Uchiha were just the ones who made it work."
"Until they weren't," the words slipped out of my mouth before I could even think.
He let out a short, sharp laugh. "Until we weren't."
Honestly? I was kind of grateful that was what came out.
I'd read the bingo book now. Got the low-down on most of the big threats, from Hiei the Mountain… to the actual culprit behind the Uchiha Massacre. Sasuke's brother - former jonin, ex-ANBU captain Uchiha Itachi. Now a missing-nin. The book was very clear on the rules of engagement for the teenager in question: don't. Retreat, delay, call for backup.
Yeah, no shit. There was only one person on the planet who was going to be able to kill Itachi, and he was currently all of thirteen years old.
"Is there a point to this conversation, Sasuke?" I asked him, suddenly feeling more than a little tired.
"Just letting you know that I see you," came his reply.
See me? What the fuck did he-
"Sasuke," I sighed. "If I knew this entire time I was a fucking Senju, then why did I grow up in in the goddamn slums?"
And while he stewed on that question, I walked right past him, and into the late afternoon.
The largest barrier standing in the way of my personal progress was my inability to actually make use of my vast chakra reserves. The second time I'd opened the First Gate was the first time in nearly a decade that I could tap into my reserves at a rate that could actually deplete them.
But learning to become comfortable unconsciously channeling larger quantities of chakra was tedious - and while I was doing it on a daily basis, I was also looking to my future advancement as well. I'd be trying to make tonkubetsu jonin on the strength of my genjutsu, but I wasn't too worried on that front.
But regular jonin? I'd need to be incredible to make jonin - especially given the legacy of… that woman in the back of everyone's mind. I couldn't be like Tenten's master and copy a B-rank technique out of a book; I'd need to innovate.
And in order to innovate, I'd first need to find the footsteps of the giants on whose shoulders I would stand upon. So after a morning of chakra exercises designed to strengthen my output, I headed into the archives, where I'd reserved a room -
- only to find it already occupied.
"Oh, I'm very sorry," the elder from the Memorial Stone remarked, not sounding very sorry at all. "I believe there was a mix-up with the reservations. Perhaps?"
Mix-up, my ass. There was a tea service for two in front of him and a shogi board. But sure. A mix-up.
Of course, he knew that I knew that this was pretextual, and very obviously so at that. Not that our prior encounter had been mere coincidence, either. ANBU wanted me - they'd made no secret of it after my invention of Subtitle. Now that I was a chunin, I was no longer as firmly under Gai's jurisdiction, and therefore they could be more blatant in their wooing.
Really, it was quite flattering, in a way.
I wasn't going to take them up on it, but I was still flattered nonetheless.
"Elder," I inclined my head. "A pleasant surprise. The archivists are normally very good with reservations."
"I fear that the stress of recent events has gotten to them," he conceded. He had yet to give me his name - and from context, asking would be a concession in a game whose rules I had yet to fully uncover. "I would not shame them by letting them know of their error, would you?"
"Indeed not," I informed him, and accepted the invitation of his waved hand into the seat opposite his.
Inwardly, of course, I was still slightly fuming - I wasn't going to be able to check out the scrolls I was looking for today, it seemed.
"Do you play shogi, at all?" The elder asked, as I poured him a cup of tea - it was the expected task of a junior for the senior member of the group.
"Some," I informed him. "I'm not very good at it."
"A shame," he informed me. "The general's board game is traditionally considered one of the better ways to learn tactics and strategy."
He offered me the piece toss - I lost, meaning that I would be going second.
"Respectfully, elder," I noted. "I disagree."
He raised his eyebrow as he opened.
"Oh?"
I waved my hand over the board.
"There is equality in pieces." I advanced a pawn, and he smiled indulgently as he moved one of his own.
"Perfect information. No cheating or outside interference. It is a perfectly controlled environment, elder."
He chuckled. "And you are a genjutsu specialist. Well, well, I shall concede your point - somewhat."
The game advanced. He was far, far better than me at the game - I was losing, easily. Two of his pieces got promoted; my forces were being chewed up and then turned against me.
"-but," he continued. "One ought learn what the rules are, in order to break them." His eye met mine, "As the Hidden Sand and Sound did."
"...There is wisdom in that, elder," I bowed my head, and conceded the match.
"A fine game," he informed me, and sipped his tea. "Tell me, chunin - you have heard the rumors of what we shall be doing next with those who have invaded us. But what would you have done differently?"
Oh great. He was going to ask me to criticize past policy. Which meant I was wading into political debates which I, as a newly promoted chunin, had no insight into.
Fuck it.
I'd rather be right than politic any day. Which had gotten me in trouble several times in my past life - but old habits die hard.
"Frankly," I told him. "It shows that our approach to Sand was completely wrong."
His eye widened, just a tad, but he didn't react any further, so I pressed on.
"The fact that even with our alliance, no mid-level or other officers had second thoughts or reached out to us? Deeply concerning."
There. Short, sweet, and to the point.
His lone eye closed and he nodded.
"...Indeed," was his only comment.
We sat in companionable silence for a long moment.
"...Elder," I broke the silence. "I beg your pardon, but I must confess something to you."
"Oh?"
"I have no wish to deceive you," I informed him, and the smile I received was telling. "But I do not believe I will be joining ANBU. It is not because of my jonin, elder - I do not believe I have the mindset for it."
The elder shrugged. "It would be a poor world if everyone thought the same way," he conceded. "A tree without branches is as dead as a tree without roots."
Reaching into the center of his robes, he withdrew a scroll, and placed it upon the table between us.
"Do remember, Nobunaga-bochama. As chunin, you have access to a wider selection of resources, rather than the scraps your jonin decides you are fit for."
Picking up his cane, he exited the room; when his footsteps faded, I picked up what he left for me.
Genjutsu, the label on the scroll noted. Temporary Paralysis Technique.
The streets were absolutely crowded the day of Tsunade's inauguration. Times Square on New Year's Eve level crowded. Tokyo Subway during rush hour crowded.
Not that Team Gai was down there, of course. No, we'd come early, gotten the good seats - we were perched on the metal roof of one of the nearby buildings.
It was dwarfed by the building that our new Hokage was standing atop herself as she recited the Will of Fire in front of her adoring subjects, but hey - at least we weren't surrounded on all sides by the fawning masses.
Of course they were cheering like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't blame them. The granddaughter of the Shodaime had come back to them in their darkest hour - why wouldn't they cheer? The Legendary Sanin had come back; there she was, flanked by the other loyal Sanin, and the wheelchair-bound form of our previous leader, gravely injured in the defense of the village by the treachery of the third of Three.
Tsunade took the Hat in hand, spinning it upon her finger, a cocky smile upon her brow as she stood over us all.
"From this day forward, I am your Fifth Hokage of Konohagakure!" she cried out, before launching into her inaugural speech.
