Chapter 161
Gifts of Cooperation, Consequences of Conflict: Let the War Begin!
Knuckles rapped against the wooden door, coaxing a calm, automatic response from Mei Terumī.
"Enter," she called while poring over a scroll, hidden behind the tall barricade of manilla folders, scrolls, and paperwork stacked upon her desk.
Her office was host to a constant stream of guests as of late. The only way it could've been busier is if an army of revolutionaries decided to batter the door down and seize control, which would only get in the way of all this paperwork.
Each time someone knocked, or merely opened the door, Mei wondered what it looked like beyond the walls of her office.
Was there a line that stretched from the door of her office, down through the tower, all the way out onto the streets and around the block? Perhaps stretching to the gates themselves?
Likely not. The disturbances weren't nearly that consistent. Yet they were many and often all the same. At times she felt like an oracle, a master of divination guaranteeing a glimpse into one's future, drawing the masses to line up to see what the fates had written for them, while dropping their hard earned money into her hands.
If only the interruptions were so profitable. She would have made enough to rebuild a whole sector of the Mist just yesterday.
Who would it be this time, she wondered. Shinobi of the regular forces? Zabuza? An agent of the Anbu Black Ops? The dreadful Council members seeking another tired argument?
Perhaps it was a lead doctor bearing news of a wonderful breakthrough or a dark prediction? Could it be Ao or Natsumi? Or another face and name she'd seen within the last few days but couldn't recall.
Lately, it seemed, she scarcely had a moment to herself. Those she did have were possessed by the grim clutches of paperwork. Hardly what any sane individual would call respite.
It had quickly reached a tipping point where Mei ceased to look up or halt a task every time someone entered; although good manners were paramount, sometimes necessity demanded them to be abandoned, such as when the surface of one's desk disappeared beneath a deluge of mission reports, requests, and every manner of form, application, petition, and assessment imaginable.
If she didn't stem the tide, her tenure as Fifth Mizukage would end in a tragic, once-in-a-lifetime drowning by paper, all before she found a man capable of sweeping her off her feet.
What a dreadful end that would be.
The duties of a Mizukage were sorely lacking in romance. Unless you considered life-altering decisions and long nights of paperwork romantic. Then it was excruciatingly erotic.
Mei exhaled a soft sigh. Oh, how she longed for a flame to ignite. To saunter down a trail of rose petals left behind by a lover, feeling the soft petals beneath her bare feet, surrounded by the delicate and fresh aroma as the natural red carpet led her to a secluded meadow, a bedroom, a fireplace, or mountain vista.
It would need to be spring, of course, were they to pick a mountain vista in the Land of Water. Mei wanted romance, but not at the cost of comfort.
Nobody enjoyed lying nakedly on snow or ice. No one sane, at least.
There, at their chosen spot, she would find a blanket or bed, depending on the setting, illuminated by scented candles dancing in the dimming light of evening. Perhaps a few treats as well—like the famous delectable chocolates of the Crescent Moon Kingdom.
And he would be there, waiting for her—whoever he ended up being. He would guide her to the blanket or bed, and she would lose herself in their intimate gaze. Amid ardent kisses and sensual touches. And they would selfishly indulge in the heat of passion beneath candlelight.
Or, perhaps, they would lose themselves to passion beneath starlight and a colorful aurora borealis, similar to the one which crossed the sky some nights ago.
How truly magnificent that would be. However, what I desire most right now is a tender massage.
The Mizukage hummed in discomfort, lifting her chest and pulling her shoulders back when she felt her posture beginning to falter.
I feel so stiff.
As a result of the foreign invaders, the migraine caused by the Crimson Flowers and Fourth Mizukage's regime was distorting their vision, splitting their skulls open and leaving her people in a state of worsened malaise and irritability.
So, when the door to her office opened, Mei didn't raise her gaze. She had too much to do. These mounting problems wouldn't vanish if she buried her head in the sand; the previous regime already made that mistake at the cost of so much. Too much. Far too much.
It was also unbecoming of a Mizukage to delay or procrastinate. Although Natsumi's aid would truly be a godsend, her assistant was already far too busy investigating the invader's vessels and artillery, now that they were decommissioned.
