Hi and welcome to the third arc of the story. I was a little slow on the update this time around. Basically I was playing around with ways to speed things up a little, maybe with a time-skip, or skipping ahead and backfilling the story at it goes along but none of that seemed to work. So, here I am, back at the beginning with my regular old linear format and glacially slow pace.
Ah, well…live and learn. Hope you like it anyway!
--Jonohex.
Part 3, Complicated Shadows -- While a powerful ninja lord from Kirigakure visits The Land of Waves, the patriarchs of Water Country's bloodline clans search out Haku.
Well there's a line that you must toe
and it'll soon be time to go
but it's darker than you know in those Complicated Shadows.
Elvis Costello – Complicated Shadows.
Haku
The young Wave Country constable knew that today was going to be different almost from the moment he'd left the Tezukas' house that morning. Before the teenager had even made it halfway to the magistrate's offices, no less than a dozen people had stopped him in the streets to ask about the new ship in harbor.
Intrigued, Haku walked down to the docks to see for himself the vessel they'd described with such whispered trepidation and it was not at all difficult to find -- a potent-looking frigate that managed to combine in its nautical architecture the streamlined elegance of a yacht with the much more imposing qualities of a man-o-war. Mist-ninja stood at intervals along its sleek pipe-railings with hands clasped uniformly at their waists, dark silhouettes against the bright morning sky, still as statues and vigilant as vultures. Waving fitfully in the ocean breeze over the bridge-house, a standard flew which bore the same emblem as the one painted boldly in black on the ship's bow – a row of four undulant lines, the sigil of Kirigakure no Sato.
The teenager's lips drew into a thin line.
Approaching the old customs house that served as Lady Orimi's headquarters, as he'd done nearly every day for the last five months, Zabuza's former disciple found strangers guarding the door. One of the four mist-chunin broke from his martially-stiff posture enough to spare Haku a brief, critical scowl, but made no move to stop him as the constable paced up the steps and went inside. These sentries were not like those assigned here as part of the lady magistrate's garrison, a collection of oddballs and misanthropes, those who'd been banished to this most remote outpost to serve out their sentences for whatever infractions that could not be handled otherwise under Kiri's official code of conduct, or young genin straight from the Martial School. These newcomers were mainline shinobi, and whoever had accompanied them here in that ship occupied the Mist Village's topmost echelon, maybe even the Mizukage, Lord Kouji Oku himself.
Is it possible? Haku very much hoped it wasn't but the teenager's thoughts were interrupted almost immediately by Chizuzu, Daigo and Utako, the three genin that comprised Orimi's security detail, who rushed around the constable almost before he'd shut the door behind him.
"Mr. Okame!" cried a panic-stricken Chizuzu. The twelve-year olds' intensely-focused hazel eyes looked up at him worriedly from beneath the heavy-looking mantle of her hitai-ate. "Lady Orimi told us to tell you to go see her in her office the second you got here and that it's really, really, really, really important!"
Haku's gaze flickered between the three anxious faces. Even the normally stoic and reserved kunoichi, Utako, wore a perturbed frown. "Of course," he replied coolly but asked: "Do you know who's with her?"
The two girls shook their heads but: "It is some old lady, Sir," reported Diago dutifully.
Daigo didn't care much for Haku. The constable's feminine aesthetics and mannerisms cut deeply across everything the ancient clan to which the boy belonged had raised him to expect from a mist-shinobi. However, the genin had also been inculcated with the ethos of 'soldier ask not' since birth. Haku outranked him and so, by all the powers of heaven and earth, Daigo would support him with every particle of his being; he would smile pretty and stand in the path of a speeding train if the senior shinobi so ordered.
Haku canted an eyebrow then gave Daigo a brief nod, letting the genin know in an appropriately understated way that that little bit of information was incredibly useful and exactly what he'd sought.
So, the ninja considered, greatly relieved, it is not the Mizukage, nor is it Lady Hirai's Grandfather, Kissohamaru.
Haku had already met the elder Councilor from Kirigakure and they had not parted under the best of terms. That left one remaining probability which was still quite a lot better than the other two.
Hastening up the three flights of curved marble stairways and along the wide hall flanked with secretaries that lead to Lady Hirai's office, Haku rapped smartly at her door, awaited acknowledgement then entered to the surprising chirps of light laughter. His superior, resplendent as usual in her vibrant magisterial robes and tassled hat, and standing before her own desk, turned toward him.
"Ah, Constable Okame," Orimi greeted then gestured toward the owlish old woman seated in what was normally her chair.
The young ninja took in with a glance the newcomer's clever eyes; the severe line like a faded scar formed by the shape of her lips, and her hair a drapery of silver curls. The woman's ensemble, which conveyed a clear preference for comfort over formality, seemed oddly thrown-together: a loose, indigo knee-coat patterned with bamboo leaf motifs worn over pewter-colored fatigue pants. That her slipper-covered feet rested causally atop the magistrate's desk, and that Orimi Hirai was actually allowing this to occur, was more than enough to acquaint Haku with the stranger's lofty rank even before the kunoichi concluded: "May I introduce you to the councilor, Lady Chinami Inoue."
Haku bowed as formally as humanly possible even as the potentate cut her mirth short and fixed him with a hard, puzzled stare.
"You…!" the old woman intoned intensely then, with surprising vigor, shot to her feet.