And the worst part was? She was a really good public speaker.
Her gaze moved steadily across the crowd with every word, lingering just long enough for individuals in each section to believe that she was making time for them, them specifically. Her tone rose and fell with passion, feigned or real - either there was some sort of fuinjutsu that let her project her voice or she actually could do so naturally.
Must have been nice, being raised the granddaughter of the Honored Founder.
"-And to those who feel left behind, or forgotten, or ill-used," her vision settled on me, and my heart skipped at beat. I could see the interplay of emotions crossing her face. "- I am your Hokage, too. And I shall not fail you."
I wanted to turn away, to scoff, to do something in protest. But those amber eyes held me, even as my body shook in place.
Neji placed a hand on my shoulder. The tremors faded, just a little.
And then her vision slowly, reluctantly moved elsewhere, and the moment faded.
Once the Hokage's speech came to a close, I turned, and made to leave.
It was the custom for the celebration for the raising of a new Hokage to last for a full month. All punishments were suspended for this duration; all wrongdoings absolved.
This was bullshit.
This "custom" had only occurred twice in the history of Konoha - for the Shodaime himself, and when the Sandaime had retired for the first time. All other times, we had been at war when there had been a transfer of power - there hadn't been any time for celebration. Even now, the celebratory period was only to last a week.
But even in those two periods, murder, theft - felonies had not been granted reprieve or pardon. Society had kept functioning even during these little festivals. People were still bastards.
Some of those people were now Hokage.
I re-entered my apartment in a foul mood, and took up my new tonkori, fingers itching with a nervous, irritable energy. The old instrument, which I'd mistaken for fine after my first meeting with the village's new Hokage, had actually been broken by my little outburst - in my rage, I'd snapped the thing's neck like Haru.
Getting a new one, along with putting together a new desk and getting other sundry items for the apartment, had been the work of a few days.
My new tonkori was better made than the old one, but that didn't really matter much to me. It was a source of stress relief, and if my attempts to recreate the shattered remnants of another world's music upon it were of questionable quality, then so be it.
A key turned in the lock, and the door to my apartment opened, but I didn't pay whomever it was any mind. Only a few people had a copy - they were free to use them. As for the people who I didn't want to come in… experience had taught me that both a door and harsh language were less than useless against them, anyway.
"'Cause you were bred, for humanity," I crooned softly, stroking the strings of the tonkori. "And sold, to society~ One day you'll wake up/ in the present day~ A million generations, removed from expectations, of being who you really want to be~"
My hand was trembling, my vision blurred. Rather than risk having to face the instrument shopkeeper yet again, I set the tonkori down, and took a deep breath.
"...I admire that about you, you know," Neji informed me, quietly. "Your resilience. No matter what happens, you just… keep… going."
I shook my head, bit back a bark of bitter laughter. "I don't feel particularly resilient, Neji," I said tiredly. "Honestly? I've been waiting for you to say something about my being a Senju ever since I found out, so please - just get it over with."
There was a slight shuffling as Neji took a few steps closer.
"Every member of Clan Hyuuga is taught about the clan that built Konoha." he informed me, solemnly. "Visionaries. Diplomats. Powerful ninja who made the world tremble at their achievements."
He paused, and as I looked up, a slight smile played over his lips.
"Are you quite certain that the Hokage is your mother?"
I couldn't help it.
I laughed.
Oh, but it felt good to laugh.
"That," I told him, "just might be the nicest thing you ever-"
He kissed me.
He wasn't very good at it, but to be fair, it wasn't like I was helping him. The shock hadn't even worn off when my hands started to move, to gently push him away, when he broke it off.
"Fuck," he breathed, lavender eyes wide.
"Neji-" I began, but he'd turned tail, sprinted out of my apartment.
"Neji!" I moved to the corridor but he'd kept down the stairs like a madman, and I wasn't going to follow.
What if I caught him? Then what?
And where the hell had that come from?
I rushed back into my apartment, went to the window tried to see if I could get a glimpse of my teammate from the street - nothing. He could be anywhere by now.
I wanted to get out there, search for him. But even if I found him - then what?
No. There was only one thing to do.
I picked up the receiver for the newly installed phone in the apartment, and twisted the dial.
"Hello, Operator? Yes. Four-Double Three-Niner-Seven, please."
Each ring felt like a heartbeat.
"This is Gai."
"Gai. This is Nobunaga. Neji's gone missing. I need you to find him."
There was a slight pause.
"What happened?"
"I… can't get into it," I didn't know what to say. What I should say. "Just… you need to find him. Please, Gai."
"...I will find him, Nobunaga. You have my word."
Click.
Fuck.
What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
Life was getting busy once more, but this next little errand was honestly something I should have done days ago.
Kotabe Ironworks probably had a waiting list the size of my forearm at this point - especially if the rumors that we were going to strike back against Hidden Sand "once the Hokage recovered" (read: once She became the new Hokage) were true. While they were slightly more artisanal than the other foundries, I had no doubt that they could just churn out equipment with the rest of them when we went to war.
And I'd lost my Fairbairn–Sykes-inspired dagger in the Chunin Exams attack. I was not going back to a standard issue kunai if I had another option, especially now that I was a chunin, dammit. Hopefully, even being at the back of the queue wouldn't be too bad….
…Ah, fuck, who was I kidding? In all likelihood, I'd be going into the desert with standard issue gear, because I was too caught up in my internal angst to get ahead of the curve.
"Ah, Honored Customer," the woman behind the counter bowed politely at me. "You have another commission for us?"
"Yes," I gave her my most charming business smile. "I understand that you must be busy, so-"
"-apologies," she smoothly interrupted me. "But would the honored customer mind waiting in our reception area? I can prepare a cup of matcha while someone sees to you."
…Okay, I was not expecting that.
The shopkeeper led me through the storefront, past the small stockroom, and into a small break room area - the furnishings were old, but well maintained, and the couch I was seated at comfortably well-broken in.
"Here you, Honored Customer," she informed me, before departing.
Curiouser and curiouser. I took a sip of the slightly steaming liquid -
-oh, damn.
This was some fine matcha. Earthy, a slight nuttiness, bright.
What the fuck was going on?
I contemplated getting the fuck out because clearly this was the setup for some kind of bizarre hit-job when a grey-haired man with a wiry build and carbon ash perfumed onto his skin despite his obvious best efforts entered the break room.
"I'm so sorry to keep Senju-ouji waiting," the old man bowed, deeply. "My name is Kotabe Teitetsu; my father founded the ironworks years ago. Please - come to my office!"
What the fuck was happening.
"Of course," I bowed in turn, blood simmering at the title he'd thrown at my feet. "My name is Uzumaki Nobunaga. It is a pleasure to meet you, Kotabe-sama."
He gave me a nervous chuckle. "You honor me, too much… Uzumaki-sama."
