iv. Prochirality
"I have grave news." The Sandaime Hokage's face was lined with sorrow. "Senju Mito-sama is no longer with us."
Every person present in the circular meeting room seemed to stop breathing.
"She died last night," he continued, his hands clasped behind his back. For once, Sarutobi-sama did not look at anyone, lost in his own memories and grief. "The funeral rites will be performed according to her last wish: in the circle of her family and closest friends. A ceremony shall be held in which every member of Leaf's shinobi is able to participate and any civilian who wishes to pay his or her respects."
He sighed quietly, his voice wavering only then. "With her, Hidden Leaf has lost her last living connection to her Founders."
The respectful silence hung heavy. Minato lowered his head, remembering the tall, breath-catchingly beautiful woman who had been the wife of the First Fire Shadow. She had looked so young, when he had once caught a glimpse at her form, despite being older than the village herself. Senju Mito had kept to herself, especially in the last years, and to many shinobi of Minato's age was more a legend than a living person.
Now she was dead.
A movement behind the Hokage caught his attention. He strained his eyes, but in the half-dark behind the lectern, he couldn't discern anything.
"All of us here," Sarutobi-sama continued, "Knew what a burden Mito-sama carried. What responsibility she took upon herself to save the village, and to ensure her and our well-being."
Rustling from the rows of chairs told of the fact that not too few people were quite worried for exactly that reason. Minato, very much aware of the implications Mito-sama's death was having, sat perfectly still.
"She sealed away the kyuubi for more than ninety years. While she hailed from Uzushiogakure's Uzumaki, who were and are blessed with an exceptionally long life, it soon became clear that she wouldn't be able to contain the nine-tailed beast forever. A potential successor was chosen long ago, with Mito-sama's blessing, for her unique abilities and exceptional chakra control. In fact, she has been the host vessel for the kyuubi for quite some time now. I apologize for the deception, but it was necessary in order to keep her safe. Esteemed council members: meet Uzumaki Kushina."
Mutely, Minato watched as the small figure that had been standing behind Sarutobi-sama's chair straightened and stepped forward, into the light. Her red hair caught the steady flames of the lamps and blazed up. Around him, the council room erupted in chaos.
There was something in Uzumaki Kushina that made Minato feel small and unimportant when she faced him. Even after hours of discussion among the councilmen, to which she hadn't said much and hadn't been asked for her opinion but hadn't been offered a chair, either, she stood in the same straight posture and faced the Council like a charged criminal faced a jury. It was strange, he reflected, how her secret had been able to remain undiscovered for such a long time. Especially since her former team mates seemed to know about it. All three of them had apparently refused to let her step in front of the council alone, for they stood behind her in a tight, protective circle. One time one of them had spoken up, sharply, acidic, when a particularly nasty comment had made Kushina and Minato both flinch, and had been silenced by one glance of hers. Minato knew they were tensed in icy anticipation, ready to defend her from whatever accusations might arise and from every possible harm that might befall her on the orders of the Council. He was fiercely glad Kushina had a team like that, because he was incapable of doing anything for her. He would make sure, he vowed silently, that they would stay together. But then, her secret-that-wasn't-a-secret-anymore. Sarutobi-sama had known about it, and Homura-sama and Kohane-sama, of course. Judging from the faces of the people and the varying degree of surprise when the story had first been told, some Clan Heads had known about it, as well, at least the Nara and the Yamanaka. Quite possibly some of the anger that was being vented right now was due to the fact that some people had been considered worthy being told something like that, and some (like the Hyuugas, Minato noted with a little flash of amusement) had not been. He could relate. It had been a secret that had been important enough to keep to a close circle of people, a secret of vital importance for the safety of Hidden Leaf. But it had poisoned the air. Secrets generally did: they hid important facts and, when revealed, caused arguments and discussions. They riled people up and revealed them at their weakest and/or most ugly. ANd they always hurt someone, not seldom the one who had been drawn into them without his or her own volition: it was the worst he could imagine. People getting hurt because they offered to sacrifice something. It was Kushina who was bearing the whole shitload of crap that was now being tossed at her that, ultimately, had nothing to do with her. Kushina was the one bearing the hate and injustice and anger stoically, showing none of the hurt and pain that she had to bee feeling, and Minato resented it.
Then and there, he decided he hated secrets even more than he hated his title. He didn't hate her, though.