The constable's face went blank; heat prickled under his hitai-ate as the young shinobi tried to place her though he swore to himself he'd never seen her before. The Councilor's eyes meanwhile, jewels of cloudy grey-green against the weathered and wrinkled setting of her aged face, went wide.
Could she, Haku's thoughts fluttered, could she recognize me as Zabuza's apprentice?
Trying to withhold any reaction that might betray him and trying not to believe that the elaborate house of cards of his new life was about to come crashing down, the teenager caught the flash of concern in Orimi's otherwise poker face.
"By Heaven and Earth!" Lady Inoue exclaimed, leveling a tense, trembling finger at the young ninja as she marched around from behind the desk toward the constable whose mind froze fixedly on his fate. "You!" she continued, almost eye-to-eye with him, "You're…!"
But what should he DO? Haku's mind raced. Stick to his story; make up a new one; fight; flight? Haku sucked in his lips as he hung on the Councilor's next word.
"…BEAUTIFUL!" the woman exulted at last as she clasped pruned hands rapturously to bony breast.
The black-haired teenager's legs almost gave way but Inoue's fingers went to his chin and seemed to hold him up with a feather's touch.
"That skin: flawless and milky as alabaster," the old councilor cooed as she inspected him close up, her dry lips scant inches from the ninja's cheek. "An ANGEL'S face! Hair like fine, black silk! Slender and straight of body; and eyes like polished granite, large and soulful! I tell you, I have never seen a finer-looking young man. Constable! You are nothing less than magnificent."
Haku stared straight ahead, dumb and frozen, but tried to pry the features of his face loose enough at least to affect a smile. Never in his life had he been praised with such effusion about anything let alone his appearance which so many considered odd or, in some cases, even disturbingly, unforgivably androgynous.
"Orimi!" Lady Inoue barked sharply in a voice that slid then into tones as smooth and sweet as chocolate butter-frosting, "what would it take to have him transferred to my retinue?"
For her part, the magistrate of Wave Country was the picture of unflappable propriety. "I'm sorry, Lady Inoue, but my constable is…not for sale."
"Poo," the councilwoman replied unhappily with arms crossed then gave Haku a long, appreciative perusal. "Still," she added in a far-away voice, "I can hardly blame you. I know *I* wouldn't let him go without a hell of a fight."
Like water trickling through a clearing drain, Haku's senses slowly returned. "I'm…I'm very honored to meet you, Lady Inoue, and…quite flattered by your kind words."
The woman gave a dramatic love-struck sigh then shot Orimi a look. "He would have to be polite and soft-spoken too. Damn you, girl, where did you find him?! Ah, well," she lamented, "I suppose I shall have to make do with the staff I have."
"If I may say, Lady Inoue," Orimi ventured, "they appear to be quite capable."
"Capable, YES!" Inoue exploded then shook her head, "but UGLY! So, so ugly. I picked them all at a time when I valued substance over style, function over form. Little did I know that I was sentencing myself to -- to having to LOOK at those scarred and pock-marked, rough-complexioned, clock-stoppingly ugly faces EVERY DAY!"
The constable blinked uncertainly as the magistrate, in his defense, stated: "My Lady, I assure you that --."
"That your Constable Okame is also quite capable," the old kunoichi finished Orimi's sentence abruptly, waving her hand in curt dismissal, "yes, yes, yes, I never meant to imply otherwise." Lady Inoue stood straight then announced briskly: "Well! Lady Magistrate, if I can't have your constable for my very own then I demand at the least that you let me borrow him for awhile. I want a knowledgeable AND attractive guide to escort me during my stay." With that she looped her arm around Haku's and waited expectantly; a 'that's the end of the argument' look plain on her face.
Orimi and Haku looked at each other nonplussed and then at the councilwoman before the Lady Magistrate's head fell of its own accord into an obedient nod. "Uh, certainly, Lady Inoue," she answered after a long hesitation then her face cracked with an obligatory, polite smile.
As Inoue grinned victoriously then steered her prize toward the door, Orimi interrupted: "Oh, Constable, one last thing --." She stopped suddenly. "Never mind, it'll wait."
"Well, what is it?" asked the councilor, sparing the magistrate a look of infinite patience. "You got me interested now."
"It's nothing really," Orimi prefaced, clearly regretting having brought it up. She glanced toward Haku. "While you were on leave, these three jokers from the Rain Village, wearing gas masks and jumpsuits (if you can believe THAT) showed up."
"Oh?" replied Haku in a level tone as he imagined the spectacle. "What did they want?"
Orimi frowned and shook her head in annoyance. "They're looking for some dumb f-, I mean, for one of their jonin who, apparently, strayed off the reservation and is now some kind of killer-for-hire."
"Hmm," answered Haku, feigning interest. Of all the things he had to worry about just now, Aoi Roshuko was probably not one of them. Nevertheless, he answered in an attentive tone: "I'll be sure to keep an eye out, Lady Hirai."
Mari
Alone on the forested trail in the hills overlooking Wave Country, Mari Tezuka pushed her wheelbarrow full of tools past the path that lead to a familiar clearing, vowing that this time she'd just walk by.
There's nothing there you haven't seen before, the girl told herself primly and turned up her nose as if not interested at all.
