.
Political economy came into being as a natural result
of the expansion of trade, and with its appearance elementary,
unscientific huckstering was replaced by a developed
system of licensed fraud, and entire science of enrichment.
Ay slams a piece of paper down on the table.
Akari looks up from her book. She tucks a lock of mint green hair behind her ears and says, "Yes, bougie scum?"
"What the fuck is this?"
She eyes it. "That looks like a piece of paper, to me."
"Don't play dumb."
"That's funny, coming from you."
Ay holds the paper up, right at eye level with her, and Akari can't help the small, victorious grin that her lips twist up in.
It's one of her pamphlets.
Getting those things printed had been an adventure for her.
Her first instinct had been to use clones to try and write it all out. She started with four poorly formed clones but found that they went off on tangents instead of copying the original pamphlet word for word. Then three more strongly formed ones, but that only gave them more of a mind of their own.
So, she had to find a different route and that road that led her to the Kumo propaganda department.
She had to bribe one of the asshole desk-nin to let her use their copying machine since there was only a handful in the entire village, but it worked. She'd never been more grateful to have a set of boobs that she can put good use to for the sake of the cause. A flash of her boobs, a flash of the scanner, and she walked out two hours later with seven-hundred copies of her pamphlet. She let him foot the bill for the paper, though she doubts the village will notice it. That paper is a resource that should be her right, anyway.
To say that Kumo's lower levels of government are disorganized and poorly run is an understatement. They care too much about the stabbing and the exploding to pay attention to whatever poor fuck has to sit in front of the copying machine for nine hours a day and print off school books, newspapers, and anything else the village needs to keep the wheels on the brainwashing bus chugging along.
"What have we told you?" Ay asks.
"A lot of things."
"No revolutionary ranting outside of actual combat encounters, where it can serve as a worthy distraction tactic," Ay says. "Why is that so hard for you to understand?"
"That's not a rant—rant implies a lack of structure and a certain level of informality." She points at the pamphlet. "That, you uncultured swine, is a fully structured dissertation."
From a few tables away, she hears somebody whisper, "Does she have a death wish?"
Akari turns to look at them. "Yes," she says. "I have a death wish." She places her attention on Ay again and leans back into her chair, arms spread wide. "Please, martyr me. Kill me right here and now over this pamphlet and let it fan the flames of—"
"I'm letting Lord Third deal with this," Ay says, a disgusted look on his face. "I have better things to do."
He marches out of the library.
Akari cups her hands around her mouth and calls after him, "Tell the Third I'm still waiting to be smacked! Preferably by his massive capital-cock!"
"Go do something productive, you waste of space," he calls back. "We're leaving for the frontlines in a week! Go train. I'm not saving you if somebody tries to kill you."
"Spoken like true bougie scum!"
.
.
"She can't keep doing this," Ay says. "It's disruptive and ridiculous. She's seventeen years old and a full-blown jonin. She's not a child anymore, she can't keep doing—whatever this is."
The Third stares down at the pamphlet. There's something of a grudging smile on his face, and he runs his hand down his goatee. "This is actually very well written."
"Dad."
There's nobody around, not even any ANBU loitering around to hear them, and that's the only time Ay ever dares address his father in such an informal manner.
The Third raises a hand and Ay falls silent. The Third has a contemplative look on his face that makes Ay's insides go cold.
"What are you thinking?" Ay asks.
"Have you read any of this?"
"No. I'm sure I've heard all of it at some point. She's constantly going on about all of this, and it all sounds the same after a while."
The Third slides it across the desk. "You really should sit down and give it a read."
Ay can't find a way to express how badly he doesn't want to do that respectfully, so he settles for staring down at the offending piece of paper, taunting him from on the desk.
The Third taps his finger against the pamphlet.
Ay picks it up like it could randomly go up in flames any second now, as dangerous as an unstable explosive tag.
"Did I ever tell you why I initially tasked you and your brother with keeping an eye on her?" the Third asks.
"No. You just told us she was causing trouble, and you needed us to keep her in line."
And here they were, seven years later. With Akari running around throwing pamphlets that could probably get anybody else executed for treason like she was doing them a favour.
The Third laughs. "That sounds about right. Naive of me, in hindsight." He nods down at the pamphlet. "We got her the usual way, you know. Picked her up from some village when she was two or three. The village raised her for a couple of years, and when she was five, off she went to school. And right away she was causing problems for her teachers. They complained about how disruptive she was, and how she encouraged bad behaviour in her fellow students. But it never seemed to go anywhere. And then one day, when she was ten and about to graduate, something she did struck a chord."