Still waaaaay too creepy. This man owned a pretty substantial business - there was no reason for him to throw around actual honorifics for a jumped-up street rat like me, even if I was now a chunin. The village was lousy with chunin; we probably made up most of his customers, and I doubted that he gave them the good matcha or an invitation to his office.
Teitetsu's office was starkly utilitarian - neatly stacked piles of paper on his desk, which was made of a thin slab of what looked to be scrap metal, and all of the seats were little more than folding chairs.
"I try to spend as little time here as I can," he apologized. "My expertise is on the forge floor."
"Please, sir," I said, as gently as possible. "This is all your domain. I still do not know why I am even here."
He colored slightly at my remark, as if I'd rebuked him. The fuck - the guy probably had kids my age. "Right," he chuckled. "Of course."
"Kotabe Ironworks," he told me, gesturing to a kunai encased in a glass frame, hanging on the wall, "is nearly as old as the village itself - we were founded seven years after the the Founding thanks to the generosity of your great-grandfather: the first Hokage himself!"
Teitetsu blinked back a tear. "Seventy ryou for an anvil," he informed me. "And thirty for the steel. My father brought the hammer. That was our beginning. And now-" his hands broadened, as if to encompass the entirety of the building we stood in.
"The loan has long since been paid back," he continued. "But there is a debt of honor between my family than yours, and that- that, young Uzumaki-sama, can never be repaid."
Throughout his entire monologue, I'd stayed very very quiet and very very still.
It was one thing to know that your mother was one of the Legendary Sannin.
It was quite another to have the implications of that slap you in the face.
"Now, then," he moved back to his desk, and opened a small folder - where I saw written notes from my first meeting with one of the men at the Ironworks. "You had some requests regarding your dagger-"
What followed was the most bizarre negotiation I'd ever underwent.
Kotabe Teitetsu wanted to grant every request that I'd made when commissioning that first dagger, including the royalty. He wanted to give me free Fairbairn–Sykes daggers, as many as I wanted, forever. He wanted nothing more than to repay the family that had given his family a chance.
And I couldn't let him do it.
I just… couldn't.
Even if part of me really, really wanted that money, I knew I couldn't.
The businessman wanted to give me money.
The poor chunin tried to refuse.
Eventually, we came to a compromise: I would receive a free knife (now officially termed a "Nobunaga"-style knife) every month, in perpetuity; any additional knives would be provided at cost. For the design, I would receive a royalty of half a percentage point on sales - which would be donated to the villages' orphanage fund; none of that money would ever touch my accounts.
I had a debt of honor of my own to pay, had been my explanation.
"...You are a credit to your family, Uzumaki-ouji," Teitetsu informed me, taking my hands between his. "Truly, you are."
The fumes from the foundry below blurring my vision, I could only nod, as he reached into his desk, and withdrew the first of the promised daggers.
"No no no no no no no!"
Shimbe snatched the brush right out of my hands, snapped the bamboo rod in two over his knee, and hurled it against the wall.
"What are you doing?" he demanded. "What is that? What was that? What… why… how… just…."
Sadly, this was not all that unusual when it came to lessons from the tokubetsu jonin. The man was a perfectionist, through and through.
"Sensei," I said, biting back the volley of insults, retorts, and general bile that was bubbling up beneath the surface. "You asked me to write my name."
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "But where's the artistry! The panache! The… the… where is it?!"
I pointed at the characters.
"It's… my name."
His hands were covering his eyes, as he let out a series of incredibly pained noises.
"I thought I was imagining things," he sighed, all-too dramatically. "You're young, you haven't found your footing yet - surely something will come of you! Of course, I thought! The first thing you ever learned to bring into existence!"
He pointed at the kanji the way a father pointed at a pile of shit on the living room rug… by a five year old.
"What the actual fuck is this?!" he demanded.
"What's wrong with it!" I snapped, losing perhaps a bit of my patience.
"Everything!" he let out a slightly crazed titter. "Do you have no soul, boy?"
Wow. Rude.
"I've seen Jiraiya's handwriting. He's sloppy too!"
Crack.
His hands slapped against the wood of the low table. His eyes bore into mine.
"Jiraiya-sama," he stressed. "is an artist. A Shodo Master. His brushwork is wild and untamed - a departure from traditional aesthetics in a free-flowing script that evokes the passion and transcendental beauty of the world!"
He flicked his wrist, and my paper slid off the desk.
"You," he told me shortly. "Are just bad."
Pushing off the table, he got back up once more. "Sealcraft," he continued, "stems from the brush. And if you cannot wield the instrument with the control it demands, then you cannot learn the trade. Go. I cannot teach you."
I leapt to my feet, snarling. "Bullshit."
He whirled to face me. "I beg your pardon?"
"Bull. Shit." I repeated. "Kibaku Fuda are standard equipment, you pretentious jackass. Yeah - you're a master, sensei, and I respect the fuck out of you for your skills - but these are one-and-done items. You can't tell me that each one is a singular work of art, folded ten thousand times until it can cut through a tank."
His eyes narrowed at my last sentence, and he shook his head. "Do you have any idea what the efficiency loss is between a brushwork seal and a woodblock is? And wood is the best chakra conductor there is!"
"No it isn't," I shot back.
Shinbe threw his hands up. "Okay, genius, you got me. But a block out of the substance you're thinking of… you might as well wipe your ass with gold leaf while you're at it!"
My soon-to-be ex-sensei headed to a bureau tucked into the wall of his workshop. Opening one of its drawers, he withdrew a small folder, and proffered it.
"Here," he told me, coolly. "The seal schema for the inferior prints you'll be making. You'll need to hand-carve the blocks yourself, else it won't work. Consider my obligations to Gai-chan fulfilled."
I took the folder from his hand, and opening it, scanned the contents. They appeared to be thin pieces of paper - washi - with the same seal repeated across different sizes.
"Thank you," I told him, and bowed to him for a final bow. "For the lessons, and for the final lesson."
He bowed back, his eyes following me until the moment I exited his studio.
Gai was right.
"Craftsman" my ass.
Fucking artistes - they were the same in every goddamn universe.
I was too busy silently cursing Shinbe out while trudging back from my successfully failed attempt to learn how to produce paper bombs, that I was almost startled when a certain dark-haired member of the Shorts Mafia came out of nowhere.
"Heh," Sasuke grunted, as he greeted me.
"Well, hello to you too, Sasuke," came my easy response. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. And you?"
He scowled. "I should have known that's why you were able to get so many people behind you," he stated, rather than continue exchanging pleasantries. "Senju Nobunaga."
I had to let out a deep breath at that. "Uzumaki Nobunaga," I corrected - it was going to become a reflex, I just knew it. "And that had nothing to do with it.'
"Sure," he grunted. "The way the Senju practically are this village had nothing to do with it." He snorted. "The Uchiha were just the ones who made it work."
"Until they weren't," the words slipped out of my mouth before I could even think.
