Red Flag

Shikamaru walked through the crowded city, taking notice of more than what his conscious mind was capable of keeping up with, luckily enough, fucked up Nara as he was, he instinctively linked elements that appeared completely separated, from the high pitched voice of a woman that offered a particular brand of perfume to a man in tatters, to the slight frown that often appeared for a single instant on the face of many that spotted his hitai-ate, to the way in which the akasen children seemed to scatter from their position once an elderly man hammered the bottom of his sandal against a section of the cobbled road.

There was no reason whatsoever for Shikamaru to feel like he was walking into a trap.

Then why does it feel like I'm the bottom of someone's joke? He grimaced as he turned his head towards his officer commander: "Are you sure it's okay to..."

"The Uzumaki will be handled by our people," Hatake replied without moving his gaze away from the courier the duo of Konoha-nin had been following for the past hour, "if the target doubles back once more, we'll assume that he's paid to act as a diversion, and we'll need to figure out who holds the string of his purse."

"When you say handled..."

The flat stare that the Nara received made him grimace as he returned his focus on the mission, which had luckily just had a development: "He wasn't a diversion."

"No, it doesn't appear so."

"I'll enter openly," Shikamaru opted, "can you look around?"

"You're choosing this plan only because this way you won't have to run around." Kakashi flatly accused the young Nara, who shrugged as an answer.

"I'm his student, but I'm still me." he snickered as he followed the man he had been tailing for the previous hour. He had just joined another before quickly ducking in a side alley. With a seamless application of chakra, Shikamaru duked briefly, as if he had to pick up something from the gorund, and in his place a burly, bald man rose, his eyes of a clear blue and his hands calloused by the many years spent as a carpenter.

He follwed in the alley and nodded to a man that was clearly placed as a sentry of sorts before finally entering what he realized was an empty warehouse.

Inside the large space, there were roughly 50 civilians muttering to each other and exchanging nervous glances even as they gave hard pats on the back of people that they occasionally recognized. The presence of actual red flags made his hackles rise. Not only that, there were strips of red cloth being given freely on oe side of the warehouse.

To a distracted eye, the sight would be strange, but ultimately uninteresting, to Shikamaru's eye, however, the people appeared blatantly on edge, almost as if they were about to...

"Thank you for joining us!" a thunderous voice made everyone turn towards one side of the warehouse, where a man was standing over an upturned wooden box. Immediately, everybody quieted down, as if eager to hear the words of the man. Shikamaru saw the way they clenched their fists, the way in which they squared their shoulders, as if waiting for orders.

"You all know why you're here!"

Oh shit. Shikamaru thought, immediately starting to think about a way to deescalate the situation, when his eyes focused once more on the grim faces of the everyday Joes around him. Nervous droplets of sweat on their foreheads and slightly too heavy breaths told him that many were just shy of being tipsy, likely they had drunk something just before going to the warehouse.

"Too long we've had to fear knives in the dark!"

Some of the men around Shikamaru answered the man with raised fists that shook with rage, other outright shouted a wordless scream to express their agreement.

"Too long we've had to wonder if someone with a large enough purse would buy off our lives! Too long their wars have plagued us, made us feel hunger and fear! Too long, we have seen the understanding of our world break the will of our sons and daughters! Now they've stopped to deliver food to the ones in need so that they can spend it to fuel their wars!"

This is so bad... The Nara's eyes darted around, considering what would happen were he to try and speak against the man busy rallying the people in the warehouse. When the first punch flies, my cover is blown, and their fears about shinobi will all but be confirmed, I'd only add fuel to the fire.

"They have even closed down the House of the Rising Sun! Those books are being withdrawn from the market, the copies found are being taken away, the owners have to pay a fine, or are paid less than a tenth of their value when they're returned freely! What will come next? What else will they take? What will they do when we say no?" the man at the other side of the warehouse shouted, "They'll kill us! That's the only thing they're capable of! But what will they eat when we no longer sow their fields? When food rots in the silos and doesn't get treated nor transported across the country? What will they do, when the city and the Fire Lord will see his own forces strike down the helpless people he is sworn to rule fairly?"

Shikamaru walked quickly outside of the warehouse, dropping his henge and quickly joining Kakashi on the top of a nearby roof: "Whatever the mission was, Daiki is likely to have something to do with the brewing riots."

"Riots? As in, more than this one?"

"They're organized." Shikamaru shook his head, "And they're ready to die for... whatever they're fighting for."

"Killing the one rallying them won't help." Kakashi sighed heavily before he tilted his head: "I could take his place and deescalate..."

"What about the other groups doing the same across the city? 50 People aren't enough to reach the ear of the Fire Lord, even they know that." Shikamaru hid a grimace at the idea of killing a civilian whose only fault was not being a shinobi. It set a dangerous precedent... The precedent is already set, isn't it? The thought burned itself inside of the Nara's brain, echoing words that he had long thought forgotten: 'What is the measure of a civilization's value?'