Kushina's back was straight and her eyes cool as she faced a room of people who were trying to blast holes into her wall. They were shouting, arguing and accusing, generally doing everything to test her reaction under duress, to find a reason - any, any reason whatsoever - why she was not suited to be the vessel of the kyuubi. Kushina did not crack. She wore a plain skirt and an emerald top. Perhaps she had chosen it deliberately, because both her hands were hidden in the fabric of the wide sleeves. Her voice was eerily calm and quiet as she answered the myriad of questions concerning her emotional and physical state, her heritage, her training and her current status as kunoichi. And yet it projected into the row the furthest from her. Minato couldn't help himself: the sight made him angry. Not because she was calm. But because he couldn't understand how the Council could make her do this: it was worse than an interrogation. Kushina's heritage and childhood her abilities, even her loyalty – everything was dragged out into the harsh light of the room. Her family, her home, how she had come to Leaf. That day, Minato learned all the things about Kushina that had been blackened out in her file. In hindsight, he would have been happier not knowing.
…
He'd known she was an Uzushio orphan. He hadn't realized it could be even worse.
…
The string of questions didn't seem to end. Kushina bore it steadfastly while Minato watched her, trembling with something he couldn't define. He didn't take his eyes of her, but she didn't look into his direction even once. Was she avoiding him deliberately? He couldn't tell.
"Tell us, Uzumaki Kushina," the Clan Head of the Hyuuga finally lifted his voice, and people around Minato relaxed visibly, correctly guessing it would be the last question. "You have shown us you are remotely intelligent and sensible. Your fighting abilities are above average, though enhanced by the kyuubi's chakra, of course, and you have assured us of your loyalty. Still, why should you be the one to bear the kyuubi and not someone else?"
Something flashed over Kushina's face, too fast for Minato to decipher it.
"I have proven my loyalty to Hidden Leaf more than once," she said coolly. "I have fought for you, using the kyuubi's strength, and I have fought the kyuubi for you. Why do I think I should be the one to carry it? Are you really asking me that?"
Minato's neighbor leaned forward, his eyes glued to the woman, as if she were a spectacle he could not bear to miss any second of. Minato wanted to punch him in the face. Kushina continued.
"I am the bearer of the kyuubi, Hyuuga-san, because I have the long-levity of my now-extinguished clan and its exceptional chakra control. I agreed to carry the ninetails because my great-grandmother loved this village, and wanted to protect it, and because I honor her wish. You heard me correctly: she asked me to do this. She did not force me. I have been living in this village since I turned five, because you decided you needed a vessel for the kyuubi once my great-grandmother would no longer suffice your purposes. Mito-oobasan always regarded Hidden Leaf as her home. But it is not mine, nor have you made me feel particularly welcome here though there have been people who have been good to me."
Her gaze wandered the room, looking at every council member individually.
"You want someone else to be the kyuubi's vessel? Be my guest. I did not want to be what I am right now, nor would I willingly remain here if I was given the chance to leave. But when it comes to the question who else should carry the kyuubi, Hyuuga-sama, esteemed council members: would anyone of you put forward your children or grand-children as the ninetail's future vessel?"
Silence greeted her.
Minato was hit by how small Kushina seemed, even when she stood tall. She did not have her great-grandmother's stature, but her red hair marked her clearly. He wondered what the council members saw: did they see the fire in her eyes, or the exhaustion in her shoulders? Defiance or defeat? Now that he knew what secret she was hiding Minato saw many of their old differences in an entirely new light. Had she always known why she had been taken from her family and had been brought to Leaf? How long had she known? Had she carried the weight of this burden all by herself, all this time? The thought alone made him want to break something. The Council remained silent. Minato would have sworn that at least Hyuuga Hisoka would put his second son or one niece of another nephew of his wide-spread clan forward as volunteers, but even he was quiet. Of course, he thought with growing bitterness, none of them wanted their own children to carry the cursed kyuubi. Kushina, on the other hand, was an outsider. Was it that, really, the only reason being this latent nationalism? Or the fierce Will of the Fire that told everyone to protect their children at all costs? Even if they did not understand the depth of the burden Kushina carried – not even Minato could understand it completely – did some small part of them actually anticipate the sadness, grief and never-ending battle that came with being the kyuubi's host? Did they, looking at Kushina, somehow guess the ostracism she had suffered just because she was different, and wanted to save their own children from it? Maybe. Either way, Minato had no ounce of pity for them. Here were the most influential men in the entire country of Fire, and they were loading their responsibility onto the shoulders of a barely eighteen-year-old girl.
Detestable.
And the worst was that Minato was the same.