He let out a short, sharp laugh. "Until we weren't."
Honestly? I was kind of grateful that was what came out.
I'd read the bingo book now. Got the low-down on most of the big threats, from Hiei the Mountain… to the actual culprit behind the Uchiha Massacre. Sasuke's brother - former jonin, ex-ANBU captain Uchiha Itachi. Now a missing-nin. The book was very clear on the rules of engagement for the teenager in question: don't. Retreat, delay, call for backup.
Yeah, no shit. There was only one person on the planet who was going to be able to kill Itachi, and he was currently all of thirteen years old.
"Is there a point to this conversation, Sasuke?" I asked him, suddenly feeling more than a little tired.
"Just letting you know that I see you," came his reply.
See me? What the fuck did he-
"Sasuke," I sighed. "If I knew this entire time I was a fucking Senju, then why did I grow up in in the goddamn slums?"
And while he stewed on that question, I walked right past him, and into the late afternoon.
The largest barrier standing in the way of my personal progress was my inability to actually make use of my vast chakra reserves. The second time I'd opened the First Gate was the first time in nearly a decade that I could tap into my reserves at a rate that could actually deplete them.
But learning to become comfortable unconsciously channeling larger quantities of chakra was tedious - and while I was doing it on a daily basis, I was also looking to my future advancement as well. I'd be trying to make tonkubetsu jonin on the strength of my genjutsu, but I wasn't too worried on that front.
But regular jonin? I'd need to be incredible to make jonin - especially given the legacy of… that woman in the back of everyone's mind. I couldn't be like Tenten's master and copy a B-rank technique out of a book; I'd need to innovate.
And in order to innovate, I'd first need to find the footsteps of the giants on whose shoulders I would stand upon. So after a morning of chakra exercises designed to strengthen my output, I headed into the archives, where I'd reserved a room -
- only to find it already occupied.
"Oh, I'm very sorry," the elder from the Memorial Stone remarked, not sounding very sorry at all. "I believe there was a mix-up with the reservations. Perhaps?"
Mix-up, my ass. There was a tea service for two in front of him and a shogi board. But sure. A mix-up.
Of course, he knew that I knew that this was pretextual, and very obviously so at that. Not that our prior encounter had been mere coincidence, either. ANBU wanted me - they'd made no secret of it after my invention of Subtitle. Now that I was a chunin, I was no longer as firmly under Gai's jurisdiction, and therefore they could be more blatant in their wooing.
Really, it was quite flattering, in a way.
I wasn't going to take them up on it, but I was still flattered nonetheless.
"Elder," I inclined my head. "A pleasant surprise. The archivists are normally very good with reservations."
"I fear that the stress of recent events has gotten to them," he conceded. He had yet to give me his name - and from context, asking would be a concession in a game whose rules I had yet to fully uncover. "I would not shame them by letting them know of their error, would you?"
"Indeed not," I informed him, and accepted the invitation of his waved hand into the seat opposite his.
Inwardly, of course, I was still slightly fuming - I wasn't going to be able to check out the scrolls I was looking for today, it seemed.
"Do you play shogi, at all?" The elder asked, as I poured him a cup of tea - it was the expected task of a junior for the senior member of the group.
"Some," I informed him. "I'm not very good at it."
"A shame," he informed me. "The general's board game is traditionally considered one of the better ways to learn tactics and strategy."
He offered me the piece toss - I lost, meaning that I would be going second.
"Respectfully, elder," I noted. "I disagree."
He raised his eyebrow as he opened.
"Oh?"
I waved my hand over the board.
"There is equality in pieces." I advanced a pawn, and he smiled indulgently as he moved one of his own.
"Perfect information. No cheating or outside interference. It is a perfectly controlled environment, elder."
He chuckled. "And you are a genjutsu specialist. Well, well, I shall concede your point - somewhat."
The game advanced. He was far, far better than me at the game - I was losing, easily. Two of his pieces got promoted; my forces were being chewed up and then turned against me.
"-but," he continued. "One ought learn what the rules are, in order to break them." His eye met mine, "As the Hidden Sand and Sound did."
"...There is wisdom in that, elder," I bowed my head, and conceded the match.
"A fine game," he informed me, and sipped his tea. "Tell me, chunin - you have heard the rumors of what we shall be doing next with those who have invaded us. But what would you have done differently?"
Oh great. He was going to ask me to criticize past policy. Which meant I was wading into political debates which I, as a newly promoted chunin, had no insight into.
Fuck it.
I'd rather be right than politic any day. Which had gotten me in trouble several times in my past life - but old habits die hard.
"Frankly," I told him. "It shows that our approach to Sand was completely wrong."
His eye widened, just a tad, but he didn't react any further, so I pressed on.
"The fact that even with our alliance, no mid-level or other officers had second thoughts or reached out to us? Deeply concerning."
There. Short, sweet, and to the point.
His lone eye closed and he nodded.
"...Indeed," was his only comment.
We sat in companionable silence for a long moment.
"...Elder," I broke the silence. "I beg your pardon, but I must confess something to you."
"Oh?"
"I have no wish to deceive you," I informed him, and the smile I received was telling. "But I do not believe I will be joining ANBU. It is not because of my jonin, elder - I do not believe I have the mindset for it."
The elder shrugged. "It would be a poor world if everyone thought the same way," he conceded. "A tree without branches is as dead as a tree without roots."
Reaching into the center of his robes, he withdrew a scroll, and placed it upon the table between us.
"Do remember, Nobunaga-bochama. As chunin, you have access to a wider selection of resources, rather than the scraps your jonin decides you are fit for."
Picking up his cane, he exited the room; when his footsteps faded, I picked up what he left for me.
Genjutsu, the label on the scroll noted. Temporary Paralysis Technique.
The streets were absolutely crowded the day of Tsunade's inauguration. Times Square on New Year's Eve level crowded. Tokyo Subway during rush hour crowded.
Not that Team Gai was down there, of course. No, we'd come early, gotten the good seats - we were perched on the metal roof of one of the nearby buildings.
It was dwarfed by the building that our new Hokage was standing atop herself as she recited the Will of Fire in front of her adoring subjects, but hey - at least we weren't surrounded on all sides by the fawning masses.
Of course they were cheering like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't blame them. The granddaughter of the Shodaime had come back to them in their darkest hour - why wouldn't they cheer? The Legendary Sanin had come back; there she was, flanked by the other loyal Sanin, and the wheelchair-bound form of our previous leader, gravely injured in the defense of the village by the treachery of the third of Three.
Tsunade took the Hat in hand, spinning it upon her finger, a cocky smile upon her brow as she stood over us all.
"From this day forward, I am your Fifth Hokage of Konohagakure!" she cried out, before launching into her inaugural speech.
And the worst part was? She was a really good public speaker.