In hindsight, it was obvious that Daiki had been building up to something on a scale that almost escaped Shikamaru's ability to understand it. Your lives are yours. Not of the Village, not of your Clan, not of your Kage, and not mine. The words of Daiki-sensei were like thunder within a lighting storm, and the Konoha-nin could see with stark clarity how his teacher had left a trail of crumbles for him to follow in the form of apparently disjointed lessons that made him think about his own role and place in the world.

"Once you decide, do." he muttered to himself, quoting Daiki-sensei without even realizing it.

"Ideas?" Kakashi's disinterest expressed itself with an arched eyebrow as he turned towards the chunin.

Shikamaru's mind was working overtime, connecting dots that didn't even appear on the same page, feeling as if a puzzle was just beyond the tip of his mental fingers.

It had started with the very first meeting with Daiki-sensei, when he introduced Shikamaru, Ino, and Choji to Failure. Every 'story-time', every sarcastic retort... like hoops around which team 10 was made to jump through. No, not made to, their teacher had been far more oblique in his approach and execution: he forced Shikamaru and his friends to break themselves against the obstacles he created in the hope that they would rebuild themselves as someone capable of seeing the world as Daiki saw it. No, to see the forest and not the trees, to see the land and the forest and the trees...

Ino and Choji took different directions, as did Shikamaru. But Daiki wasn't done with the Nara, was he? He had left a book of pieces of information that nobody had any idea about under his own pillow before facing Orochimaru, claiming to be following orders... Did it even matter? Whether Daiki was actuìing under orders or not, it was Shikamaru that had managed to keep going through endless tests and endless painful thinking-sessions that made him question his own sanity, however briefly, when compared to the views that everybody else had. Shikamaru was the one sent to the Capital, to try and unravel whatever secret there was behind an economical empire that was born far too fast and that was far too diverse to be able to survive without someone guiding it.

At the same time, Kakashi was there to spy on Shikamaru, as if he was a piece that could be used to unravel the mystery that was Daiki the Nuke-nin.

It was as if everyone saw the world through the same pair of glasses: glasses that defined the shinobi system as necessary, frames that directed everybody to pursue individualism in the interest of the city they were born in. There were once two brothers. A shiver ran down Shikamaru's spine without him being able to control him.

What are you worth?

What is your worldview worth?

Why must we abstain from breaking the wheel?

"We shouldn't interfere." Shikamaru decided, "They're too organized, if there is a group here, it's more than likely that there are others all across the city. Milling these ones would make them martyrs."

It is curious. The Nara thought, That even years apart, I keep following Daiki-sensei's trail. He was feeling as if, for the first time, he could actually see the world around him, the politics and power-plays, the necessity of war and the steps taken to ensure the less body count possible... like every puzzle to ever fall in the Nara's hands, it was solved. And with it, Shikamaru found himself at the end of a process that began years before.

The world was the same, but the brightest student of Daiki knew, in his bones and in his heart, that everything had just changed, and that there was no going back.

Daiki POV

I turned into a sideways alley walking as fast as I could without breaking the cover of my skinwalking technique, aware that misuse of chakra would bring the Guardians on me faster than I could say Hiraishin, and I stopped, seeing the signs of a quick clean up.

Tracks on the ground spoke of a hectic and violent clash. One versus... many. My experience wasn't great enough for me to dissect the meaning between each upturned grain of sand a là Aragorn, but it was enough for me to get an idea about what had just happened: "Fucking hell, Itachi, we were gone less than three hours, how the fuck did Karin manage to get herself kidnapped?"

A blonde man with a slender physique joined me in the alley with a slow sigh: "You are the one that wanted to test her." he reminded me with a drawl that Itachi wouldn't be caught dead doing with his actual face.

"Yeah, but I guessed that she would be holed up somewhere safe, not that she would attack her tail, who the fuck attacks an unknown in hostile territory? That's just..."

"Have you bothered teaching her tactics of any kind?" Itachi's voice interrupted my ranting, making me grimace.

"I wanted her to be capable of kicking ass in an emergency before telling her how to avoid emergencies." It was telling that Itachi's silence was loud enough to sound almost like a snort. Fucking Uchiha and their fucking non-verbal communication shit. In hindsight, dropping Karin on her own had been a mistake.

"Well, it's Root, so what are the odds that she's been dragged to Konoha, and what are the odds that she's been tossed all the way to Danzo's location so that he can see on his own if his mind-wiping program can work?" I asked Itachi as he was the expert in Root and ANBU-related bullshit. I don't think he would be using Kotoamatsukami on a random Uzumaki, so we should be safe from that point of view. Maybe they've taken some of her blood, but I don't think they're going to rape her until they've safely placed her back into Konoha, where she can be bred.

"Your induction in Akatsuki is imminent, she can wait a day, and then you'll be able to pull on the considerable resources of the organization to track her, even if I suggest making her disappear quietly." Itachi's calm voice managed to keep me focused even as my soul howled for me to break everything in my immediate surroundings.

"I was thinking of dropping her with our not-so-dead-duo." I admitted with a nod. Hashirama was likely to have some idea about how to make Karin unlock her bullshit chains, and Tobirama knew enough fuinjutsu to fill a couple of libraries.

"Please don't call them that."