She didn't have time to wait. Procrastination was an even greater evil at this stage. Every minute, every hour, counted, it would determine how many survived. And how many would be claimed by the cold clutches of death.
Nor could Mei bring herself to do as the Council recommended and act on ruthless calculus. Not yet. Not while there was a chance to act on compassion.
However, the window for compassionate action was closing. Rapidly.
The Mizukage noted the two distinct sets of footsteps, hurried in their approach. Heavy and light swords shifted and jiggled distinctly on their harnesses. Then there was an anxious apology.
"Lady Mei, I'm sorry we're late."
Mei's eyes snapped off the paperwork, rising to see Chōjūrō and Haruhi hurrying to her desk.
"Chōjūrō, Haruhi, you've returned," she greeted, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.
Mei set down the scroll, rose from behind her cherry wood desk, and quickly rounded it, the heels of her sandals clicking lightly on the floor.
"Here, let me get a better look at you."
An eternity had passed since their faces last graced her office. Ever since she sent them to locate Raiga Kurosuki.
Of course, traveling across the sea, through the Land of Fire into the Land of Rivers and back required significant time; it was a long journey, made longer by the discretion required to cross the Land of Fire unnoticed.
However, in their prolonged absence she'd begun to worry. Needlessly, she could now see. They were here. Safe and sound. Haruhi also carried the Kiba Blades.
Raiga's absence was telling, but not unanticipated. She would ask of his status later.
"You both appear to be in good condition," Mei scrutinized. Like a doting parent, she was certain Zabuza would say. "Although, Haruhi, you appear to be favoring your right arm. Are you well?"
"I will be, Lady Mei. However, I am more concerned with the foreign invaders," Haruhi replied.
"Ah, so you've already heard of them," Mei noted, sitting gently on the edge of her desk.
"So Osamu was right. They're targeting the Mist, too," Chōjūrō judged anxiously, as was his nature.
Mei tilted her head calmly. "Osamu?"
"One of Atsuko's Crows," he explained. "On our way home we encountered a massive land-ship—a roaming tower of metal. It was destroying everything in its path. Devastating the land like a tornado; it snapped trees in half without effort, chewed up and spat out homes and stones and anything else it plowed over. Fires rose wherever it went. Osamu and the Crows were monitoring it, so we sort of ran into each other."
"Mm. To think they have a vessel of such destructive capabilities roaming on land," Mei ruminated, brow knitting together.
Their advanced technology continues to amaze and horrify me. I dare not think of what would've occurred had we not snuffed out their invasion before it could truly begin.
"Harsh though it may be," she continued aloud, "I am relieved they sent that vessel to the Land of Fire. Our Nation is struggling enough already.
"However, encountering the Crows was to be expected," she added, nodding slightly. "Atsuko and her agents have obviously woven a tight web through the Land of Fire during these uncertain times."
"Yes," Chōjūrō agreed. "The Crows made their presence known from the start of our journey. One of their agents circled us from the Land of Fire all the way into the Land of Rivers. Probably to make sure we weren't up to anything nefarious, and likely to protect us from unnecessary conflicts with the Leaf."
"What is the status of the invaders?" Haruhi asked, cutting straight to the point. "Shall we head to the front-lines of battle? We are ready to join the fight."
"Easy, Haruhi," Mei smiled warmly. "At present, the invaders pose no threat to the Land of Water."
The foreigner's invasion ended on the sea, she explained, their vessels captured in the snaking bodies of frozen Water Dragons; it would remain a feature of their coastline until they finished investigating the vessels from top to bottom, which would take some time.
The foreigner's leader met her end in the ensuing battle. Additionally, they located the source of their puppet soldiers—a collection of children, teenagers and adults contained in water-filled spheres.
In the immediate aftermath, not a single soul showed signs of responsiveness despite there being no medical reason discernible for their unresponsive states.
So, they remained persons-of-interest. Mei wasn't certain whether to call them prisoners or refugees, or whether they were volunteer soldiers or slaves.