Her gaze moved steadily across the crowd with every word, lingering just long enough for individuals in each section to believe that she was making time for them, them specifically. Her tone rose and fell with passion, feigned or real - either there was some sort of fuinjutsu that let her project her voice or she actually could do so naturally.
Must have been nice, being raised the granddaughter of the Honored Founder.
"-And to those who feel left behind, or forgotten, or ill-used," her vision settled on me, and my heart skipped at beat. I could see the interplay of emotions crossing her face. "- I am your Hokage, too. And I shall not fail you."
I wanted to turn away, to scoff, to do something in protest. But those amber eyes held me, even as my body shook in place.
Neji placed a hand on my shoulder. The tremors faded, just a little.
And then her vision slowly, reluctantly moved elsewhere, and the moment faded.
Once the Hokage's speech came to a close, I turned, and made to leave.
It was the custom for the celebration for the raising of a new Hokage to last for a full month. All punishments were suspended for this duration; all wrongdoings absolved.
This was bullshit.
This "custom" had only occurred twice in the history of Konoha - for the Shodaime himself, and when the Sandaime had retired for the first time. All other times, we had been at war when there had been a transfer of power - there hadn't been any time for celebration. Even now, the celebratory period was only to last a week.
But even in those two periods, murder, theft - felonies had not been granted reprieve or pardon. Society had kept functioning even during these little festivals. People were still bastards.
Some of those people were now Hokage.
I re-entered my apartment in a foul mood, and took up my new tonkori, fingers itching with a nervous, irritable energy. The old instrument, which I'd mistaken for fine after my first meeting with the village's new Hokage, had actually been broken by my little outburst - in my rage, I'd snapped the thing's neck like Haru.
Getting a new one, along with putting together a new desk and getting other sundry items for the apartment, had been the work of a few days.
My new tonkori was better made than the old one, but that didn't really matter much to me. It was a source of stress relief, and if my attempts to recreate the shattered remnants of another world's music upon it were of questionable quality, then so be it.
A key turned in the lock, and the door to my apartment opened, but I didn't pay whomever it was any mind. Only a few people had a copy - they were free to use them. As for the people who I didn't want to come in… experience had taught me that both a door and harsh language were less than useless against them, anyway.
"'Cause you were bred, for humanity," I crooned softly, stroking the strings of the tonkori. "And sold, to society~ One day you'll wake up/ in the present day~ A million generations, removed from expectations, of being who you really want to be~"
My hand was trembling, my vision blurred. Rather than risk having to face the instrument shopkeeper yet again, I set the tonkori down, and took a deep breath.
"...I admire that about you, you know," Neji informed me, quietly. "Your resilience. No matter what happens, you just… keep… going."
I shook my head, bit back a bark of bitter laughter. "I don't feel particularly resilient, Neji," I said tiredly. "Honestly? I've been waiting for you to say something about my being a Senju ever since I found out, so please - just get it over with."
There was a slight shuffling as Neji took a few steps closer.
"Every member of Clan Hyuuga is taught about the clan that built Konoha." he informed me, solemnly. "Visionaries. Diplomats. Powerful ninja who made the world tremble at their achievements."
He paused, and as I looked up, a slight smile played over his lips.
"Are you quite certain that the Hokage is your mother?"
I couldn't help it.
I laughed.
Oh, but it felt good to laugh.
"That," I told him, "just might be the nicest thing you ever-"
He kissed me.
He wasn't very good at it, but to be fair, it wasn't like I was helping him. The shock hadn't even worn off when my hands started to move, to gently push him away, when he broke it off.
"Fuck," he breathed, lavender eyes wide.
"Neji-" I began, but he'd turned tail, sprinted out of my apartment.
"Neji!" I moved to the corridor but he'd kept down the stairs like a madman, and I wasn't going to follow.
What if I caught him? Then what?
And where the hell had that come from?
I rushed back into my apartment, went to the window tried to see if I could get a glimpse of my teammate from the street - nothing. He could be anywhere by now.
I wanted to get out there, search for him. But even if I found him - then what?
No. There was only one thing to do.
I picked up the receiver for the newly installed phone in the apartment, and twisted the dial.
"Hello, Operator? Yes. Four-Double Three-Niner-Seven, please."
Each ring felt like a heartbeat.
"This is Gai."
"Gai. This is Nobunaga. Neji's gone missing. I need you to find him."
There was a slight pause.
"What happened?"
"I… can't get into it," I didn't know what to say. What I should say. "Just… you need to find him. Please, Gai."
"...I will find him, Nobunaga. You have my word."
Click.
Fuck.
What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
- Location
- Edinburgh
Huh, that was... not what I was expecting. I completely missed any setup for that.
So did Nobunaga.
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I mean, same re: Shizune. Not bad swerves (Lord knows Kishimoto wasn't exactly good at non-villainous or straightforward queer representation...or y'know, writing women), just definitely swerves from expectations.
Helluva cliffhanger. Great chapter and hyped for the next chapter.
- Location
- My happy place
Man, the drama never stops for this poor bastard. He just cannot catch a break, can he. The Ironworks was bad enough, I would hate being sucked up to because of a deadbeat parent has a famed name. After that everybody is giving him shit one after the other. Neji is the worst at the end. I've had somthing like that happen to me, it was gross, weird and awkward as all hell.
Rancorious
Continue? Yes or No.
Lee, who was waiting outside the door:
- Location
- Who knows?
Look Industrious is just following the fanfic trend of pairing Neji with the non-Lee teammate!
- Location
- England
Just got this far. Am I being paranoid, or am I not being paranoid enough.
Now to go back and read the rest.
Aw raspberries. It never ends
Huh.
Would the Branch and Main branch have a problem with Gay or Bisexual members? Would Neji have issues from them should they find out?
Would the Branch and Main branch have a problem with Gay or Bisexual members? Would Neji have issues from them should they find out?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I agree however due to me not having interaction with gays people in general I might have just missed the hints the only hint I could see was that he kept insisting that he was not homophobic plus Kishimoto writing romantic relationships make Naruto look like a gay person because of his obsession with Sasuke just look at sasus-naru fanfics and most of mid to late part of the series for proof
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That's what it's like when you're a straight guy and your best friend has been hiding that he's gay and has a crush on you.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Ok so like…
From chapter 6 on, there's breadcrumbs. Neji gives Nobu way more preferential treatment than anyone he does in canon. And the blushing? The blushing. So much.
Like if you look for it it's there. Now most straight guys aren't gonna look for it, and honestly knowing what very little I do of Industrious, I assumed it was simple friendship myself. With Neji as an awkward duck.
That said? It's certainly been building and the level of emotional vulnerability and intimacy makes a lot of sense through that lens.
Now that my first read is done I need to go back over and see if there are any other gays I missed. Because if real life has taught me anything, there's never just one.
Source: actual factual member of Alphabet Mafia.
