Another Way to Serve
Chapter Two
It didn't add up.
The papers claimed that his village's coffers had more money than what was physically available, but the treasury had insisted upon the lower figure while the accounts had been adamant on the higher value. Between the two, he minded the treasury more than the accountants. He, himself, had entered the treasury himself and had counted the yen and ryō, had touched and felt the coins, had shuffled through the paper monies and village treasures.
The accountants dealt with detached numbers given to them from, what he assumed to be, thin air.
Reality did not hold the account numbers true.
The Rokudaime rubbed his temples and let out a quiet sigh. He had expected the paperwork when accepting the Hokage post, but he had not expected mismanagement so early in his term—or worse. He clenched his jaw. It may not be mismanagement, but fraud. Even if it hadn't been happening so early in his term, he found it crude and disgusting for it to be happening so early after the war.
The Fourth Shinobi War should have brought the village together, not open a gateway for deception and cheating.
He placed the papers down on his desk and leaned over them, cheeks cradled between his hands, and glared at the joggling numbers and jumbled rows. He was starting to get a headache every time he reviewed them. Not only did he find them confusing, but also very, very troubling. A village could not run without proper funding, and even if the treasury was being swindled (which he suspected to be true), the reality of the matter was that the village's department of finance lacked genuine talent.
They were efficient, he would give them that, but not effective. He, and the rest of the council, had hoped for a steady increase in trade in the past year, if only to form firm alliances with the other villages. However, they had only witnessed a rise during the first few months of peacetime, and most of the supplies traveling between villages had been given out of courtesy and goodwill. No monies had been exchanged for they had all struggled to rebuild, and they had all endeavoured to aid one another as much as possible.
They had not made a new trading partner for half a year now. They had not bartered for higher prices on their goods and lower costs from their partners' for months. For weeks, they had been working hard to establish a relationship with the new daimyo, but Lord Fusao had proved himself more shrewd and prudent than his predecessor. It was good for the country, but not so good for their village.
"We're screwed," he pronounced to the empty room. He blew feebly at the strands of his hair, grey and unkempt and falling over his face, and fell forward on his desk. He used the financial papers as a pillow.
It was not befitting of the Hokage, but he couldn't care less.
A polite knock at the door and he sighed. If he didn't make a sound then he wasn't there, except that he was and the visitor knew it too. The feeling of someone watching him brought him straight in his seat. He knew the chakra formations and the eyes… the all-watching and all-knowing eyes.
A Hyuga, he thought, and then became curious and wary. Not many Hyuga would dare to use their Byakugan within the Hokage's tower, nor was it necessary.
"Lord Hokage," a wizened voice sounded from the door, feminine and graceful.
A typical Hyuga elder, he concluded.
"I know that you are in," the woman said, amicable and knowing.
He could not escape Hyuga eyes.
Sighing again, he smoothed down his robes and fiddled with the papers into some semblance of organization. Placing his Hokage hat over his misdemeanour hair, he confirmed, "Please, honourable elder, come in." He managed to place his sarcasm aside.
An old woman entered with two attendants, all dressed in their impeccable Hyuga white robes. The elder, with her silver hair in a majestic braid down her back, seemed to float into the room despite her age or how her bones were beginning to creak. She was a formidable one, he deduced, as were all Hyuga her age. With a brief gesture of her chin, her two attendants fell back and out of the room, closing the door as they departed. They left the woman staring at him with those unblinking, unfilled eyes.
They unnerved him. The Hyuga eyes had continued to unnerve him since his days as a boy.
They were unnatural.
He should feel offended that she had yet to give him a greeting or a bow, but he was sure that she was offended by him remaining seated. Very well, he conceded. They were at an impasse. Except, of course, even when losing, the Hyuga never truly lost. The elder was standing, but it seemed like she was standing above him, looking down on him.
He swallowed a sardonic comment and replaced it with, "How may I help you, honourable elder?"
The woman narrowed her eyes. "Sarcasm does not become you, Hatake."