Haku and Zabuza's gravesite had become something of a regular stop when she found herself working out this way. For many people, the two ninja fugitives had, in tragic death, become something like folk heroes whose patron spirits could be moved to intercede in the affairs of the living and bring good fortune to the Land of Waves. Believers left votives, flowers, fruit and other gifts, lit candles and incense. The girl always found it terribly interesting the cornucopia of things left for the perusal of her very-much-alive boyfriend's ghost in hopes that he (it) would cure a loved one's illness, bring misfortune to an enemy, or guarantee success at the gambling halls. One enterprising visitor had come not to give but to take and had left with the Demon of the Hidden Mist's ridiculously giant sword – Zabuza's trademark weapon that had served as his tombstone.
Mari resisted the temptation to be mad about that for she had, one fateful day, taken much more than that.
The freckle-faced, black-haired girl smiled uneasily at the memory then felt proud of herself when she passed where the rugged path split into a fork that bent toward the gravesite.
But you know, the thought tantalized before she'd gone very far, the last time you went there you found that really cool plate – that old, antique saucer with scalloped, gilt edges, and a drawing of a crane and a carp in the middle.
Without even breaking stride, Mari doubled back then veered into the tree-bounded clearing.
You shouldn't be doing this, the girl remonstrated herself once again but the thought got flicked away the moment she noticed that she was not going to be disappointed.
Immediately, one item among the many seized her attention – a lacquered scroll case resting against the upright of the simple wooden cross that marked Haku's grave. Upon the cap was painted the crane-and-carp crest of the Aramata clan.
"It's – it's just like the saucer," Mari noted in an amazed whisper then looked around, wondering who could have left it. It had to be the same person who'd left the plate…right?
For the first time she could remember Mari felt something like a foreboding shiver, as if she were tip-toeing somehow upon the forbidden shores of some deep, dark, secret of the ninja world, but the sensation was quickly sent packing by the thrill of a genuine mystery.
Gathering herself, the girl grinned determinedly, reached toward the scroll case, snatched it up and fled.
Haku
Arm in arm with the Councilor from Kirigakure no Sato, probably the most powerful kunoichi in the Land of Water despite her harmless appearance and many off-putting idiosyncrasies, Haku guided the woman through town. As a member of the consortium financing the construction, she was most keen on surveying the progress up close and took great interest in exploring the grand new buildings, broad avenues, landscaped parks and even the less spectacular but no less important state-of-the-art infrastructure projects such as the wastewater reclamation fields, desalinization plant and electric power station.
Although Lady Inoue seemed quite pleased with the quality of work done to date, she was less so about how much remained.
"My goodness, Constable," she remarked out of the blue on the way to the next stop, "you have a way with people."
Haku, wearied already from the old woman's tireless pace and keenly aware of how dangerous she undoubtedly was, smiled guardedly. "How do you mean?"
"The way people look at you," Inoue explained and waved her arm at all the passers-by, "that's not fear in their eyes, it's respect."
The teenager shook his head and delivered a disarming grin he hoped didn't seem too facile. "It's my office, that's all. I've tried to make myself useful."
"None of that!" scolded the old councilwoman in a stern but good-natured way before she went on unabated: "I don't think I've ever seen anyone look at a shinobi of the Hidden Mist like that, not for many years. They actually admire you here; I dare say they LIKE you."
Plotting in his mind the shortest course through the crowded streets, Haku tried to forecast where the kunoichi was going with this puzzling line of inquiry but, to his surprise, the old woman's tone softened as she asked: "Constable, do you…do you like it here? You do, don't you?"
Of all the questions Lady Inoue might have posed, this one struck Haku as one he might have expected least…not to mention oddly personal. "Yes," he decided to answer honestly since it was obvious anyway, "very much. The warm climate suits me, as do the people." The young ninja paused and looked at her, assuming (as presumptive and potentially perilous as that could be) that she might be the type who appreciated candor. "I consider Wave Country to be my home."
The woman from the Mist Village's thoughtful and affirmative reaction surprised him even more. "Splendid," she muttered.
After a long meeting with Tazuna, Keiya Okore, and Yoichiro Saito, where Inoue was brought up to date on the construction schedule, cash outflows, manpower shortages for skilled trades, the dates various building materials were supposed to arrive, and difficulties arising from inaccuracies in some of the surveys and soil test reports, the councilwoman offered to treat her guide to a very late lunch.
Haku steered her toward an out of the way cafe called The Blue Cactus. The food was good there and the pace a bit slow, making it a perfect place to rest. And they had ice cream.
"I'm sorry you had to sit through all of that," offered the kunoichi after a healthy mouthful of clear, chap chae noodles. "As a young man, you must find such things more than a touch boring."
Haku looked over his plate across the table at her. "Not at all, Lady Inoue," the teenager countered politely. "Though I admit, between all the contractual arrangements, the complexities of the financing, the design and engineering aspects and all their deliverables, then everything involved with the actual construction itself, I had no idea the process could be so elaborate." His expression pinched with slight self-consciousness. "Tazuna's done his best to explain it to me but I doubt I've absorbed even half."
"I noticed that man seemed reassured by your presence." Inoue barked out a laugh. "That's a switch! Usually when there're mist-ninja around everyone's worried about who they're gonna KILL, right? Of course," the old woman expounded, "having survived Zabuza Momochi trying to chop him into sashimi, and then all those rogue ninja trying to burn the place down a few months ago, not to mention Haku turning up still alive, having a garrison of mist-ninja in town must seem positively tame by comparison."
