Before heading out, Hanzō donned his undershirt and flak jacket. Shiori's eyes, overcome by his raw masculinity, retreated to her feet in a vain attempt to conceal her fierce blush. Hanzō, having finished long before she dared look up, took the opportunity to study her. What was this sudden modesty? She certainly didn't seem to mind others watching her naked. Could it be his scar? Hanzō had lived with it so long, he hardly considered it a cause for aversion. "Come, Shiori," Hanzō commanded softly, extending his arm towards her. Shiori looked up, and taking his motion as an invitation, took his arm in hers, placing her hands lightly on his forearm. It must not be aversion then, thought Hanzō pleased.
"Shiori, what did you learn today?"
Shiori's lips tilted upward in a sideways smile. "That I have two chakra natures, fire and earth, but apparently I don't know how to stand properly. That I can hit a bulls eye from 30 yards with no trouble, but can't hold a kunai to literally save my life. I knew this wouldn't be easy or an overnight transformation, but I'm worried that by missing out on a childhood of training, I've lost my chance of becoming a kunoichi entirely."
"It's true. You won't ever reach your full potential because you've started so late. The Leaf wasted a valuable opportunity."
"Hanzō, you're supposed to comfort me and tell me I'm wrong."
"I promised you honesty."
"I will allow you to take it back."
"However," Hanzō continued, ignoring the offer, "you'll be able to grasp enough for your own protection should you ever need it."
Shiori squeezed his arm in mock annoyance. "Protection? That's what I married you for."
"I don't have time to play bodyguard."
"I'd make it worth your while. I live a very exciting life."
"I know that all too well," recalling the series of "exciting" events that had led her to his doorstep. There truly never was a dull moment with her. She transformed even this mundane walk home into the most fun he'd had since . . . well, since he'd dined with her last evening.
"I digress," she sighed, changing the subject, "it's just . . . the more I learn, the less I realize I actually know. I have questions so fundamental, I'm embarrassed to ask them."
"Ask me," Hanzō suggested.
"Well . . . this isn't one exactly, but now I'm curious. Hanzō, what is your chakra nature?"
"I have two. Fire, like yours, and water."
"Does that mean you have a kekkei genkai as well?"
"No. I am not able to combine the two elements to create any special abilities. However," he said, motioning toward his waist, "some consider my poison abilities a kekkei genkai of sorts."
An image of Hanzō's scar resurrected itself in Shiori's mind. Before she could decide whether or not to push the line of inquiry, they were approached by a small crowd. Two men, and what appeared to be their mother stopped before Hanzō and Shiori, blocking their path.
Hanzō's brows raised in interest and caution. It wasn't every day commoners would address him on the street. Usually, they bowed and parted ways.
"Good evening Lord Hanzō and my lady," the woman spoke as she and her sons bowed in unison. "We would like to welcome you, Lady Shiori, to Amegakure. Please accept these," she said, extending a bag of nikuman, "as a welcome gift."
"Thank you," she bowed with perfect ease, accustomed to receiving similar gifts. "I'm enchanted already with Amegakure's hospitality. Are you chefs?"
"Yes, my sons and I recently opened the restaurant you see here, after moving from the countryside."
"Our village was destroyed," one of the men silent until now piped up, "but I believe you captured and dealt this those responsible, Lord Hanzō. Thank you," he bowed.
Hanzō didn't say a word, but nodded slightly in acknowledgement. Shiori noticed that not one of the three had yet looked Hanzō in the eyes.Were his subjects afraid of him? Even so, they also appeared deeply grateful. Hanzō may be vilified everywhere else in the world, Shiori reminded herself, but here, he is their hero. And she couldn't help but feel a little proud associating with him. As the son spoke, Shiori lifted a bun from the bag and sampled daintily.
"These," she gasped, a bright smile spreading across her face, "are the best I've ever tasted!"
The group of chefs looked at her with pleasure and excitement. "Really?! Did you hear that, mother? We'll have to tell everyone!"