He didn't flinch, but daaamn did he want to.
"Forgive me," he mumbled, albeit half-heartedly.
The elder accepted it for what it was: forced manners. Resisting the urge to scold him, for he had never been brought up by polite society, she ploughed on. "You have seen this month's accounts?"
Kakashi blanked his expression and did not look down to the papers currently sitting innocently, and mockingly, on his desk. "You must forgive me, honourable elder—but who are you?"
The woman didn't even blink when returning, just as prompt and blunt, if not in a refined way, "Hitomi Hyuga."
The name drew a blank in his mind, but she didn't bother to explain. He knew then that he should know who she was. He hated reviewing all the clan records, especially one as long and dynastic as the Hyuga, but he hated even more to be caught off-guard in his own office in his own village. He was supposed to be her leader, but he felt like a boy being scolded for cheating on a test.
He mentally berated himself for the image. "Yes," he said, as if he knew who she was all along, "Lady Hitomi." Her forehead was unmarked; she was from the Main Branch and was automatically accorded the title of "lady." He hoped to every deity in existence that he hadn't screwed himself over. "How may I help you?"
Bless her, Lady Hitomi didn't even twitch at his incompetent play at being competent. She didn't even think much of it, filing it away for later contemplation. Not taking her eyes off him, she repeated, "The village's accounts. You have read them, yes?"
Kakashi avoided her eyes like a naughty little boy. "I may have had the chance to review them…"
"And?" The elder raised an imperious brow.
He really shouldn't feel intimidated or inept, but daaaamn the Hyuga knew how to be snooty aristocrats. "I found them… satisfying."
"By 'satisfying,' do you mean the countless missing ryō from our treasury?" She did not snip; she didn't have to. The Hyuga could be harsh without sounding it, and the receiver of their words and looks always felt it as hard and effective as a punch in the gut or a slap across the face.
Kakashi wanted to rub his cheek all of a sudden. "Lady Hitomi, I assure you-"
"Our department of finance is incompetent," she stated.
He was floored. He knew the Hyuga could be blunt, but daaamn could they offend a whole institution with a single comment. He didn't know how to react. Not only had she insulted a respected department of their honourable village, but she had also insulted him for not overseeing the department proficiently enough. By insulting him, she had insulted the village for appointing him as their Rokudaime. The insult was endless.
Kakashi narrowed his eyes and straightened his shoulders. He could not condone this. He had a reputation to upkeep, albeit a less-than-stellar reputation, but a reputation nevertheless—he would not have his village insulted in front of him, not even by a respected member of their society.
"Lady Hitomi," he spoke, polite and decisive, "if that is all you have to say-"
"I have a recommendation for you," she cut him off again.
SHE WAS MIND-BOGGLING. He struggled for words or even a complete thought. He was clearly not up to par with her in terms of verbal sparring. After a lifetime of shinobi service, prided as one of the most gifted in his generation with an impeccable ANBU record and coming out of the war as an international hero… Kakashi Hatake was being beaten by an old biddy!
He was without a reply as the elder drew out a file from her sleeves and placed them on his desk, on top of the error-filled financial statements.
"She has an immaculate record," the Lady Hitomi said, cool and with a certitude that had him reaching for the file already, "and respectable references."
Kakashi was about to open the file when she stopped him.
"I only ask," she said, a request with a small amount feeling.
Again, he was thrown.
Hyugas did not—should not—feel.
"That you allow her to finish her schooling from a distance," Lady Hitomi said.
"Schooling?" He raised a doubtful brow. No department should employ a child—except, of course, the shinobi forces. It was different, he argued. This woman was beyond frustrating.
"You will see in her files that she is currently attending university," she continued, unruffled by his ill-mannered reaction. "She may be young, Lord Hokage, but we are a village dependent on the young."
For once in their harrowing conversation, Kakashi wasn't speechless out of offense or surprise, but was speechless because of the truth.
He lifted his hands from the file respectfully and nodded. "Very well, I will take a look at it."