___
Well. Let's hope certain goings-on with the 'honored elder' never come to light or poor Nobunaga will have his world rocked. Oh who am I kidding, it's gonna happen. But congrats on not getting subsumed into a shadow army!
From chapter 6 on, there's breadcrumbs. Neji gives Nobu way more preferential treatment than anyone he does in canon. And the blushing? The blushing. So much.
Like if you look for it it's there. Now most straight guys aren't gonna look for it, and honestly knowing what very little I do of Industrious, I assumed it was simple friendship myself. With Neji as an awkward duck.
That said? It's certainly been building and the level of emotional vulnerability and intimacy makes a lot of sense through that lens.
Now that my first read is done I need to go back over and see if there are any other gays I missed. Because if real life has taught me anything, there's never just one.
Source: actual factual member of Alphabet Mafia.
___
Well. Let's hope certain goings-on with the 'honored elder' never come to light or poor Nobunaga will have his world rocked. Oh who am I kidding, it's gonna happen. But congrats on not getting subsumed into a shadow army!
- Location
- Somewhere and Nowhere in a state of super-position
I think that was part of the point comrade.
- Location
- Edinburgh
I'm terrible at picking up social cues. So I'm never sure whether it's the point or whether I missed it!
Interlude - That's What I Fucking Want
spencer1519
(Verified Heretic)
- Location
- Oregon, USA
Interlude - That's What I Fucking Want
This, too, is youth.
Nobunaga believed that Neji required assistance. Assistance that he could not provide himself. His genin had done the right thing, reaching for his Jonin to perform tasks that were beyond his reach.
Briefly, he entertained the thought that this might be related to Neji's… internal conflict with his own family. That he might be holed up in the Hyuuga compound, or perhaps he was being held there. The possibility was dismissed. Nobunaga had called him, which meant the inciting incident likely occurred at his own home.
A quick check of Nobunaga's apartment from a rooftop across the street showed no damage and no blood trail, so whatever pain young Neji was now experiencing, it was likely a pain of the heart. The first wound was always the most egregious.
Neji had fled Nobunaga's domicile. His exfiltration was awkward, not up to his usual standards. He had run nearly all the way to the end of the street before a jump took his trail to a nearby rooftop, only there had Neji gotten his wits about him enough to obscure his trail.
Afternoon was becoming evening. Shadows crept forward and lengthened, reaching forward like clawing hands.
He could search the village systematically, but that would be a waste of everyone's time. There were only so many places Neji would retreat to if he wanted to be alone. There was one place he would likely be above all others. Truly, there were two places in the village that men grappling with their hearts tended to stand before. His eternal rival favored one of them, the memorial stone in the cemetery.
Gai preferred the other, and in a reflection of his own soul seen through the crystal clear waters of a still pond, Maito Gai found his student.
At the top of the kage's tower, above the academy, Hyuuga Neji was too focused on the monument of the previous Hokages carved into the living rock of the mountains above the village to notice his approach. It was a sloppy but forgivable mistake. Mistakes were best made in the safety of the village, surrounded by those who could support your will with their own. He was not here alone. Nobunaga's own will to see his friend safe and happy burned in his own heart. Rock Lee wasn't even aware of the current situation unfolding before him, but that did not mean his will was absent. If he had known, he too would lend his support, and so his flame burned besides Nobunaga's and his own.
As Gai landed on the rooftop, he realized that his genin had seen him coming, he had simply chosen not to react. Neji's eyes were locked on those of the first Hokage, tears no longer actively flowing, but the evidence of their passage remained. "I've ruined it," he said simply.
Gai took note of Neji's footing. His positioning on the roof. His proximity to the edge of it. Shinobi in the throes of heart's turmoil could be unpredictable. It didn't hurt to be prepared.
"Who's the real fool?" Neji spat suddenly. "I'm the one who thought I could live my real life like a novel. Stupid. How could I have read him so poorly?! It is the one thing in life I excel at and I completely-" The boy forcibly cut off his own sentence, his eyes squeezed closed. He was attempting to calm himself using the techniques Gai had given all his students, but unfortunately extreme measures would be required.
Neji's only reaction to the sudden slap to the back of his head was to turn to face his sensei. "Gai-Sensei…" he mumbled, still lost within the thoughts churning through his mind like a distant thunderstorm.
He firmly grasped his student's shoulders - a good bit of shaking would do the job of bringing him back to the here and now. The only time and place that mattered. "None of that now, young genin," he soothed. "This pain you feel is because you are young. This, too, is training."
Neji shook his head as he wobbled, just about the only part of himself he could move beneath Gai's grip on his shoulders. "You don't understand what's happened." It was not a sob, but the carefully aborted beginning of one. A mere hitch of breath. "What I've done."
Gai was starting to get a sense of what had happened. Nothing either Nobunaga or Neji had said pointed to it outright, but there were signs. There were… impressions. A certain beautiful symmetry of a time he had stood upon this very roof wondering if he was broken. Of a senpai who had convinced him he was not.
To think that he could pass down this legacy he had once himself received. It was unexpected; a new experience for him as well as Neji. Indeed, one day Neji, too, could find himself in the same mentor position, standing upon this very roof, beneath this very moon!
He released Neji's shoulders, took a step back, gave him room to breathe and collect himself. "Don't understand?"
He didn't, not the specifics, but he didn't need to. He hadn't been here, in fact; he'd been in Nobunaga's position, pursued by one whose feelings he did not reciprocate… could not reciprocate.
And she had been hurt by that.
"Two young men, working and training together, both of you in the prime of your youth? It seems only natural, doesn't it, that a spark would emerge - a bond, unspoken that can only be brought into being-"
Gai smiled as Neji's eyes widened, the realization finally sinking in. The true purpose of his words unfolding behind his eyes. He placed a hand atop his student's head.
"Did you think you were the only one in the village, Neji?"
Neji looked down, pulling away from Gai's hand. "It's not the same! Nobunaga… he didn't- How can I face him again? He must hate me." He had turned away, not completely, just enough that he could look behind him at the mountain once more.
Oh Neji, "He doesn't hate you. He cares about you. He asked me to find you. He isn't like us, no. But there is no room in his heart to hate you." He emphasized the point by patting his heart twice with his closed fist. "If Nobunaga knows of my preferences, he has never brought it up. When he asked me to find you, he did not know that I have had experience in these matters. His only concern was that he knew he could not be the one standing here, and he didn't want you to be alone with this."
It was a fascinating coincidence, that he should end up in this position. Nobunaga was a frighteningly intelligent young man. How much he knew or was aware of at any given moment he always tended to keep close to his chest, cloaked behind the ruse of "operational security." How much of this was intentional would remain a mystery. If he didn't know, there was no reason to concern him. If he did, then he already knew.
His student sniffed, but didn't pull away. He wiped the remnants of tear streaks from his face. "It isn't fair! I don't even get along with him most of the time! He's infuriating! And rude!"
