AN: This is my idea of what Konoha's AA might be like. I know it's not like the real one. I thought I'd explore what a religion based on fire might be like.
AA
Lira smoothed her dress and stopped in front of the Trial by Fire mission. It was an old storefront re-purposed as a Fire Temple Outreach Center. It still showed the marks of an ancient collapse around the northern corner of the building. The buildings on either side had been boarded up years ago, rain streaking the wood placed and forgotten in the windows. The soft twilight couldn't even make the place look better. Lira could see where cheap plywood had been layered inside a hole in the wall near the door. The cold wind whipped her skirt, but she didn't hurry inside. AA meetings made her nervous, and it wouldn't be much warmer in there anyway.
She eventually stepped through the door, and when she saw the familiar faces of her group she relaxed a bit. A newcomer stood uncertainly near the coffee-pot, holding her cup tightly in white-knuckled hands. Normally Lira would have wanted to comfort a younger person in such obvious distress, but she didn't want to really get to know these people. It was dangerous. If anyone found out who she really was her life and career would be over.
She needed them though. She could feel it. Her friends were great, but she couldn't talk to them about her problem. The ones who didn't drink would lecture her, and the ones who did would think she was overreacting. One friend in particular would worry about her, and she didn't want to ever see pity on his face. She felt both attracted and repelled by the people here who referred to her as one of their "Fire Sisters".
That was something else she had to adapt to. She'd come here for an entirely secular reason, but these people embraced her in the name of the Fire Nation. She wondered what it must be like to be from the Sand or the Rain or any of the Elemental Nations that didn't combine national identity with their religion. It didn't matter. She believed. She just hadn't thought much about the details of her belief. She served the Fire Nation, and she'd always believed that was enough. She still did, and some of the Brothers and Sisters had a devotion that made her uneasy.
She moved as close as politely possible to the only heat source in the room – a small electric heater near the coffee and donut table. There was a pecking order she'd quickly noticed, but a different one than she'd ever seen before. The strongest made way for the feeble and elderly, letting them nearest the heat. They gave the weakest old grandmother the thickest blanket, and one young man poured her coffee when he saw that her hands shook too much for the task. Most of the people looked poor, but a few wore nicer clothes than the rest.
The Elder Fire Brother called the meeting to order, and they all drifted obediently to their seats. She listened to his opening remarks exhorting them to think positively and embrace the Fire Nation to fight the demon of drink. It was about the same speech every week. It didn't sound canned though. She saw in his face nothing but sincerity and care.
Other people stood and shared their experiences, and as it neared her turn she felt an unfamiliar awkwardness. She was used to confidence, and this feeling of hopeless was new.
She stood. "Hi. My name is Lira. I've been Clean and Sober for 31 days."
"Hi Lira," the group chanted in unison.
"I bought a bottle of sake today," she said. "I didn't drink it, but it's in my desk. I don't want to drink it. I owe the ninja who got hurt because of me to stay sober."
The woman next to her took her hand, and Lira had to fight instincts that screamed at her. It's not an attack, she thought. She's trying to comfort me.
"You fought the temptation, Fire Sister," Elder Fire Brother said. "That's good. When you go home tonight try to pour that sake in the sink. Who is your partner?"
"I'm not ready for a partner yet," she said. It was one aspect of the program she couldn't accept. It was too dangerous.
He nodded. "When you're ready for a partner, come see me for an assignment. We support you in your struggles, Little Sister."
She took her hand from the woman's and wrung her long red plait of hair nervously. "Thank you, Elder Brother. I'll throw it out tonight. I know that I don't need it."
The man sitting on the other side squeezed her shoulder softly. His name was Edward, and she'd just heard him tell how he'd heard from his daughter for the first time in 30 years, after her mother showed her his 2 year pin.
His nose was large and red-veined, and his leathery skin showed evidence of a long, hard life spent mostly outdoors.
He accepts me at my worst, Lira thought, and she felt hot tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping away the tears.
"It's ok to cry," Elder Fire Brother said. She didn't know his name. He never gave it. He was the emissary of the Fire Temple, and he needed no name.
There was a pause, and she said. "Thank you. That's all I have to say today."
"Let's thank Lira for sharing," Elder Fire Brother said. The group clapped politely. She listened to the others tales of triumph and defeat, and she left feeling like she could defeat this another day. When she was safely out of sight she dropped her Lira disguise and walked the rest of the way in her own appearance.
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Tsunade trudged through her office, acknowledging Shizune's greeting with a half-hearted wave. She went straight to her desk and opened the drawer. There it was – her demon – ready to help her forget the brave young girl who had taken a kunai to the head to protect her Hokage who was too drunk to realize the attack happening near her.
She'd never been so drunk in her life, and it was over a stupid tiff with Jiraiya. No, she thought, it's because I don't want to love him, and I do.
The girl's name had been Haki Mitori, a far-distant cousin of hers. She wasn't entirely sure how they were related, but now they were bound by death.
She closed the drawer and looked at Mitori's picture on her desk; the black satin ribbon that edged the photo shone in the lamplight. "I'm so sorry," she said.
Tsunade unlocked the middle drawer of her desk, a secret place even Shizune didn't have a key for. She pulled out her 30 day pin and stared at it.
It was too much. She hurled the pin from her toward the corner of the room, and she heard a small clank as it hit the wall. She could feel the drink in the desk, promising a brief respite from her pain. Her friends just thought of her as a drunk anyway. They wouldn't even notice one more bender.
Tsunade pulled the sake bottle from the drawer, the familiar shape of the bottle felt right in her hand. As she pulled the stopped and the smell reached her, she saw Mitori's face. It wasn't enough to be a hallucination, but she knew the vision was real enough. It might have only been a product of her mind, but Tsunade wasn't sure.
Mitori didn't say anything. She just looked ahead. That isn't real, Tsunade thought.
She was suddenly disgusted with herself, and she flung the sake bottle into the same corner she'd just sent her pen into. The loud burst of glass made her jump, and Shizune opened the door.
"Tsunade-sama? Are you ok?"
"No, Shizune. I'm not ok. I don't know that I've been ok for years, maybe decades."
Shizune entered the room, her face changing to a worried look. "What's wrong? Can I help?"
"Later," Tsunade said. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet."
"I'm here when you need me," Shizune said.
"I know. You're always here when I need you. I don't appreciate you enough. I need to be alone now, but I'll talk with you when I can."
"Yes, Tsunade-sama," Shizune said as she closed the door quietly behind her.
Tsunade went to the corner that had felt her wrath, and she fished in the broken glass for her pin. She wiped the sake off on her blouse and tucked the pin into her bra. It poked her in the breast just enough to hurt slightly, but she didn't move it. The pain was a reminder that the pin was still there, that she still had a chance.