The situation had changed since that breathtaking aurora painted the sky.
"It seems, for the moment, the conflict has transformed from the threat of war into a refugee crisis," Mei explained patiently. "Fortunately, we were able to salvage supplies from their vessels to ease the burden. However slightly that may be.
"But I will not lie, we are strained to our limits right now. With the continued struggles left behind by the Crimson Flowers, the fates of so many remain uncertain."
I wish to help these poor children turned into soldiers by the foreigners, Mei thought, drumming her fingers on the edge of her desk. But, logistically, we're running out of supplies. If I don't find some way to alleviate this burden, our supplies will inevitably run dry.
Eventually—soon—she would be left with naught else but ruthless calculus. It was not a pleasing thought.
"Either way," she continued, "it appears the source of the invader's power has been eliminated. Something—or someone—released their puppet soldiers from their prison. There is also this strange artifact."
Reaching behind a stack of papers, Mei revealed a dull, egg-shaped turquoise stone to her shinobi. She cradled it in her hands as she presented it.
Chōjūrō leaned in, adjusting his glasses and squinting. Haruhi's blank expression did not change.
"It's a stone," she said flatly.
Mei chuckled deep in her chest. "True," she replied. "However, it was also merged with the flesh of the woman who commanded the invaders."
"Merged?" Chōjūrō repeated, straightening his posture, face full of uncertainty. "Why on earth would they do that? Was it surgically placed in their commander's body?"
"Not surgically, no. Truthfully, we're not sure how it became merged with the commander's body; our autopsy reports are inconclusive in that regard.
"Yet by the accounts of all those who battled her—Fuugetsu, Haku, and Keiko among them—this small stone possessed incredible power. They witnessed her exhibit strange abilities, including an animalistic transformation and a passive healing much like a jinchūriki.
"Before the aurora borealis glimmered across our sky, this stone glowed and shimmered, emanating warmth and power Natsumi, Keiko, Ao, nor I could sense any limitations to. Now it lays dormant. Dull. Now it seems no different than any ordinary stone you may pick up on the road. I have a hunch these events are connected, though no evidence to support it at the moment."
"Perhaps the Leaf or Sand shinobi are responsible," Haruhi theorized. "Perhaps, though ignorant of it, our three Nations completed another joint-operation to eliminate these foreign invaders."
Mei cocked an eyebrow. "Another joint-operation? Now that is a curious choice of words."
"Ah, wait, that's right!" Chōjūrō became flustered. "We haven't explained anything about our mission. Besides the Crows presence, I mean. But I was so worried about possible invasion I totally forgot to tell you. Sorry. It should've been one of the first things I said."
"It's okay, Chōjūrō," Mei smiled at the nervous boy, almost laughing. "You were concerned for the Village's well-being, there is nothing wrong with that. So, let's begin a debrief on your mission to the Land of Rivers."
"The Crows informed the Fifth Hokage of our presence," Haruhi, as always, cut straight to the point. "In response, the Hokage sent Amaririsu Yūhi as an envoy."
Mei listened with rapt attention as Haruhi and Chōjūrō described their meeting with Amaririsu Yūhi and Mimi Inuzuka's squad, beginning with their awkward and tense introductions at a curry shop, which led into the purpose of Amaririsu Yūhi and the Leaf approaching them, and their impressions of the young girl.
Setting aside the stone, Mei crossed her ankles and only asked questions when necessary, eager to learn everything she could.
Amaririsu Yūhi was a stranger to her, a young girl she knew of only through Haku's and Zabuza's impressions, as well as what details Kakashi and Atsuko were willing to part with.
In short, those who spoke of her were attached to the child in some fashion. Amaririsu was the student of Kakashi and the companion of Atsuko.
She was the "little brat" who saved Haku's life and, by extension, saved Zabuza's as well; the leader of the Mist Anbu also saw worth in her abilities and potential, in addition to the debt he felt he owed her.
Finally, Haku considered Amaririsu a kindred spirit. He held her in high esteem. He exhibited an unrestrained affection for the Leaf kunoichi who gifted him, in his belief, something more valuable than all the diamonds and gold in the world.