"Thank you, my lady!" Bowing profusely, the group took off to spread the word of Shiori's endorsement. Long after they'd passed out of sight, Hanzō and Shiori could hear their excited voices bragging to all that would listen.
"I hope you weren't lying back there, Shiori."
"They all taste the same to me," she sang, finishing the last bite of her first bun. "These might as well be the best. Would you like some? We can save them for later."
Hanzō simply shook his head. "No."
Shiori walked beside him quietly for a time, debating how to proceed. On one hand, she would like to learn more about his scar. At the same time, she didn't want to badger him with questions before he trusted her. And she also didn't want to reawaken what must be painful memories, judging from the deep scar blazoned across his abdomen.
"I don't expect you to confide in me now, but one day I hope you'll consider telling me the story of how this," she motioned to his waist, "came to be."
Hanzō glanced down at her. Honestly, he was surprised she'd waited so long to ask. "How 'this' came to be is something that concerns only me, my family, and select associates. However, since you meet those criteria now, I will tell you all you need to know. My family's farm was destroyed in the civil war, leaving us destitute. Fortunately, at the same time there was a single black salamander in my village that produced this deadly toxin. I was a kid when it died. The village wanted to use its venom sac as a weapon for protection. Needing a child to experiment on, they approached my parents promising to forgive our debts in exchange for my body." Shiori looked at him in alarm.
"What choice did we have?" Hanzo continued. "I took the salamander's venom sac and implanted it in my body, right here," Hanzō pointed to his waist. "All to give myself resistance to poison and make my body itself toxic. I can envenomate nearby people just by breathing on them." For a moment, Hanzō was transported to his childhood. The villager's horrified faces became as visible to him as if they were standing before him now. "They were terrified of me . . . a kid. To keep people around me safe, I had to start breathing through this mask." Hanzō shook his head to shake the phantoms away. "That is all you need to know for now."
Shiori walked along in silent shock. The story she'd just heard was far worse than any grim fairy tale her nursemaids had recited to keep her in line. She couldn't fathom the degree of hardship necessary to drive a parent to consent to such unnatural, life-threatening experimentation on their child. "Your parents . . . I can't imagine how desperate they must have felt . . . and how guilty they feel now."
Hanzō tensed. "They are not your concern," he snapped.
Sensing she'd struck a nerve, Shiori didn't inquire further. Hanzō's past explained the chilly greeting he'd given his parents when he introduced her to them. His relationship with them had to be strained, at the very least. Still, he must have some regard for them to support them as he did. Or perhaps it was all for appearance's sake. Shiori filed the information away in her mind, a puzzle to solve for another day.
The two walked in silence as Hanzō's latent anger began to stir. The problem of Hanzō's parents was one he hoped if he ignored would go away. He supported them but saw them rarely. He supposed he should thank them though; after all, their choice to sacrifice him had become the cornerstone in his budding empire. Still, their betrayal had cut deep, as his scar reminded him daily, and some wounds never healed.Especially ones he didn't want to be healed. Hanzō pushed them from his mind by changing the subject.
"Rika. What do you think of her?"
"She's . . . friendly and patient. Thank you for asking her to train me."
"I didn't. Kanzo selected her. She was not my first choice, but you will learn more than you ever wanted to know about Amegakure from her."
"What do you mean?" Shiori's brows furrowed in curiosity.
"Rika was orphaned at a young age and forced into becoming a child solider until Kanzo intervened. When he found her, she had no sense of morality and would kill on command without hesitation. What they did to her and forced her to do, I don't want to know. But what I will tell you is that the person you see today is only a performance. Rika lost her humanity long ago. Trust her only to the extent she's under the direct orders of Kanzo. Ignore everything else. Rika has no ability to assess risks. I doubt she would even realize if she was putting your life or hers in danger. Or if she'd even care."
Shiori's eyes widened in horror. This portrait of Rika seemed irreconcilable with the cheerful girl she'd stretched with this morning. "The rebel groups used Rika as a child solider? Is such a thing . . . common?"