"What did she do?"
"Incited an actual rebellion," he says.
Ay stiffens. "What? I never heard about this."
"Because I suppressed it immediately. But, it happened. She told the rest of her class about how only nine of the students who graduated in their grade would be given teachers, and that the other ninety or so of them would be left on their own."
"The old tradition," Ay says. "Quality over quantity. We didn't produce as many ninja as other villages, but we had an army of A-rank threats." He blinks, and a look of dawning horror washes over his face. "Wait, does that mean…"
"She's the reason that was changed, yes. Because none of the students really cared when she told them about it, initially. It was never a secret that the vast majority of students wouldn't make it past genin, and were destined for a life of raw materials mining. But then she offered them an alternative. She told them about something she called 'collective bargaining'. That if all of them threatened to intentionally fail their exams and stop coming to school altogether, the village would be forced to negotiate, and that they could hold it over our heads. Because we couldn't lose an entire year of ninja."
"And that worked?"
"Scarily well. Only about three of the students couldn't be talked into the plan, and none of the three were those the village wanted to put into the main track." The Third shrugs. "She claimed we were 'privatizing and restricting' the basic right to further education that all of them should have been entitled to. And she tapped into feelings of abandonment and hopelessness. No idealistic ten-year-old brat wants to think that their village doesn't value them enough to keep training them."
"And that's why we tripled the jonin sensei pay," Ay says. "So that enough of them would be on board to train every one of our school graduates."
"That's why we do it. It was a suggestion from Akari. And it worked like a charm. The amount of money the village allotted towards paying jonin sensei grew exponentially—at least ten times as much—but over the last few years, as that group of graduates have now ascended to chunin and jonin level, we've more than made back the initial investment."
The Third gets up from his seat and moves over to the window. He folds his hands together behind his back, and Ay moves over to stand beside him.
"That was, what… seven years ago, now?" the Third says. "You've been hearing her so long I think you stopped listening. I want you to read it. She might surprise you."
.
.
Ay charges back into the office two days later. He's breathing heavy, and his eyes are wide, and as soon as he's in the room he marches right up to the desk and slams both of his hands down onto it. The wood shakes and a few papers float off onto the ground.
The Third stares at him. Then he motions for the ANBU to clear the room, and a couple of his advisors, who had been waiting to start a meeting with him, scurry out as well. "You read it?" he asks, one eyebrow raised.
"It's idealistic and ridiculous and naive. Half of it doesn't even make sense because she's just making up words and concepts without bothering to explain them." He lets out a long, heavy breath.
"But?"
"But… it's not all bad."
"No, it's not," the Third says. "Some of it is quite ingenious."
"I don't think I'd go that far." Ay sighs. "And it… if I've ever wondered whether or not she cares about the village, and seeing it grow stronger…"
The Third smiles wryly. "Only somebody who truly cares about the village would invest so much time and energy into critiquing it," he finishes.
"Yeah."
"Indeed. It's an odd realization to come to, one that wasn't easy for me, either. But you understand now why I've taken the interest in her that I have."
"I still think she's dangerous," Ay says. He's surprised by how hard that is for him to say.
"Obviously she is," the Third answers. "But no Raikage ever got far without taking risks. And as dangerous as she might be, she has just as much power to help us. That's how ninja are. You either direct their energy to help you or sit back and watch them destroy you."
"And you think she's going to help us."
The Third smiles. It's smug and knowing. "Think of her as a contingency plan."
Ay stiffens, and he takes a step back because he has an idea of what that might mean but he's desperately hoping he's wrong.
That's only confirmed when the Third laughs, saying, "So you've figured it out."
"You think… she'd…"
"She might not be the most powerful ninja we've ever produced. Far, far from it. Her combat skills aren't anything special, by our standards. But that is the sharpest mind I have met in a long time, and she's got enough charisma that once she finds the right angle, she can make anybody listen to her. She's a natural-born leader. And she's fearless." The Third's laugh booms around the empty room. "She looked an S-rank threat dead in the eye and asked if he sticks his dick in trees, then told him it was small. That's the kind of guts you need to run a hidden village."
"It was stupid," Ay says.
"Boy, the difference between stupidity and fearlessness is whether you win."
Ay shakes his head, sighing. "So if I were to die, or if I don't want to become the next Raikage, she's who you'd elect in my place."
"Once she's older? Yes."
"Even with… how extreme some of her ideas are?"