Mei, for her part, considered Amaririsu an ally. However, Haruhi and Chōjūrō occupied a neutral position, neither bearing any attachment nor innate fondness for the Leaf kunoichi.
Haruhi especially, she knew, was not a soul swayed by other's opinions or pretty words.
That gave their words weight. And their consensus was clear.
"She is like you, Lady Mei," Haruhi stated.
"She really is," Chōjūrō agreed, nodding. "She's so warm and kind and passionate about finding an answer to peace, just like you are."
"You flatter me," Mei smiled. "I was already eager to meet her someday. Hearing your impressions has only intensified that feeling."
Chōjūrō and Haruhi proceeded to detail their cooperation to handle Raiga and the Kurosuki Family, and how negotiations with Raiga eventually fell apart.
Her shinobi made no excuses for it, even when it was clear some boy named Karashi had pushed Raiga over the edge and out of reach.
Mei approved of their decision to save the civilian; it aligned to the core values of their reforming Village.
Silently, however, she lamented Raiga's mental instability and his eventual demise. He was not entirely to blame for his condition. The previous administration of the Mist had warped him. Twisted him. Broken him.
What they found were the shattered fragments, glued together by a Family he'd finally found. Starting with a dying young boy who changed his life and the infamous Pirate Queen, both who had died or been slain over the course of their mission.
The scars the battle left on her shinobi's souls were as visible as any scar on flesh. It pained Mei's heart to see it.
"In his final moments," Chōjūrō said softly, "Master Raiga expressed his belief that an era was ending. He believed The Dark Times would be replaced by an Era of Light. He knew you felt the same way. And he was sorry… Sorry he couldn't be the man we hoped to find."
"Raiga…" Mei shut her eyes and exhaled deeply through her nose.
I cannot apologize for what my shinobi did to you, she thought. It would be insincere of me, for I am pleased they survived, even if their survival came at the cost of your life and the lives of your Family.
However, I truly hope you have found the peace this cruel world of ours refused to give you.
"I'm sorry we couldn't bring anyone back, Lady Mei," Chōjūrō apologized.
"There is nothing to apologize for," she said, shaking her head once. "This was always a possibility. Additionally, although Raiga could not return, we have still gained a new Swordsman in Haruhi. This mission was a complete success."
Mei uncrossed her ankles and rose to her full height, then rested her hands on Chōjūrō's and Haruhi's shoulders. "Raiga entrusted the future to us. We will see to it an Era of Light will come from this darkness, I promise."
"As will we," Haruhi swore.
"Right!" Chōjūrō nodded sharply.
"Furthermore, thanks to your tempered actions, we know the Fifth Hokage believes our desire for peace is genuine. We know Amaririsu and members of her generation seek the same peace and cooperation as us. They've shown they're willing to shed blood and fight in the face of a powerful enemy beside us. You showed them that same willingness.
"You were shining symbols of our reforming Village. Pardon me if it sounds arrogant, but I'm proud to be your Mizukage," Mei said sincerely, smiling at the pair.
Chōjūrō blushed. Haruhi stood a little straighter.
They painted a picture of cooperation she'd only ever dreamed of. Leaf and Mist shinobi fighting side by side, shoulder to shoulder, without hesitation. Without suspicion or a knife at the ready to sever ties once it became convenient.
I never imagined it would happen so soon, Mei thought. Such boldness from the Fifth Hokage.
It was a good sign for the future, equalled and accented by receiving the latest letter from the Fifth Hokage herself.
Mei released their shoulders and placed her right hand on her hip. "We are still a long way from achieving an Alliance, but your cooperation with the Leaf shinobi has taken us leaps and bounds closer to our goal.
"Now it is more than Haku's bond with Amaririsu and Team Seven," and, dare I say, my growing bond with Kakashi, "that ties us together. For that, I thank you."
New bonds had formed where she hadn't expected it. There was still more work to do, of course—an entire desk full of it. She wouldn't see the fruits of her labor flourish today or tomorrow, but this was a victory. Validation that they were heading in the right direction.
She just had to keep them on course.