"Chummy-corpses?" I tried, receiving a flat gaze that managed to make me stop being annoying for the sake of it, "Okay, don't get your panties in a twist. Where are we going to meet the fuckers? Not Ame, I hope, that place is a fucking death trap."

"Someone will meet us east of the capital." Itachi replied: "The vetting process is quite bland, you'll then receive a mission in which I'll act as a supervisor, once that is done, you're in and besides the occasional order, you'll be free to do your own thing as long as it doesn't interrupt someone else's job."

"We'd better fucking move then." I replied as I walked briskly across the city, knowing that running on the roofs would only make the Guardians and all the other ninja converge on my position, and I really didn't need that right now.

After a few minutes during which we navigated the city, my eyes fell once more on the Uhciha at my side: he was under a seamless henge that made him look like a blonde man roughly 1,75 meters tall, with some stubble and brown eyes. All considered, he had managed to capture the combination of features that resulted in someone perfectly average. Not too bland, because that would have attracted the attention of any watchful shinobi, and not too striking, for obvious reasons.

I myself was wearing the same appearance I had when I entered the Capital, my wobbling legs far too weak for me to be a pretender, and my sight not good enough to spot the very subtle random chek from the passing ninja that constantly kept their guard up in the city.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that interrogation with the Rotting-Riots." I quietly spoke to him after a while.

It was necessary, I knew that much, and Itachi knew as well, having Hashirama and Tobirama willingly following our lead was a not indifferent boon that we would be hard-pressed to find in any other way.

It was telling that Itachi decided to only nod instead of tearing me to shreds with his sharp tongue. He was witty enough to make me feel an hypocrite if he chose to. That the Kinslayer remained quiet, thusly following my lead in this world-wide revolution I was planning. And I was grateful to him for it, even if no such words would ever leave my lips.

"Your disguise is unlikely to allow us to leave the city unmolested if you truly entered with an Uzumaki in tow."

"Itachi, I never meant to leave the city quietly." I laughed softly as we kept moving towards the Eastern gate.

"It's starting?" he asked, proving himself once again lightning fast on the uptake.

"It should." I shrugged, "There is only so much control I can push into something like this, it's not like commanding shinobi, it's more like herding the tide by placing boulders on the way."

Soon enough, as we moved we started spotting more and more often people with red strips of cloth hanging from their belts, braided in their hairs, held in clutched fists that trembled with rage and fear. Like a red tide, these people, from elder to young, from whore to young merchant, moved in a single direction, and Itachi and I were swept up in the crowd.

The main building of the 'House of the Rising Sun' was placed just next to the Eastern Gate, and in front of it, people were trying to push their way across a thin line of regular soldiers in the service of the Capital, who, while more than capable of killing their fellow countrymen, were not particularly eager to start cutting down civilians that were simply asking for a fucking publishing house to be reopened.

A kunoichi appeared on the top of a nearby archway, so that everybody was able to see her: mesh shirt under a white kimono, whe sported the Sash of the Fire Guardians with pride, and her voice was as cold as a blade when she spoke to the crowd: "Disperse."

Killing intent flashed outside of her, intimidating everyone, regular guards included, and for an instant, the commotion lost some wind. I quietly let my chakra seep outside of me, spreading it like a cloak over the people nearest to me even as Itachi and I kept moving towards the eastern gate.

"No!" one man stepped upon the shoulders of someone else, a red flag clutched furiously in his hands, "You take our food for your troops, you force people into working your roads, WE'VE HAD ENOUGH!"

The people immediately started to add their voices to the furious cry of the man, and as some mindless herd, their fight or flight state, subtly influenced by my chakra, made them opt for the first option: so they pushed forward, and the first regular guard fell under the weight of the bodies that were outright running towards the deadly kunoichi.

When the first kunai embedded itself in the temple of the flag-waving man, the crowd started hurling stones, increasing the tempo of their screams, howling in a desperate outrage that couldn't be held back. As I saw them charge, I turned my back on what I had helped unleash and dragged Itachi with me outside of the city.

AN

Uh, some stuff to unravel here:

I skipped the chat with the 2 dead Hokage because we all know what was going to be said there, and I saw no need to waste words on that.

Shikamaru sees the pieces coming together too late to intervene, but he starts to realize the pieces that Daiki didn't let him know when he left Konoha. It's fucking hard to write a 'genius' character, I have to hint at his thought process without making it look like I'm railroading it.

Karin apparently kidnapped by Root, it was an option Daiki considered, but you've seen his reasoning and his answers.

We finally recover one of the strands regarding the whole Worldwide-Revolution Theme that Daiki set rolling by simply spreading his economical empire.

This is the first Riot I've ever written, and I know it's brief, but I preferred to imply it, I can't find it within me to write of gross abuse of power and violence on helpless civilians. There are loads of examples of civilian massacres, and I've rated this fic as Teen instead of Mature content, so I can't really be too explicit, and I don't want to. To quote Tolien, I see fantasy as actual 'escapism' and implying horrible acts is enough for me to set the tone of a story.

I truly don't get how Martin's hyper-realism makes for a good fantasy... the whole point is to dream about something better, isn't it?

In any case, I hope you appreciated this chapter!