"Radical ideas are the key to innovation, and through innovation and hardship, we grow stronger. If she's willing to shoulder the burden of changing the systems, then I don't see why there's any reason to fear it. I don't let her go hog wild now just because I refuse to shoulder that burden for her." The Third scoffs. He steeples his fingers and rests his chin on them, and there's a bitter smirk on his face. "Won't let that bitch mouth of hers get me in trouble."
And so, Ay bows. He bows to his father, to his Raikage, and to the man whose opinion he respects more than anybody else's. "Thank you for telling me, sir. I'll keep that in mind."
.
.
Ay finds her again in the library. It's the only place she goes consistently, and it's a safe bet if he's ever looking for her. He'll know if she's anywhere else—she's as quiet as a rockslide.
"Ah, my favourite bougie scum!" Akari cries as soon as she sees him. "How has your day of privilege suited you?"
He looks at her, long and hard, and she rolls her silver eyes when he remains silent.
She waves her book in his face. "You aren't allowed to waste my time," she says. "You might think you have a right to use the time of the worker however you want to, even our leisure time, but I'm not—"
"The next time you want to print something," he finally says, cutting her off, "don't flash your tits at the unsuspecting virgin that runs the copying machine."
"Don't tell me what to do."
Ay is about two seconds from wringing her throat. She's asking for it, she really is. But he remembers what the Third said. The version of Akari that came out in her writing, the person that, behind the bluster and the smooth as sandpaper delivery, had one or two worthwhile things to say.
He cares about his village. And he knows she does too. So, he shoves down the urge.
"What I mean is that the next time you want something printed, you'll have a place to do it. You won't have to scar some genin who never did anything to you."
"I saw that dude's boner, what I did definitely didn't scar him." She eyes him up like a predator sizing up its prey. "But you have my interest."
Ay takes a deep breath. "Look. I don't agree with a lot you have to say, and there are some conditions, but Lord Third and I both know you have the best interest of the village in mind. And I think the village will be better for hearing what you have to say."
She gives an appreciative whistle. "Well, fuck me," she says. "The bougie scum has a comrade in him, after all."
"What is that even supposed to mean?"
"It was a compliment. Take it or leave it."
"Whatever. You ready to hear my terms out?"
"Hit me with them, big boy."
.
.
Akari takes the offer.
Sometimes, even if it's coming from bougie scum, you take what you can get. And she can appreciate the olive branch for what it is. So what if she can't encourage active rebellion more than once a month? Her ideas and concepts are strong enough to do that without her having to forcefully proletarianize her audience. Maybe it's frustrating to have the number of copies she can print cut down to 500. And, yeah, running everything by Ay first before it gets printed en masse will annoy the shit out of her.
But on the upside, there's no escape for him, now. He has to read every single word she writes when she puts pen to paper, and if that's not a victory in and of itself, she doesn't know what is.
It's a start. And every movement has to start somewhere.
"C'mere you tree fuckers! I'm just a sad little Kumo nin, all by my lonesome, out here! Won't one of you come and show me a good time? I'm not a tree but I don't shave, so if you close your eyes and use your imagination, it might feel the same!"
She's starfished on the forest floor, staring up at the canopy. Her throat is sore, at this point, since she's been shouting for hours. Her back is wet from the damp, mossy ground. It's not cold, at least—not by Kumo standards. Though she's sure it's a rather nippy December morning for any Fire Country natives.
Ay and B are off somewhere, lying in wait for some unsuspecting bitch to inspect the commotion, at which point she can lure said bitch to their location. Or they'll come to her. It depends. She's got a mic on, meaning that Ay and B will hear the second she encounters enemy ninja and can come running. Plus, they have to listen to her scream about fucking trees for as long as she has to ruin her voice for this plan. Which makes the whole thing worth it.
They're about half a day into Fire Country, in the rough area of one of Konoha's outposts according to their information. Close enough that somebody will hear her eventually.
She split her attention and worked on her next piece of writing for a couple of hours, but her wrist is sore and she's running low on paper. And she's tired. Breakfast was five hours ago and according to modern labour laws—at least, where she came from, way back when—she should have been allotted a proper break an hour ago.
Labour laws.
She sits up and jots that down.
Ay probably won't let that one go through the copier, but she'll start writing on it and save it for when she's liberated herself from under the bourgeoisie's thumb.
Or she can take a route she's toyed with and ghostwrite it, then send it off to be published by somebody else. She's sure there's some uppity male noble in the capital that would relish the chance to publish something controversial like this. Get some quick and easy attention. She doesn't need the credit—as long as it's out there, somewhere, she's satisfied.