Lady Hitomi nodded. "Good day, Lord Hokage."
"Good day, Lady Hitomi."
xxx
That had been two weeks ago. He had spent the day reading over the file, and the next two days finding the recommendation's records in the Konoha clan files. The girl's history stopped only with the Hyuga; he hadn't wanted to contact Lady Hitomi for them, but he understood enough from the papers he had that the girl was capable.
More than capable, but that did not mean she would be able to cope in their village.
He hadn't been sure if she would be strong enough to overcome her tragedy.
He refused to view it as a dishonour.
He refused to be a Hyuga.
However, time hadn't been on his side, hadn't allowed him the pleasantry to think it over for a few more days, for the trade department had lost an account. Konoha had lost a trading partner. It had galled him and gutted the council. They had been both furious and frightened.
He had nearly strangled the minister of trade to death, and it would've been a battle too. Not an epic battle, not when the minister had only been a chunin, but it would still had been a battle nonetheless.
Had been minister.
He and the council had fired the man.
After a huge affair of calling security to kick the man out and a massive debate over who should replace him, Kakashi had, in a bout of panic and desperation, drew up a scroll requesting Lady Hitomi's recommendation to—please, please, pretty please come and work for the village because they really, really, really needed someone who could work a Profit and Loss sheet properly and recommend a suitable price for rice without the villagers going up in flames in protest and revolution.
He was exaggerating, of course, but it hadn't felt like it at the time.
But that had been a good week and a half ago, and still he hadn't received a reply from the girl. He should feel insulted, but clearly he was more desperate for her than she was for him. He felt almost like a silly suitor on his knees with a bouquet of roses.
Perhaps he had made a mistake?
Kakashi rubbed his forehead and sighed, staring out from the Hokage Tower to the familiar faces carved into the Hokage Monument. He barely winced when he took in his own face. It had been a year now, and he had slowly grown accustomed to it. At least the sculptor had gotten his good side.
He smiled ruefully at his own joke, and wanted to continue the light discourse when there came a polite knock on the door. He was beginning to dread the polite knocks; they disguised the bad news that came through his door at every hour of every day.
He needed help.
"Lord Hokage." Raido opened the door. "Team Guy is here to see you."
Kakashi adjusted his hat and with a nod, he complied, "Let them in."
He made his way to his desk as Team Guy entered his office. Once again, he was glad that Guy was away on a B-rank mission, a perfect task he had been saving for such an occasion. He did not think he could place himself in another situation filled with exuberant rants on the "power of youth" coupled with unexpected, yet predictable, challenges to prove said "youth."
Kakashi could admit that he was old, goddamn it, and he didn't need to prove otherwise.
From his desk, he looked to Rock Lee, Tenten, and then, finally, Neji Hyuga.
Yes, he predicted, it would be better not to expose the girl to Might Guy… not yet.
Again, he debated whether or not this was a good decision, but with the trade department in a rut, the accounting floor being stubborn, and the treasury feeling slighted, Kakashi needed someone in his corner and on the side of the village.
He needed someone to fix the finance department.
It was harder than it seemed.
If Konoha needed a ninja, they had plenty: aged 12-100, genin, chunin, jounin, ANBU, Root. Men and women. Those with kekkei genkai and those who specialized in ninjustsu, genjustsu, taijustsu, torture, interrogation, manipulation, poison, healing, weaponry. Hell, the village had him, and he would to anything for their home and country.
But Konoha didn't need a ninja right now.
Konoha needed someone with a sound head and honourable intentions. It would also help if they were prudent and rational in their decision making. Kakashi hoped to GOD she was prudent and rational. Especially rational.
"I have a mission for you," Kakashi said to Team Guy, handing the file directly to Neji. He looked to the Hyuga, grave and pointed. "I think it might be someone you know…"
He allowed the Hyuga to open the file and watched, with both hope and trepidation, as the Hyuga broke composure, eyes wide and pallor paling.
Konoha needed a civilian.
xxx
the point
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