Upon returning to the Leaf Village beneath the chilly mid-morning rays, Team Seven, Team Ten and the members of the Medical Corps passed through the busy streets of their village to the chorus of hammers, saws and drills, which were as normal as the sunrise and sunset now.
Amari wondered how it would feel when rebuilding ended. When the now familiar sounds of construction vanished and the Village returned to its previous state of peace.
Would she recognize it? Or would the Village seem completely different again, as it had after the Invasion.
She wondered if they would finish rebuilding before the war began. She worried what it would mean if they didn't. Then quickly discarded the anxiety the thought caused on a deep breath.
Their company thinned along the way as members of the Medical Corps, except the lead doctor, departed for the hospital.
When they arrived at the Hokage's office, Shizune ushered them in with a warm greeting before she returned to the side of the seated Hokage, who was pressing her official seal into some form. Thus their debrief began.
Internally, Amari harbored certain…concerns over impending punishments for her team.
It seemed safe to assume the success of their mission—saving the world had to count as a success, right?—would limit any manner of punishment Tsunade might dole out for shoehorning themselves into another major incident. There was also their new Intel regarding the potential new Kazekage.
Maybe that would count in their favor?
Yet, well… There was no sugar-coating it. They'd been shoved out of the Leaf on a do-nothing mission without being told why, though she already had suspicions. And what happened? They ended up at the center of a foreign invasion, unearthing an ancient power, and saving the world. When they were supposed to be doing nothing.
We're going to be buried in D-rank missions, aren't we?
Amari didn't dare ask.
They detailed the events from start to finish. Hearing it all again, Amari almost wanted to smile; it sounded utterly insane. Like an extravagant tale they'd concocted to hide their laziness or inability to capture a ferret.
An ancient power, The Beyond, knights, monsters, a spirit of herself from another world, who could believe all of that? It sounded too crazy to be real. She wouldn't have blamed the Hokage for doubting any of it.
Tsunade never mentioned any doubts. She never demanded them to stow the lies and tell the truth. She listened attentively, as did Shizune, to the two squads and the lead doctor recount their experiences, their battles, and the inevitable conclusion and parting of Temujin's people across the sea.
First to the Land of Water, joined by Atsuko, and then back to his homeland.
When the lead doctor had finished all of his report on the refugees they'd handled, Tsunade dismissed him with words of gratitude and freed him to return to the hospital.
Team Seven and Team Ten remained, relaxed but still more or less at attention.
Nothing was said for a long moment. Not until the door sealed shut, and not for a few seconds after that as the Hokage gathered her thoughts.
"First off, I'd say congratulations are in order," Tsunade began sincerely. "Although it wasn't my intention to involve you with these invaders, without it, we may have acted far too late to stop Haido from capturing this Vault of Gelel. Both of your squads went above and beyond to prevent a cataclysm we could not have foreseen. For that, you have my thanks."
She started with congratulations. Amari shared a knowing glance with Shikamaru. His dark gaze shared the same dreadful premonition she felt. You always start with an apology or congratulations before you lay in the bad news.
Tsunade clasped her hands together on her desk. "Furthermore, by working alongside the Sand shinobi, you kids have helped strengthen our Nations bond. Every little bit counts as we start fresh after the Invasion. Your meeting with the potential new Kazekage has also shed some light on the internal situation within the Sand. It seems you even made a good impression on her.
"Assuming she is as honest as you believe, the Alliance between Leaf and Sand has the potential to become stronger now than it ever was before. Now as for Pakura's meeting and friendship with Mei Terumī, that's an interesting wrinkle with the potential to alter the landscape of the shinobi world. Forever."
"But?" Shikamaru prompted.
Tsunade tilted her head. "But what?"
"It sort of sounds like you're leading towards a reprimand, Lady Tsunade," Amari pointed out.
"Huh? Does it really? Well, it would've been nice to see that Book for more information." Tsunade shrugged. "Although I suppose it was just a dusty old book anyway, now that The Power is sealed away."
"Yeah. It's just a record of the nomads history now," Amari agreed softly. "A record of all they had, and all they lost."