Haku nodded quietly and kept eating.
"By now I shouldn't be surprised that you're the exception to the rule. You must have got that from your sensei, may heaven rest his soul."
Again the teenager made sure to say nothing, let his head hunker between his narrow, sloping shoulders and pretended to be occupied savoring his meal.
Inoue took another big bite of noodles followed by a gulp of tea then paused deliberately before leaning forward. "So tell me, Constable Okame," the old kunoichi advanced with ashen brow raised, "what's that look you keep giving me? You're not in love are you? There's a bit of an age difference you know; not that I mind!"
"Look?" Haku repeated awkwardly then wiped his slack chin. By this time he was starting to learn that she liked to throw out remarks like that every now and then just to see how people reacted. "I don't know. I suppose it's just," the black-haired shinobi frowned and started over: "I've rarely met someone of your stature. And though you are much different than I would have expected from any member of Kirigakure's Council of Elders, it's crossed my mind the sorts of jutsu you must have mastered." Again, Haku chose to be direct. "I wonder too what it must be like to have shared so much of the Mist Village's history…and to be privy to its secrets."
Inoue stared at him, swallowed hard then laughed. "You ARE very different from any shinobi, really, from any-ONE I have ever met. But ah, yes, SO mysterious," she commented sarcastically. "I'm sure Kiri's inner workings must seem that way to you."
"Are they not?"
The woman shook her head definitively then gestured at him with noodle and sauce-laden chopsticks. "What motivates a nation is no different from what motivates a man or the men who lead it – hunger, fear, pride, greed, lust. Only on rare occasion is it something more enlightened. Of course," she pointed out, "every so often a nation, much like a person, feels the need to pretend it stands for something more. And THAT is when it is at its most dangerous."
Haku, struck by her irreverent and bleakly cynical outlook, blinked then gave a thoughtful nod. It was awfully hard to tell if Lady Inoue was being serious or not.
"You don't think so? Alright then!" the kunoichi challenged as she set down her utensils, "think of me as a Djinn from ancient mythology – only instead of wishes you may ask of me three questions, whatever you like, and I shall answer to the best of my knowledge."
The teenager assumed she was kidding at first then really had to think about the offer for a moment when it became plain to him that she was not. Though the Councilor's manner was folksy and disarming, he knew that he must never forget the corridors of power she walked and what she must have done to reach them – much like her colleague, Kissohamaru. And then too Haku knew full well that questions revealed as much about the questioner as the answers revealed about the asked.
So…could he really decline if he wanted to? What would that reveal?
Then again, the shinobi forced himself to consider, he might just be making too much of this which was kind of a habit with him.
"Very well," Haku played along then ventured in a daring tone, knowing the question was implicit: "The Third Mizukage."
Inoue smiled and nodded, rising to the test. "Ha." Her face lit like a magician's. "I suppose it's obvious you'd ask about him and how the most powerful ninja lord in our history, who came out of nowhere and built Kirigakure into a vast military power, vanished without a trace. Hmm," she muttered in hindsight, "you're right. I guess that does seem a bit mysterious."
The ninja gave a demure, offhand gesture. "I've often wondered."
Lady Inoue took another gulp of tea then began in earnest: "Our glorious Third came to us at a time when the Land of Water was still wracked from civil war and suffering the depredations of famine that followed in its wake. He was," her old face pinched as she searched for the right words, "very compelling, charismatic, enormously powerful and had this…this bold vision of how to unite Kirigakure and make our village strong once again. Everyone was so full of hope when HE came. I suppose we should have known better."
Haku tendered a sardonic smile then glanced around at the restaurant's other patrons. "It does sound too good to be true when you say it like that."
"Let it be a lesson to you," Inoue pointed out, wrinkled finger upraised instructively, "a good deal will never come looking for you. If someone comes at you sounding like that, then the plan they have in mind is one that's good for THEM, not you!
"But this man," she continued in a tone that made her sound something like an old gossip, "was an immensely powerful ninja lord named Madara Uchiha, and he was the grand patriarch of the Leaf Village's Uchiha clan. After something of a lengthy convalescence following a bitter defeat he'd suffered at the hands of a rival there he was looking for what the business folks call a 'lateral move' which we were more than happy to give him given the sorry state we were in."
Haku's grey eyes went wide at the mention of that name. The young ninja had long grown up with the stories and rumors that circulated about the Third Mizukage and how some unspeakable secret had lead ultimately to the great man's disappearance. But not even the wildest of those approached this. As the constable digested the revelation, he thought too about his own encounter with Sasuke at the first battle at the bridge and the canisters of Uchiha 'product' he'd taken back to Konohagakure just days ago. It sure seemed like a small world.
"With his particularly persuasive manner he was indeed able, after just a few years, to unite all the various factions and earn the support of Water Country's daimyo," the councilwoman went on. "True to his word our ranks swelled with shinobi under his tenure BUT it became clear to some of us somewhere along the way that none of what he'd accomplished was for Kiri's interests, but for his own. What our Uchiha kage wanted was not merely to have a force powerful enough to deter any invasion from the other Elemental Nations, but one powerful enough to wage war far beyond Water Country's borders – an army with which he could pursue his grudge against his former village and maybe much more than that."