These frustrations, these were familiar to him.
"And his eyes! Like water at night… or in the right light… like sunlight dappled upon the waves… it's not fair…"
Of course it wasn't. But in the grand scheme of things, regardless of who one was attracted to, there was always the risk they did not share the feeling. These were problems faced by all who exposed their hearts to others, not just those like he and Neji.
Old memories sometimes took time to resurface, but today… seemed like a good day for it. He took a moment to remember; the details of the story did not matter, but the important things he would relay.
"Let me tell you a story, young genin," Gai said. "About a ninja and a civilian." He posed, the better to properly convey the drama. "A dashing, incredibly handsome young ninja, learning the ins and outs of the intricacies of youth. And of the pachinko parlor that young genin frequented in his off hours. Now, you might think that, perhaps, this young genin had a gambling problem, with how often he visited this shop. And you would, technically, be correct."
"You, sensei? Really?" Neji asked, brow creasing.
Gai grinned, not a little sheepishly. "I spent countless hours and all of my spare funds there, because the more my winnings tallied, the longer it would take to exchange them. You see, behind the counter there worked a boy. A boy filled with his own passions and desires."
It had been years since he'd thought about Marimaru. "His father owned the parlor, but he was the one who fixed the machines. He knew how they worked, he was the one who fixed them, and he could speak to their foibles and repairs for hours.
"It's perhaps the thing, to this day, I find most attractive in people. That passion and drive for something. That desire to grow more skilled. And his was so beautiful to me. All my companions to this day have shared the trait, even the ones that try so very hard to smother it. He had the hands for the work, too, delicate slender fingers that could reach just about…" Gai coughed into his hand, cutting himself off. Judging by the look on Neji's face, it had been the correct instinct to heed.
He took a moment to delve deeper into the memories of his teenaged self.
"Our first kiss was an accident," he went on. "We were talking in the parlor as he was shutting down for the night, he tripped, I turned to catch him. You can probably imagine the scenario."
"And after that?" Neji seemed to be invested in the story at least, which meant he wasn't thinking about Nobunaga, which meant this distraction and lesson combined into one was working. Truly, he was an excellent sensei. Superior to his rival.
"We experimented," he said simply. "Tried things out. And in the end, we parted ways. Amicably, if you're curious - it just turned out that way. These things… fortune unfortunately matters all too much."
Marimaru's father had been furious when he'd caught them. Though young Neji didn't need to know about that. And besides, what could a civilian do to a genin? Gai had made it very clear what would happen if the man tried to punish his son in Gai's stead. It was a mess for all involved, and the parlor had closed three years later, after Marimaru struck out to start his own shop in Hokyo.
"That is to say young Neji, it gets better. Or perhaps it gets easier. Who's to say?" Gai rubbed a spot on his jaw, a twinge of phantom pain from his duel with the then not-yet Hokage still present. The injury fully healed, but the strike that had sent him half way through the Forest of Death was not so easily forgotten. The memory of it lingered. "Find out for yourself."
Neji remained deep in thought. After a long pause, he asked, "Does Lee know what your "Eternal Rivalry" with Kakashi means?"
Inside his own head, Gai swore. He hadn't intended it, but Neji was smart enough given tonight's revelations to string clues and connections together. Something in his words had caused Neji to come to that conclusion. And it wasn't his place to guide him there. If he wanted to know about Kakashi, he would have to ask Kakashi. Even Gai didn't entirely understand the type of man his eternal rival was, but he didn't need to. The details didn't matter. Only the rivalry and its definitively eternal nature.
Externally, the jonin merely smiled. "He'll have to decide for himself what his eternal rivalry means." No further elaboration would be given. Keeping things vague kept things deniable.
Gai put his hand on his student's shoulder. After experiencing emotional turmoil, the cure was often something sweet. "Come, young Neji. I will show you the path my senpai walked with me."
Shizune had shown him the best ice cream shop in Konoha, and now he would introduce it to Neji.
This, too, is youth.
Nobunaga believed that Neji required assistance. Assistance that he could not provide himself. His genin had done the right thing, reaching for his Jonin to perform tasks that were beyond his reach.
Briefly, he entertained the thought that this might be related to Neji's… internal conflict with his own family. That he might be holed up in the Hyuuga compound, or perhaps he was being held there. The possibility was dismissed. Nobunaga had called him, which meant the inciting incident likely occurred at his own home.
A quick check of Nobunaga's apartment from a rooftop across the street showed no damage and no blood trail, so whatever pain young Neji was now experiencing, it was likely a pain of the heart. The first wound was always the most egregious.
Neji had fled Nobunaga's domicile. His exfiltration was awkward, not up to his usual standards. He had run nearly all the way to the end of the street before a jump took his trail to a nearby rooftop, only there had Neji gotten his wits about him enough to obscure his trail.
Afternoon was becoming evening. Shadows crept forward and lengthened, reaching forward like clawing hands.
He could search the village systematically, but that would be a waste of everyone's time. There were only so many places Neji would retreat to if he wanted to be alone. There was one place he would likely be above all others. Truly, there were two places in the village that men grappling with their hearts tended to stand before. His eternal rival favored one of them, the memorial stone in the cemetery.
Gai preferred the other, and in a reflection of his own soul seen through the crystal clear waters of a still pond, Maito Gai found his student.
At the top of the kage's tower, above the academy, Hyuuga Neji was too focused on the monument of the previous Hokages carved into the living rock of the mountains above the village to notice his approach. It was a sloppy but forgivable mistake. Mistakes were best made in the safety of the village, surrounded by those who could support your will with their own. He was not here alone. Nobunaga's own will to see his friend safe and happy burned in his own heart. Rock Lee wasn't even aware of the current situation unfolding before him, but that did not mean his will was absent. If he had known, he too would lend his support, and so his flame burned besides Nobunaga's and his own.
As Gai landed on the rooftop, he realized that his genin had seen him coming, he had simply chosen not to react. Neji's eyes were locked on those of the first Hokage, tears no longer actively flowing, but the evidence of their passage remained. "I've ruined it," he said simply.
Gai took note of Neji's footing. His positioning on the roof. His proximity to the edge of it. Shinobi in the throes of heart's turmoil could be unpredictable. It didn't hurt to be prepared.
"Who's the real fool?" Neji spat suddenly. "I'm the one who thought I could live my real life like a novel. Stupid. How could I have read him so poorly?! It is the one thing in life I excel at and I completely-" The boy forcibly cut off his own sentence, his eyes squeezed closed. He was attempting to calm himself using the techniques Gai had given all his students, but unfortunately extreme measures would be required.
Neji's only reaction to the sudden slap to the back of his head was to turn to face his sensei. "Gai-Sensei…" he mumbled, still lost within the thoughts churning through his mind like a distant thunderstorm.
