Coushander
コウシャンデル

.

.

Chapter 7
Way In the Middle of the Air

.

.

"Watch this!" said Jiraiya early one morning.

Sakumo stifled a yawn under the blue curtain of dawn, waiting to unveil a bright yellow orb. With lazy eyes, he saw Konohagakure over the mountain faces as dull, quiet, and lifeless, without lights and void of movement. "…What am I supposed to be seeing?" he asked.

"Quiet!" he shushed. "Now…" The boy cast a watchful eye on the dim horizon. "Now! Hokage!" he commanded. "Wake up!"

Sakumo's eyes went to the tower below.

A light came on.

Then several.

Sakumo blinked. "Wow."

"And now! Council people! Up and at 'em!"

Sakumo looked farther to his right where, all on cue, lights came on in the adjoining buildings. "Wait—how did you…?"

"Konoha!" he orchestrated. "Wake up!"

Sure enough, the local businesses of the downtown lighted suddenly like fireflies. The academy lit up through it's windows and all of Konoha stirred, like a great machine starting to churn. "Jiraiya…" Sakumo awed. "Since when did you…?" he trailed, watching the scene.

The boy grinned. "Isn't that cool?" he said. "Nidai! Come outside!" he urged.

Eagerly, Sakumo looked down in anticipation. Within seconds, the white-haired, tattooed hokage stepped outside, looked out across the streets, and admired the start of the morning. A flood of yellow came to tide the wave of blue, and it came scattering across the eastern sky where the sun rose up once again.

"Wow," the teen remarked again. "You really have a gift," he said, smiling. His younger brother beamed. Sakumo looked at him, "Just don't turn me into a toad or something, ok?"

Jiraiya grinned. "Hey, you know? I can see my house from here," he pointed towards the light of the east. "Sakumo," he suddenly asked, "Where do you live?"

"Me?" thought Sakumo. He scanned the tops of the buildings. He pointed to the west. "Over there. With the grey top, I think."

The boy swung his gaze and looked on with interest.

"Jiraiya," said Sakumo. "…Don't you have class today?"

The boy cringed like a fallen leaf.

"I think you should get going," Sakumo said.

"Oh…ok," he said with a morose glare.

"Do your best," his ani smiled in return.

"…Yes sir!" He stood and saluted his brother before dashing off.

Sakumo spent another couple minutes gazing out across the village. The magic may have receded, but the activity had not. Smells and sounds, and even dust was rising in the air in a placid fashion. He came down after some effort of conscience, taking the long way to get to the missions' office. So…it wasn't his fault that he headed down the familiar paths he'd traveled some odd years ago—or at least so he told himself…

It was off the right, just outside a building where he saw a familiar figure talking with a familiar man. Sakumo's first instinct was to pass them by. Quickly. He avoided eye contact upon the recognition of the older figure, but the grey-haired man had already noticed. The teen shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking until the man called out his name.

His second instinct encouraged him to keep walking, fast—he won't catch up with you, Sakumo thought. You're a full-fledged shinobi now. You can out run him. It's not that hard. But instead, he let out a low sigh in annoyance. It did little to quell the bother it presented. There was little that Sakumo thought needed to be said between them, because, after all, when you're fifteen, you think you know everything. So what could a man like that want will a self-sufficient shinobi like himself? Nothing, Sakumo answered.

The teen straightened rigidly, ready to face him back to the fields with narrowed eyes. But as Sakumo turned around, his stare went grounded as the man walked forward with a slight limp. He had no explanation for this, nor for the bandages that were wound down his left arm to the fingers. As the man came to within yards, his face, the visible part, had changed. He looked older. The stern stubbornness behind his eyes was a softened grey submission. His hair was longer in the back, and unkempt in the front. What little command he had left was diverted to that over his physical condition. He looked haggard, and focused, for once. "Sakumo," he said again. His voice was quiet. "May I speak with you?"

Cautiously, Sakumo nodded.

The eldest Hatake had not far to look down. The boy was not far off to match him now, and he suspected, give another five years, he would. The older man admired the black eyes he once knew. "Sakumo…" he said plainly, "I'm dying."

It was not a trifle word.

Simultaneously, the air felt cold, as the teen swayed in place with the seriousness the small word had suddenly procured.

Sakumo had seen it. He'd seen it on the battlefields that were otherwise ordinary fields. Death marked it as a struggle. He'd seen it in the valleys where the body could not survive against gangrene and open infection. He had seen it as symbols along the roads and villages as monuments to the next ten generations that some favors came with too high a price. He'd seen it in med stations where men whispered final adieus under their breath to loved ones on the other side of the world. But never had he seen it walk up to him so calmly.

"I do not expect your sympathy," the man said. "Nor do I want it. I only wanted you to know."

His boy was silent.

Coushander averted his eyes; he turned, but Sakumo found the will to ask, "…What…of…?"

The eldest's eyes returned to the ground. "You may not believe me…if I told you," he said.

Sakumo's shrug was a mere twitch. "Try me."

The man considered this. "…Fine," he said. "I'll see you this afternoon," He started off.

"…Wait, where?"

"You'll know."

Sakumo saw him depart, and he squinted in outright confusion as an incipient emotion invaded him; one that bore the frightful name of empathy. It was fragile in him yet, but it was there, coming to pang gently around his eyes and heart as Sakumo watched the man struggle with an obvious pain he knew nothing of.

.

Sakumo went straight to the missions' office where he found his proud, double-nickels captain buried behind a terrible stack of paperwork. Dalzen was not very happy assessing the current formations—in fact, he grunted something mysteriously low when the door opened. But Dalzen quickly reverted to a lighter mood when he saw his student.

The man already had an idea, though, as to what could have brought him here. For that reason, his expression evened out in monotone, awaiting what the boy had to say—or ask.

"…Can I help?" the teen inquired.

Dalzen smiled. "Oh come now. You'll die a premature death of this shit," he shook his head in front of the towering files and pointed a finger. "It is a 'necessary evil' they say," Dalzen flailed, "It's a joke," he declared. "A very good and damnable joke," He digressed. "So! What brings you here to the dungeon?"

The teen returned the smile. "Well…I was just wondering…" he began with uncertainty.

"Hm?"

"Well…would you like some help?"

Dalzen laughed. "Sakumo, you're too magnanimous—but I fear there is an ulterior motive behind your offer. Out with it."

"Well…" Sakumo shifted. "It's about…"

"Is it about your father?"

He blinked. "How did you know—?"

"I know," Dalzen said seriously. "And that's enough for now. Sakumo I can work you on a shift here in the mornings. Though as you can see, it's ghastly work," he added seriocomically.

"I'll take it," Sakumo agreed.

"Fine then—Pass me that ink bottle; I put sake in it…"

.

The well of darkness diminished with the first rays of light that greeted the teen upon exit. A headache was now in the gentle process of healing with the aid of the open air. What a dungeon indeed.

Sakumo's first instinct was to go to the house, but only wasted time in a fruitless effort. There was no one there. He re-tracked his steps from earlier in the morning, but he could not find the eldest or the flittering Kosaka. Class from the academy would be getting out, so his body let him to where Jiraiya called home.

He went straight down the path, taking Jiraiya's route, turning right, where the streets ended, and he walked down along the dirt path about a quarter of a mile.

His first view of the house was from behind. And as Sakumo came closer, he saw a man was standing out front and within a matter of seconds, a sprig of betrayal moved into the teen's soul when he saw Jiraiya hanging about the unmasked man, tugging on his robe; a bright, careless expression on his face.

.