Haku nodded; his thin, dark brows furrowed intensely. It had always seemed odd to him why Kirigakure felt it needed so many ninja and commanded so many vessels. Being that Water Country was a nation of islands out on the edges of the known world, having such a huge military force as a deterrent never made much sense.
"Some of us, a tiny minority, mind you, were quite worried as I remember," the old woman intoned. "Water Country had just come out of a long series of terrible civil wars and now it seemed that our own Mizukage was gearing us up to wage war again, not with any domestic enemy but against, very possibly, the entire rest of the world.
"By that time, understand, the Third was at the height of his power. All Kirigakure was with him, all the senior shinobi, not to mention his Seven Swordsmen so it didn't seem like there was much those few of us who harbored doubts could do about it."
Inoue paused in her narrative to fix the rapt constable with a wry look.
"So what happened?" Haku plied her, seeing that she had her heart set on him asking.
"My elder councilor, Lord Kissohamaru Hirai asked the Mizukage to leave."
Again the aged woman paused, driving Haku to distraction.
"And?" the young ninja all but demanded.
"He left," Inoue concluded with a shrug. "That's the end of the story."
Haku stared for a moment then broke out in a smile and couldn't help but laugh, thinking the old woman was just having fun with him the whole time. "Well," he commented blithely, "that was most obliging of him, Councilor."
"It was, wasn't it?"
Seeing that that was all Inoue was going to say without further encouragement, Haku prodded: "Must I use my second question to find out why?"
"No," Inoue declined gently, "because my answer would be that I don't know. But I'll tell you this," she added after a pause, "Kissohamaru would not have confronted him like that if the old bastard didn't have the deck stacked heavily, and I mean heavily, in his favor. So who knows what Madara saw through his sharingan eyes. Whatever it was, the Uchiha lord left and was never heard from again."
Mari
Mari usually made it a point to let Haku decompress for awhile after he came home but this was an exception. She waited in his basement room, sitting anxiously with her feet tapping on the painted concrete floor; the scroll case she'd found clutched against her chest.
A little past the usual hour the black-haired girl heard the door open and Haku's booted feet come tramping heavily down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, the teenager gave Mari a weary, apologetic look, slouched to his bed and toppled face-down into it.
"Bad day at the office?" inquired Mari.
"Mmmf," replied the motionless constable.
"What happened?"
Bracing a hand against the futon mattress, the ninja shoved himself over. "That woman," he moaned tiredly, letting a lazy arm fall over his eyes, "Lady Inoue from Kirigakure. She ran me all over the city, looking at this, inspecting that, arguing with people about contracts and schedules and manpower and…ugh."
Mari smiled and nodded in playful sympathy. "All of that's very interesting BUT -- somebody left you a message at your grave."
"Lots of people do that."
"This is different," the girl specified as she presented the crest on the scroll-case's cap.
Haku peeked then sat up with interest. Taking the lacquered tube from her, the slender ninja inspected it cautiously then pried it open.
"So what is it?" asked Mari eagerly as the shinobi extracted a roll of paper then scanned its contents.
"A poem," he answered flatly, "a pretty bad one." The constable read it aloud -- a long and awkwardly-phrased ode to the passage of the seasons and all the heavenly bodies in their celestial migrations.
Mari's freckled face pinched into a pained expression. "Aw, that sucks!" she stated in sour disappointment, shaking her head. "That just sucks! I thought it was gonna be more spooky ninja crap, like with the saucer or something, not some dumb poem and it's not even any good." The girl gestured at the scroll. "Unless you LIKE motion sickness."
The raven-haired teenager canted an eyebrow at his girlfriend's odd phrase, tilting his head as he asked: "What do you mean?"
"Y'know, all those sunrises and sunsets, birds soaring, leaves drifting, butterflies fluttering this way and that." The girl waved her arms then illustrated her opinion by pretending to put a finger down her throat: "YAK! I'm STILL dizzy."
Haku was quiet for a moment. His expression drew serious then the ninja rose and went to a shelf that held some art supplies Mari's uncle Maceo had left behind. Turning then toward his table, the teenager sat down, unrolled a sheet of rice paper, opened an inkwell and dipped a brush.
"What is it?" inquired Mari as Haku began to write, his grey eyes roving back and forth between the message and the fresh, white paper before him. "What, is it in code or something?"
Haku nodded. "Something like that, but it's more of a puzzle. Each movement described in the poem tells how to draw the brushstrokes in the characters for the real message."
Mari's dark eyes popped excitedly. "Oh! No DOUBT!" she piped as she jumped up then slipped behind Haku and rested her chin on his shoulder so she could see. "That's actually kinda cool; real spy stuff like in the movies. Finally, some ninja sh-t that makes sense. So what does the REAL message say?"
"Young master of wind and water," the ninja read.
"Your brothers entreat you to speak with us. Dusk; full moon," Mari continued. The girl stepped away then sat down on Haku's bed. "So…that would be a meeting at sunset before the night of the full moon."
Haku hummed in agreement. "I assume the gravesite is the place."
"Could it --," Mari started to speak then went quiet as her younger brothers' pitchy voices rang out and their stampeding footsteps raced overhead, making the joists and floorboards rattle and shake. "Could it really be your brothers?" the girl finished once they'd passed and things were quiet again.