"Look around you."
As Shiori turned her head to capture the panoramic of the streets, small shadows shifted under the lights, along the buildings. "Children? Are they-"
"Orphans as well. After water and iron, they're Amegakure's third largest resource. Thousands flee to the city as refugees. Those that aren't as lucky are recruited to fight in the countryside."
"What's being done to prevent this? Surely there is some haven, some system in place for their protection?"
"There is nothing besides the kindness of a few strangers."
For a second time, the two lapsed into silence, this time, with Shiori in deep concentration. Her concern for Rika was overshadowed by the realization of an even larger problem. "Hanzō, as long as there are this many orphans in Amegakure, there will always be civil war. With so many in the city, I can't fathom how many there must be in the countryside. And if they're all recruited by rebel forces . . . you face generations of warfare."
"And that, Shiori, is the history of Amegakure. All that can be done is to eliminate them along with the rebels that recruit them. Not everyone can be salvaged like Rika."
"And so the history of Amegakure repeats itself again."
"If you have a better suggestion, I'm all ears," Hanzō's eyes narrowed dangerously. The plight of Amegakure's people, he realized, was his most pressing problem. In the end, if he didn't have civilian backing, winning on the battlefront would be meaningless. If he couldn't support his people, he didn't deserve to call them his own. Not knowing what to do, he had delegated the problem to others and poured his effort into ending the civil warfare. That at least was something he knew he could handle.
Shiori again lost herself as an idea took root in her mind. Perhaps this was the opportunity she'd been looking for to help Hanzō and the Leaf.And herself. Hanzō was a dangerous man. If he became stronger, he'd pose a greater threat to the Leaf. On the other hand, a strong Amegakure would make it difficult for surrounding nations like Suna to invade Konoha. There was also the fact that Shiori's safety and power were now directly linked with Hanzō. By helping him rein in rebel resistance, she would ultimately boost herself as well. And if she held sway, perhaps she could use it to protect Konoha from abroad.
However, if she was going to rise with Hanzō, she needed to start somewhere. Other than a few servants in the main house, Shiori didn't have much commanding authority over anyone in Amegakure. Hanzō needed to delegate it to her. She would need to start small; to make him trust her in smaller things so that gradually she could win his faith completely. Taking on the project of Amegakure's orphans would be an excellent start. It would both appear harmless and place the labor of countless laborers and villagers in her hands. Shiori knew nothing about children, but with assistance, she could learn anything. Finally, if she proved herself successful, perhaps Hanzō would entrust more to her.Everyone wins. "If I told you I did have a suggestion, would you let me try it?"
"If you'd like to take on this project, it's yours. Just don't get your hopes up too high." Hanzō didn't think she could make much difference, but was pleased to see Shiori begin to care for Amegakure. "You cannot save them all."
"No," Shiori smiled, satisfied by his easy acceptance, "but I have a feeling we can save more than one Rika." With that, Hanzō and Shiori reached home. Shiori was exhausted but energized by the prospect of having a project all to herself. "Would you like to discuss details now?" Shiori asked before a yawn escaped her mouth.
"Not tonight. I have matters to attend to, and you need rest after today."
"Then I'll bid you goodnight here," Shiori bowed, slightly disappointed that their time together had been so brief. "Thank you for entrusting me with this."
"Then I'll leave it in your hands." Reflexively, Hanzō placed his hand on her soft head. Already he regretted sending her away. The hours of planning and briefing that lay ahead of him that night weren't nearly as inviting as the prospect of another evening with Shiori. There had never been time for a woman in Hanzō's life, but now that he was stuck with this one, he needed to fit her in somewhere. No, he admitted to himself, he didn't need to. He could easily block her out as he did his parents. He wanted to fit her in his life. "In the evenings when I'm dining, you can report your progress to me and let me know what you need."
"As you wish," Shiori grinned.
Parting ways, Hanzō balled his fists as if to carry the feel of her hair with him into the night.