He firmly grasped his student's shoulders - a good bit of shaking would do the job of bringing him back to the here and now. The only time and place that mattered. "None of that now, young genin," he soothed. "This pain you feel is because you are young. This, too, is training."
Neji shook his head as he wobbled, just about the only part of himself he could move beneath Gai's grip on his shoulders. "You don't understand what's happened." It was not a sob, but the carefully aborted beginning of one. A mere hitch of breath. "What I've done."
Gai was starting to get a sense of what had happened. Nothing either Nobunaga or Neji had said pointed to it outright, but there were signs. There were… impressions. A certain beautiful symmetry of a time he had stood upon this very roof wondering if he was broken. Of a senpai who had convinced him he was not.
To think that he could pass down this legacy he had once himself received. It was unexpected; a new experience for him as well as Neji. Indeed, one day Neji, too, could find himself in the same mentor position, standing upon this very roof, beneath this very moon!
He released Neji's shoulders, took a step back, gave him room to breathe and collect himself. "Don't understand?"
He didn't, not the specifics, but he didn't need to. He hadn't been here, in fact; he'd been in Nobunaga's position, pursued by one whose feelings he did not reciprocate… could not reciprocate.
And she had been hurt by that.
"Two young men, working and training together, both of you in the prime of your youth? It seems only natural, doesn't it, that a spark would emerge - a bond, unspoken that can only be brought into being-"
Gai smiled as Neji's eyes widened, the realization finally sinking in. The true purpose of his words unfolding behind his eyes. He placed a hand atop his student's head.
"Did you think you were the only one in the village, Neji?"
Neji looked down, pulling away from Gai's hand. "It's not the same! Nobunaga… he didn't- How can I face him again? He must hate me." He had turned away, not completely, just enough that he could look behind him at the mountain once more.
Oh Neji, "He doesn't hate you. He cares about you. He asked me to find you. He isn't like us, no. But there is no room in his heart to hate you." He emphasized the point by patting his heart twice with his closed fist. "If Nobunaga knows of my preferences, he has never brought it up. When he asked me to find you, he did not know that I have had experience in these matters. His only concern was that he knew he could not be the one standing here, and he didn't want you to be alone with this."
It was a fascinating coincidence, that he should end up in this position. Nobunaga was a frighteningly intelligent young man. How much he knew or was aware of at any given moment he always tended to keep close to his chest, cloaked behind the ruse of "operational security." How much of this was intentional would remain a mystery. If he didn't know, there was no reason to concern him. If he did, then he already knew.
His student sniffed, but didn't pull away. He wiped the remnants of tear streaks from his face. "It isn't fair! I don't even get along with him most of the time! He's infuriating! And rude!"
These frustrations, these were familiar to him.
"And his eyes! Like water at night… or in the right light… like sunlight dappled upon the waves… it's not fair…"
Of course it wasn't. But in the grand scheme of things, regardless of who one was attracted to, there was always the risk they did not share the feeling. These were problems faced by all who exposed their hearts to others, not just those like he and Neji.
Old memories sometimes took time to resurface, but today… seemed like a good day for it. He took a moment to remember; the details of the story did not matter, but the important things he would relay.
"Let me tell you a story, young genin," Gai said. "About a ninja and a civilian." He posed, the better to properly convey the drama. "A dashing, incredibly handsome young ninja, learning the ins and outs of the intricacies of youth. And of the pachinko parlor that young genin frequented in his off hours. Now, you might think that, perhaps, this young genin had a gambling problem, with how often he visited this shop. And you would, technically, be correct."
"You, sensei? Really?" Neji asked, brow creasing.
Gai grinned, not a little sheepishly. "I spent countless hours and all of my spare funds there, because the more my winnings tallied, the longer it would take to exchange them. You see, behind the counter there worked a boy. A boy filled with his own passions and desires."
It had been years since he'd thought about Marimaru. "His father owned the parlor, but he was the one who fixed the machines. He knew how they worked, he was the one who fixed them, and he could speak to their foibles and repairs for hours.
"It's perhaps the thing, to this day, I find most attractive in people. That passion and drive for something. That desire to grow more skilled. And his was so beautiful to me. All my companions to this day have shared the trait, even the ones that try so very hard to smother it. He had the hands for the work, too, delicate slender fingers that could reach just about…" Gai coughed into his hand, cutting himself off. Judging by the look on Neji's face, it had been the correct instinct to heed.
He took a moment to delve deeper into the memories of his teenaged self.
"Our first kiss was an accident," he went on. "We were talking in the parlor as he was shutting down for the night, he tripped, I turned to catch him. You can probably imagine the scenario."
"And after that?" Neji seemed to be invested in the story at least, which meant he wasn't thinking about Nobunaga, which meant this distraction and lesson combined into one was working. Truly, he was an excellent sensei. Superior to his rival.
"We experimented," he said simply. "Tried things out. And in the end, we parted ways. Amicably, if you're curious - it just turned out that way. These things… fortune unfortunately matters all too much."
Marimaru's father had been furious when he'd caught them. Though young Neji didn't need to know about that. And besides, what could a civilian do to a genin? Gai had made it very clear what would happen if the man tried to punish his son in Gai's stead. It was a mess for all involved, and the parlor had closed three years later, after Marimaru struck out to start his own shop in Hokyo.
"That is to say young Neji, it gets better. Or perhaps it gets easier. Who's to say?" Gai rubbed a spot on his jaw, a twinge of phantom pain from his duel with the then not-yet Hokage still present. The injury fully healed, but the strike that had sent him half way through the Forest of Death was not so easily forgotten. The memory of it lingered. "Find out for yourself."
Neji remained deep in thought. After a long pause, he asked, "Does Lee know what your "Eternal Rivalry" with Kakashi means?"
Inside his own head, Gai swore. He hadn't intended it, but Neji was smart enough given tonight's revelations to string clues and connections together. Something in his words had caused Neji to come to that conclusion. And it wasn't his place to guide him there. If he wanted to know about Kakashi, he would have to ask Kakashi. Even Gai didn't entirely understand the type of man his eternal rival was, but he didn't need to. The details didn't matter. Only the rivalry and its definitively eternal nature.
Externally, the jonin merely smiled. "He'll have to decide for himself what his eternal rivalry means." No further elaboration would be given. Keeping things vague kept things deniable.
Gai put his hand on his student's shoulder. After experiencing emotional turmoil, the cure was often something sweet. "Come, young Neji. I will show you the path my senpai walked with me."
Shizune had shown him the best ice cream shop in Konoha, and now he would introduce it to Neji.
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
On a different note, I really love what you've been doing with Danzo. It's never made sense that a master manipulator and behind-the-scenes puppetmaster would act as abrasively as he does in most fics with him in it, and this genial grandfather persona's probably gonna have a good chunk of repercussions for Nobunaga later on. Also, I love how Danzo met Nobunaga at a time where he's losing trust in authority figures, fast; good time to slot himself in!