Grudges
Prologue
A large fire was burning in the hearth. The flames, encouraged by kindle and dry wood, cast their light far and bright into the small room. Where it fell on the thick carpet, austere but skilfully woven, it revealed intricate patterns; where it touched the panelled walls and the richly decorated door, it glinted on the polished woodwork. It illuminated the carved desk and accompanying chair, both covered in scrolls, and cast dark shadows on the wall behind it.
On the desk stood a single candle, placed in a simple bronze candleholder. It was lit, even though its flame was dwarfed by its searing counterparts in the fireplace.
It was quiet, apart from the crackle of the flames.
Then the sound of approaching footsteps came from behind the door. A key slid noiselessly into a well-oiled lock. Unseen bolts rolled back, and then the door was flung open carelessly. A man entered the room.
He was about six feet tall and almost completely covered in a wide black cloak, with a hood that hid most of his features. The cloak hung open slightly, revealing a black kimono with red rims. As the man stepped inside, he immediately glanced in the direction of the desk; what he saw seemed to satisfy him, for his stance relaxed and he calmly closed and locked the door behind him before shoving the scrolls from the only chair and sitting down.
He seemed at a loss for what to do next. For a while he occupied himself with looking through the scrolls, but when he realised he had been reading the same lines three times without taking them in he sighed and put them down again. He started drumming his fingers on the desktop and stared at the candlelight, apparently lost in thought. Minutes went by.
Then he suddenly jolted upright, looked over his shoulder and stared intently at his shadow on the wall. It was changing shape.
A faint smile crept over the man's face, barely visible as he pulled the hood even further over his eyes. Then he stood up, shoved his chair aside and sat down on the floor, facing the wall. He waited until the shadow stopped shifting. It hadn't changed much – it had mostly become a little smaller. However, it was definitely someone else's shadow now. The man eyed it uncertainly. He had never tried this before.
"Hello?" he hazarded eventually.
"Are we ready to start?" the shadow replied.
The man hesitated. "I don't think we have met before... you must be-"
"You know who I am. I know who you are. Let's get on with it."
The man's eyes narrowed. "I do not wish to be addressed in that tone. You will treat me with the proper respect, or our cooperation ends here."
The shadow stayed silent for a while before answering. "Of course. My apologies, Rousoku-sama."
Rousoku relaxed. "Think nothing of it. Now, as you said, let us get down to business. Have you finished all the preparations?"
"Yes. All the pawns are in place or off the board. The situation is precisely as planned, apart from one detail."
"What detail?" Rousoku demanded. "The slightest unforeseen circumstance could ruin it all. What is this threat you speak of?"
"Naruto Uzumaki. The Jinchuuriki. It's not unthinkable he will be sent along."
"What, that fox child? The only one in his age group who still has not been promoted to chuunin? Is that all?" Rousoku waved the argument aside. "If that is all that concerns you then I would be surprised if our plan did not run very smoothly indeed."
The shadow was unabashed. "I strongly advise you not to underestimate him. His beast is the Nine-tailed Fox, the strongest of them all, and he already showed its power during the Chuunin exams. That was three years ago. One can only guess how strong he is now. It worries me."
Rousoku nodded. "Allow me to put your mind at ease then. Modosu has been working his way through our archives. You would be surprised to find how much forgotten knowledge is hidden there. Some of it pertains directly to the problem you describe, and to its solution."
"Enlighten me then," the shadow urged when the man didn't continue. "The more I know, the more efficient I can work."
But Rousoku shook his head. "You will have to trust me on this. This information is too important to send through such an unreliable method of communication. I can assure you though, it makes no difference whether the Jinchuuriki comes or not. We are in control of the situation."
The shadow didn't press the point. "As you wish, Rousoku-sama. Was there anything else?"
Rousoku shifted uneasily; his legs were already aching from sitting on the hard wood that made up the floor. "No. I do not think so. I will tell Modosu to finish up the preparations. After that, the rest is up to you." He stood up abruptly, suddenly filled with renewed energy. "Do not forget how important this is. For you and me both. We are going to change history, do you understand? Do you realise?"
The shadow remained silent, but it didn't matter. Rousoku seemed to be talking to himself, his voice slowly trailing off. "Change history. That is what I will do. And they will call me a hero for doing it. You just wait. They mock me now, but they will call me... a hero."