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
Akari looks up from her paper pad and takes in the three Konoha ninja standing about fifteen feet away from her. "A tree waiting to be fucked."
One of them, a girl with lavender purple hair, leans towards a boy with boring brown hair and says, "I told you she was talking about fucking trees."
"Why would I have believed that?" the boring boy answers. "What Kumo nin in their right mind would just sit in enemy territory and scream about fucking trees?"
The third one, a boy with blonde hair so light it almost looks silver, makes some kind of inhuman squeaking noise and gapes. The other two look at him, but he doesn't seem to notice.
"Well, it's what you guys do, right?" Akari waves her pencil around vaguely. "Stick your dicks in the little holes or like, rub your vagina up against it?"
"No," Lavender Girl breathes. "No, that's not something we do at all."
"Are you sure? I've heard rumours, and the last one of you I ran into didn't exactly deny it."
Finally, Blondie says, "Holy shit. Namikaze was telling the truth."
"And look, man, I'm not here to kink shame. Whatever. Like it's totally disgusting and you guys should be ashamed of yourselves, but you're among friends. Not fellow tree fuckers, because yikes, but like definitely friends. I'm all for acceptance as long as all involved are consenting adults."
Boring Boy looks at Blondie wildly. "What do you mean, Namikaze was telling the truth?"
"Didn't you hear? He ran into Ay, Killer B, and some weird chick in Kumo a few months ago. He said he got into a debate with the chick. Something about child soldiers? But she opened by like, telling him he had a small dick and asking if he got, uh…" Blondie looks back at Akari. "What was it?"
"I asked him if the bark scratched his micro-penis when he rode the Hashirama trees to kingdom cum."
"What the fuck?" Lavender Girl says. "No, actually. What the fuck. Can we just leave her here?"
Blondie holds out a hand to stop her, shaking his head. "No way. We gotta take her back alive. Namikaze deserves to defend his honour, on this one."
Akari stands up. She crosses her arms in the air, making an 'x' shape. "Hold up. Time out, guys, gals, and other pals. This one?" Akari asks. "Sorry, are you trying to tell me that this isn't the first time Namikaze was rumoured to have fucked a tree? Or is this some other kind of inanimate object?"
Blondie coughs. "It was, uh. There was a rumour he…"
When Blondie trails off, Boring Boy rolls his eyes and says, "Somebody spread a rumour that he got himself off while charging his hand with lightning chakra."
"What?" Lavender Girl screeches. "How come I never heard that?"
"How did you not hear that? It was going around the entire chunin and jonin population!"
"How does he still have a penis?" Akari asks.
"It was a rumour!" Blondie cries. "Nobody knows where it started."
"Cute. Thanks for the new material."
Lavender Girl looks at Boring Boy with clear pity in her blue eyes. "Namikaze's gonna kill you in your sleep."
"If we bring her to him, it'll balance out."
"Yeah, so, on that note," Akari says, slipping her pad into her pocket. "I'm gonna have to decline. And if you're good little Konoha nin, you'll respect my lack of consent and let me go on my way."
"No?" Blondie says.
Boring Boy smacks in him the arm. "Why was that a question, you idiot?"
"No," Blondie repeats.
"Always question," Akari says. "Question everything. Question me, question your orders, question your village, question—"
Lavender Girl springs forward like a coiled snake and Akari dances out of the way.
By the looks of it, Boring Boy is the only jonin. He's got on the usual jonin blues she sees on Konoha nin. The other two might be, as well, because they have the flak jackets, but Lavender Girl didn't come at her fast enough to seem like a jonin. More like high chunin.
Not that they're old enough to be out here, in the first place. She doubts any of them are older than sixteen, and Blondie especially looks like he's a fetus, maybe fourteen, at the oldest. She has no intention of fighting them. She won't hurt them and she isn't confident she could disable them without causing damage.
And, more importantly, she doesn't want to let Ay or B hurt them, either.
She wonders if she can outrun them and shake them off her trail, then go to meet up with Ay and B. She could always say that they backed off when she ran.
That's it. That's her plan.
"This has been fun and informative," Akari says, stepping back in the opposite direction of Ay and B, "but I gotta blast."
All three of them snap into combat mode. The change is stark, as it always is when humans flip the switch and turn themselves into weapons. And now she knows that it's time to run like she means it because if she doesn't, she might actually be in a bit of a tight spot, here.
She books it.