Haku shook his head. "I suspect the author is using the term in the more inclusive sense, as in 'brothers in a cause'."
"The full moon," Mari pondered aloud, "that's just a couple of days from now! How could they know you'd get the message that fast and that they could reach you by leaving something at the grave?"
"It must have something to do with my trip to Kori no Hana Island. I went there shortly after you showed me that saucer you found that had the Aramata crest on it. If the messenger was aware of both events then simple deduction could have lead them to conclude that I am alive and in Wave Country…not to mention self-absorbed enough to frequent my own grave."
Mari stuck her tongue out at him for his subtle teasing then asked more seriously: "It couldn't be the ANBU again, could it?"
"A good thought, Mari, but I doubt it." Haku leaned back, formed a steeple with his fingers and rested them against his delicate chin. "The Mist's Bingo Book of enemies of the state has me listed as deceased. I've seen it for myself so I think it's safe to say there are no mist-shinobi looking for me anymore. Still, I might consider all of this as part of a deeper subterfuge to lure me out if it weren't for that it was a lone Kaguya who attacked me on the island. A Mist operation would have made sure to capture or kill me there; the trap would have been much more organized." His smoky eyes flickered up. "And then there's how profoundly unlikely it is for any surviving member of that clan to be in league with Kirigakure."
Mari leaned forward, resting her cheeks in her palms. "So what are you gonna do?"
"It seems that I have an appointment to keep," answered the ninja with a casual shrug that failed to mask an underlying apprehension.
"Do you think that's a good idea?"
The black-haired teenager blew out a breath. "Not really," he admitted. "Still, I feel…it's hard to explain."
Mari warmed as Haku smiled at her – an expression of pure gratitude, acknowledging that she put up with peculiarities, both personal and professional, that no one should be expected to.
"I suppose mainly that it must be my nature," added the ninja, "not to let a mystery remain unresolved when the solution is right at hand."
Haku
After another day spent at Lady Inoue's side, watching some tracts of land on the islands rocky, high ground get cleared, hammered or blasted flat while, down below, massive tunnel borers chewed their way into the steep hillsides, Haku was ready to go home. Even the ninjas the councilwoman had brought in to speed things along, pensioners mostly, well past their fighting prime but skilled with earth-element jutsu, failed to excite the teenager very much.
Construction was interesting and all, but he'd had it in his face for nearly nine unrelenting months now – ever since Zabuza's death. He'd even worked on a crew himself for a time back when he was hiding from the ANBU. Enough was enough.
"So, young Constable," said Lady Inoue in a pixyish tone with her cloudy green eyes crinkled slyly on their way back to the magistrate's offices, "have you given any thought to your second question?"
Haku, preoccupied with the impending meeting at his grave, hadn't. His mind raced for a moment, not wanting to disappoint the councilwoman or hurt her feelings. Was that strange?
At once though, a question came to him – one that hadn't fully left his mind since his first encounter with the 'man' in hours preceding the second battle at the bridge.
"Krishenay Rahaman," Haku replied grimly, having never forgotten the Mizukage's emissary and executioner – the visage of death itself; and a man in appearance only for it had been clear to Haku from first glance that Rahaman was far from human. "What is he?"
The old woman's pale eyes went wide for a moment before her lined face fell into an expression like sorrow. "Ah," she ventured, "I see. I forgot for a moment that it wasn't unlikely that you would have met him. But what is he?" continued the kunoichi rhetorically, the strain evident in her voice, "a mistake; a big one…like Momochi and Hoshigake and Uchiha before him. All were mistakes but Rahaman is by far the worst.
"You surprise me, Constable," Inoue intoned, "I didn't think any of your questions would make me regret my offer to answer them."
The teenager's eyes widened. "I…I'm sorry, Lady Inoue, that was not my intention." Haku thought for a moment. "Never mind then," he offered in an awkward attempt at consolation, "I withdraw it. I'll ask something else."
Lady Inoue frowned but it seemed directed at herself. "Too late!" she countered brusquely though it lacked her usual energy, "But it's alright anyway. Having to answer hard questions just might be something I'll have to get used to."
After taking a few moments to regroup, the old woman began: "After our Third Mizukage's expulsion, the council and I decided we wanted someone much more malleable at the helm – someone we all could guide and influence. In something of an overcorrection, we chose a jonin named Kouji from Water Country's prestigious and well-connected Oku family. He was a capable fellow, a fine ninja in all honesty, but being a Mizukage requires a certain mindset, a charisma and personality that the poor fellow just didn't have.
"Between those shortcomings and all us old barracuda playing tug-of-war with him it didn't take long for Kouji to start fraying around the edges if you know what I mean. After a few years of that he got to be a little jumpy, a little paranoid even beyond what's required for the job.
"And then, when Zabuza nearly lopped his head off, Lord Oku…well, he kind of came off the tracks and struck a terrible bargain using Mist Village forbidden jutsu which, as Mizukage, he had unlimited access to. Tell me, Constable," asked Inoue in a weighty voice, "have you much experience with the supernatural?"
Haku frowned. In his profession, such kinds of things could not be avoided but, truth be told, Naruto Uzumaki and his Nine-Tailed Fox was the closest he'd ever come to what the Mist Village councilwoman was very clearly talking about now.