And quickly, it becomes clear that she cannot, in fact, lose them on her own. Not Boring Boy at least, who is proving to be anything but boring in combat when he starts throwing shuriken as big as overweight chihuahuas at her and a few of them get too close for comfort.
The other two are flanking her the whole while, too, and Lavender Girl seems to be chucking senbon at her pressure points, while Blondie bodily throws himself at her every ten seconds or so and knocks her off her balance.
By the time Ay and B arrive on the scene, there's blood dripping down her arms and she thinks she might have sprained her ankle, or something, because there's a sharp ache each time she puts weight on it.
One of the shurikens goes right for her head. She doesn't think she's going to dodge in time.
But before it can take her out French Revolution-style, Ay breaks onto the scene and snatches the thing out of the air.
Everything stops.
Boring Boy looks at Ay with the expression of a mouse chasing the scent of cheese who just turned the corner and found themselves face to face with a mountain lion, and she hears a few startled swear words from the direction she thinks Lavender Girl is hiding in.
And she contemplates how she wants to handle this.
She has nothing.
Ay looks ready to throw the shuriken right back at Boring Boy, and Akari knows for a fact that it will kill Boring Boy because Ay doesn't play when it comes to combat.
Thankfully, Minato flashes into existence right in front of Ay and places a hand on the shuriken.
Lavender Girl stumbles out from behind a tree on Akari's right, a three-pronged kunai clutched in her hand. Blondie follows suit on Akari's left. Now, all of the Konoha nin are well within her sight once again, safely tucked behind Minato Namikaze.
Minato smiles and, with the same cheeriness as if they were playing a game of hide and seek, he says, "I know you're there too, B, and if you so much as breathe in the direction of any of these kids I will kill you before you can get close enough."
"Well, shit, man," B calls. "There goes my plan."
Minato turns his attention to Akari again. He tilts his head, curious. But "Hello, again," is all he says.
"Hi, lightning masturbator. I figured you were a quick one pump chump as it is—can't figure out why you'd wanna go any faster than that."
There's a chilling silence that washes over the scene.
Slowly, Minato turns to look over his shoulder, the pleasant smile never leaving his face.
Lavender Girl instantly points at the two boys. "I had nothing to do with this. I'd never even heard that rumour before."
"Fuck off, Kari."
"Can we talk about this later?" Blondie asks, looking over his shoulder at where B is lingering. "When we're not, uh. You know. Face to face with two of Kumo's strongest ninja? And… whoever that chick is?"
"Later, then," Minato says jovially.
Blondie and Boring Boy pale.
Akari steps back and sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth when her ankle protests. Ay turns to look at her, and she's surprised by the amount of concern on his face, though it's smothered in a heartbeat as if it was never there.
Minato flicks his gaze from Ay's face to Akari. She expects him to press the advantage she'd provided, distracting Ay like that.
But Minato shakes his head and drops his hand from the shuriken. "There's no need to finish this fight," he says. He jerks his head towards Akari. "She's injured and I've only gotten faster since the last time you saw me."
"I don't think that choice is up to you," Ay says.
"Actually, it… definitely is."
"Oi, Namikaze," Akari says. She wraps her hand around a gash on her upper arm. "We never got to properly finish our debate. I've got a whole bit on Gramsci to hit you with that I've been thinking about since our last go."
"Gramsci, huh? Never heard of him." Minato grins at her, wild and sharp. "But I look forward to it, Akari. I'll look for you."
And then before anybody can say anything else, all four of the Konoha nin pop out of existence, too fast for her eyes to track.
Akari falls back onto her ass.
Ay sighs. "You let a bunch of kids get the better of you."
"It's true," B says. "You coulda beat them if you wanted to."
"If either of you thinks I'm gonna fight a kid then you really don't fucking know me."
"You are a kid," Ay says.
"Doesn't factor."
"This is stupid."
Ay stoops down and tosses her over his shoulder, fireman style.
"What did I say about manhandling me?" Akari says.
"Nothing I listened to."
"Shouldn't pick up a lady without permission. Gotta make sure you do it of her volition."
Using his free hand, Ay points an accusing finger at B. "You need to stop listening to her, too."
B shrugs. "That one's common sense if you don't wanna cause offence."
"Pass me to B," she says. "He's nicer, has my permission, and I know he'll hold me like a lady deserves to be held."
"Whatever."
And so she's handed off to B, who holds her bridal style, and with the grace of a gentleman. She pats him on the cheek and B preens.
"We've wasted enough time," Ay says. "Let's get a move-on. And I'm not explaining this when we get back to Lord Third."
"Fine by me."
A/N: lol