"No," she assumed from his hesitation, "I wouldn't expect that you would. Pray you never do."
Haku
At the gravesite of the Demon of the Hidden Mist and his apprentice, at the appointed hour of dusk before the night of the full moon, two strangers waited. One, shaggy-haired and powerfully built, looked out over Wave Country – a vista bathed in orange from the rays of the departing sun. His bespectacled comrade, with thinning, chestnut-brown hair dusted with white, lingered weakly, the man's balance uncertain as his rheumy, sad, brown, basset-hound eyes stared vacantly into space.
At the entrance to the clearing, a wild wind sprang up out of nowhere, breaking the peace and pulling fallen leaves and scraps of grass into its rustling whirl. The two men turned toward it as the dust-devil's roaring intensity swelled then sharply vanished, leaving in its place a slight, zodiac-masked figure with long, black hair pinned back, a knee-length jade robe worn over a brown, turtle-necked shirt, and pleated black, hakima-style pants – a ghost from the recent past.
"I understand you wish to speak with me," observed Haku, Zabuza Momochi's living disciple in a chilling, dispassionate contralto worthy of his reputation. "By all means, speak."
The chestnut-haired man's mouth fell open in amazement at the vision before he regained his composure, dabbed at his trickling nose with a handkerchief then started to bow. His companion stopped him.
"Young master," the larger, shaggy-headed man said to The Demon's Apprentice in a confident baritone, "My name is Tohma of the Nikai family and this is Lord Noriyasu of the Tsujita. We represent Water Country's blood-gifted clans which, like yours, were all but wiped from the face of the earth. We have come a long way merely for the privilege of speaking with you and have no other designs than that, so please," he offered with a knowing, mercurial smile, "no tricks?"
After a moment, all color drained from Haku until he, his clothing and mask were nearly transparent. The water-clone collapsed abruptly to the ground with an undulant splash.
The two men turned by slow degrees then towards the tree-line at their left as they noticed the slender, sweet-faced and black-haired teenager standing there, unassuming in a grey hooded sweatshirt and well-worn jeans.
Tohma's face washed with joy. "Lord Aramata," he greeted reverently and bowed low, "this is truly an honor."
Haku, with a flicker of disconcertion coming over his face, returned the courtesy. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because, that is your name," the taller newcomer illuminated then asked almost as an afterthought, "did your master Zabuza never tell you?"
The young shinobi shook his head. "The past meant nothing to him."
Tohma mulled over the boy's remembrance, gave a sage nod and raised a hand to his barrel chest before he explained with certain gravity: "The past means everything to me."
"So," Haku ventured after a pause, "you…and he --?"
"Yes, we are among those few who survived the massacres. I am a Nikai patriarch just as Noriyasu is for the Tsujita. Among us in our enclave are descendants of the Serizawa and the Kaguya as well."
Haku's expectant face fell. "I see," he offered disappointedly, "so there is no one left of my family."
The two men looked at each other, and this time it was Noriyasu who answered in a mellow, weary voice: "I am sorry, my lord, you are the only Aramata scion anyone has ever heard of. I know it's a hard thing – to live your life apart from others, having to keep your heritage concealed. My own clan has been cast to the winds; our history, like yours, erased. Like you, I am a lord in name only."
The teenager swallowed, feeling the weight of history drape heavily over him.
"Let us talk not of what has been lost but of what remains and what is to come," suggested Tohma in grand transition. "Discovering that you are still alive has us all quite excited; to think that the blood of all five clans still flows within beating hearts. It's truly miraculous and a prophetic sign that our plans to balance the scale with the authors of our tragedy will meet with success."
Haku's eyes flicked up at this turn. He'd heard that messianic tone before in the voice of his late master on the eve of the coup d'etat. "Meaning?"
"Young lord," began Tohma, "know that your clan's death will not go un-avenged for we have the means to answer that injustice. In two weeks time, all our ancestors, yours and mine will rejoice in the afterlife…for Kirigakure will be no more."
Haku squinted at the unlikely-looking, would-be 'Shiva' dubiously and canted his head. "You," he repeated as if just to clarify, "you intend to destroy the Mist Village?"
"I tell you, Lord Aramata, that the moment of reckoning is at hand. For almost three years now, since you and Zabuza --."
The broad-shouldered ninja's sad-eyed companion sneezed hard then, suddenly and explosively enough to send the man's glasses flying from his reddening face, interrupting the Nikai patriarch in mid-declamation and making Haku recoil reflexively. He sneezed again even harder then harder still and the older man struggled to keep his handkerchief clasped tightly over his nose and mouth. Lord Tsujita's body shook and bent as a fit of coughing took him. The man dropped feebly to his knees, wracked with pain, gagging and retching uncontrollably with bile dribbling from his mouth until at last he resorted to a hand sign and was able, finally, to quiet himself.
Haku stared uncertainly, shaken by the sight, then saw the blood – a stain of bright, brilliant red against the white cloth of the man's handkerchief. "Noriyasu?" the constable asked with deep concern then reached toward him, "Lord Tsujita…are you all right? We have a hospital in town now. I can arrange to have you admitted without question if you --."
The recovering ninja waved him off. "Th-thank you, Lord Aramata, for your kind sympathy," the man rasped, but his ragged tone and the wobbly way he stood did nothing to reassure. Tsujita gaped at the bloody handkerchief and watched as it fell from his quaking, unresponsive fingers. "It's nothing," croaked he in a harsh whisper. "It…it will p-pass."
Tohma recovered his fellow patriarch's spectacles then helped him with a steadying hand. "Brother Noriyasu has sacrificed much for our cause," the shinobi observed before turning his attention back toward Haku. "Lord Aramata, in only two weeks time we, the survivors of Kirigakure's blood-gifted clans, will take our revenge on those who tried to destroy us. We would be honored beyond what words can express if you would join us."
Haku's expression blanked for a moment before he shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "So, first you tell me that that there are others like me still alive and then, in the very next breath, you tell me that you're all going to go kill yourselves?"
"Lord Aramata --," Tohma started, but the teenager was past listening.
"You're fools, do you know that!?" snapped Haku. "My Master had a plan, the opportunity and nearly half the senior ranks behind him during the coup and still we were turned back. You'll march off to war and die, and whatever remains of your clans won't live long past that. Wasn't THAT how the Kaguya got wiped out in the first place?" Having been informed that he sometimes talked too much, the teenager looked to end it there but the more he thought about it the angrier he grew. The young ninja had often wondered if things would have turned out differently for his poor master had he not kept quiet his uncertainly about the coup attempt, and then his outright misgivings about Zabuza's accepting a contract to murder a harmless and hardworking grandfather in Wave Country. No, the problem wasn't that he talked too much, but too little!
Pacing back and forth amidst the gravesite clearing where he himself was to be buried, SHOULD have been buried if not for a stroke of providence, Haku turned back to the pair and fired: "I would have hoped that any of us left would understand the value of life enough not throw it away on some…on some ridiculous fantasy of revenge!"
Haku glared, his schoolgirl's face set in a scowl. "Do you think they're all completely incompetent in the Mist Village? Do you think they don't know jutsu at least as terrible as yours? Oh, if you all have a bloodline you'll manage to kill a great number of people, of that I have no doubt," lashed the young shinobi in a voice dripping with scorn, "but in the end, Kiri will rise up as they always have before and be doubly vengeful at having been attacked. Did you really think I would join you in this?!
"Let me be clear," concluded Haku before his visitors could break in, his tone unequivocal, "I want nothing to do with you or your plan; nothing! And I pray that you will come to your senses and reconsider."
Tohma, who seemed to weather being upbraided by a boy many years younger in stride, nodded with uncommon patience. "I assure you, young lord, that our plans against the Mist Village are not nearly as farfetched as they may seem. But if that is how you feel," he offered in a penitent voice, "then I understand completely. If, by the powers of Heaven and Earth, you have attained a measure of happiness in this uncertain world then far be it for us to disturb it. You have our apologies."
Haku, still upset, nevertheless nodded his acceptance. What else could he do?
"Oh," Tohma started again, this time with an awkwardness he clearly wasn't used to, "there is an…unrelated matter I must broach with you before we depart. Our Young Master, Tensai Kaguya, remains distraught, knowing that he injured you horribly and on the grounds of your own estate. He made me swear that I would beg for your forgiveness on his behalf and report to him faithfully your answer. At even a hint of your displeasure, Tensai has vowed to turn the fearsome powers of his kekkei-genkai upon himself."
Haku's lips parted as he pieced together what and who Tohma was referring to -- that horrific encounter with the lone Kaguya descendant on Kori no Hana island. The ninja's gaze dropped as he remembered flashing razors of blood-slicked bone; eyes afire with madness and transcendent fury. Just the thought brought a heavy, sick feeling into the pit of his stomach.
Tensai, Haku repeated to himself, brow narrowing. So, the monster has a name.
"Please, my lord," the older ninja implored, his tone free of any artifice. "Tensai is…very delicate in many ways and on occasion succumbs to confusion. His mind is susceptible to the most elaborate fantasies where he cannot distinguish what is real from what is imaginary. Truly, young sir, he had no idea who you were when he attacked you."
The teenager grimaced…but concluded in the end that it wasn't right to begrudge the Kaguya or answer his caretaker's deeply earnest pleas with contempt. If that alone had been insufficient, then Haku's fresh experiences with giving and accepting forgiveness from his new friends here and in the Village Hidden in the Leaves -- Tazuna, Inari, Sakura, Kakashi and especially Naruto -- were more than enough to sway him towards charity.
"Please," Haku prevailed with unreserved sincerity, "tell Tensai that I forgive him."
Tohma's expression flickered with relief as he gave the teenager a bright, grateful smile. "Thank you, Lord Aramata," said the man as he bowed. "You are too generous."
"In the same vane, Lord Tohma, Lord Tsujita," Haku countered, knowing even as he spoke that the attempt was probably futile, "I urge YOU to forgive. If what I have to say means anything to you then please, live your lives…and let those in your charge and those in Kirigakure live theirs. That is a cause in which I would certainly join you with all my heart."
Both ninja appeared taken aback for a moment, moved by the young shinobi's appeal.
"You are an heir worthy of the Aramata name, young master," answered Tohma gravely, "and we truly regret that we cannot follow your wisdom. But there are some things that are beyond forgiveness."
Thanks so much for reading and being patient. Have a great Thanksgiving!
--Jono'