But it isn't without its secrets, she kept to herself. I left the Book of Gelel in Kahiko's possession so they'd have a scrap of their history. But I also left it in his possession so it'd never end up in the hands of the Five Great Nations. This way no one will ever try looking for The Power. Now it can finally vanish from the world.
The Power was far away now. Sealed far out of the reach of the power hungry grasps of shinobi.
Even so, Amari didn't want to take chances. She didn't want the current world powers to seek the secrets within the Book, or for men like Orochimaru and the Masked Man to seek The Power itself—wherever it may be.
Better the Book, it's contents, and The Power be forgotten all together. At least while humanity continued to war with itself. What better way for it to disappear than in the hands of a roaming caravan.
Maybe someday they'd be ready for it. Maybe someday they would be capable of handling those secrets and The Power without corrupting it with greed.
But someday isn't today.
"Anyway, good work all of you," Tsunade congratulated. "Now that you're back, I have assignments already prepared for all of you."
"Assignments?" Shikamaru did well to keep his tone neutral, and not the complaint he wished to voice.
Amari tried not to wince visibly. Ah crap. Here it comes. D-rank city.
"Yes. The Crows informed me of your arrival, so everything is already set. Ino and Sakura, your training materials are waiting for you in our usual spot. I want you to head there immediately."
Both kunoichis straightened their posture.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Ino.
"Of course, milady," said Sakura.
Then they departed. Immediately, as commanded.
"Shikamaru and Chōji, Asuma is waiting for you at the usual training field. Apparently he has special training prepared for both of you."
"Ah man, what a pain," her cousin moaned beneath his breath. "Come on, Chōji. We shouldn't keep him waiting or he'll really drill us into the ground."
"I hope we can get barbecue afterwards. I'm starving," Chōji said, rubbing his belly.
"I'm sure we will, buddy."
"Good luck," Amari offered.
"Yeah. You too, 'Risu."
"See you later, Amaririsu," Chōji said, waving as he and her cousin left.
"See you, Chōji."
That left her, Sasuke and Naruto as the last three standing in the Hokage's office. Amari wondered if they were about to learn the cause of Shizune quickly shoving them out the gate, or if an even greater punishment awaited them.
Tsunade opened a drawer in her desk, retrieved a small scroll, and said, "Naruto, this is for you."
She then tossed it to the boy. He caught it, making a confused noise as he looked at it.
"What's it for, Granny Tsunade?"
"One of Jiraiya's toads delivered it. It's training material he came up with designed specifically for you, since he's still out on his investigation. Kakashi is waiting for you today at your usual training grounds."
"I swear, if it's just another really long scroll with determination or something written inside…" Naruto grumbled. Then shook his head. "I'll check it out, I guess. But there's something else I'd really like to know, Granny. I haven't had the chance to ask, but Granny Mito said you could tell me about my mom."
"Mm. I was wondering when you'd bring that up." Tsunade leaned back in her chair. "I'm surprised it took you so long. I expected you to be clawing down my door or dropping out of the ceiling every chance you had."
"Guess I've just been trying to process some of it on my own. Besides, I've also been training super hard to understand the Adamantine Chains, not to mention missions and stuff. So, do you think you can tell me?"
"Well, I don't have time at this exact moment. After this debrief is over I have to oversee Sakura and Ino's training while I finish more paperwork. But we will talk about it, or I'll have Jiraiya fill you in, if I don't get the chance."
"Pervy Sage?" Naruto squinted and furrowed his brow. "What's he got to do with my mom?"
"A lot, actually."
"Wait, he's not secretly my dad or something, is he?"
Sasuke snorted. Amari pressed her hand to her forehead, smiling at both the inanity and sincerity of the question.
"No, Naruto. He's not secretly your father," Tsunade drawled, resting her cheek on her fist as she smiled.
"He didn't, you know, peep on her, did he?"
"Gods no!" The Hokage's expression was caught somewhere between scrunching in disgust and dying of hysterical laughter. "If Kushina had ever caught him peeping you never would've met that lecherous old fool."
"Then how are they connected?"
"You'll have to ask him yourself when he returns. It'll be easier, trust me," Tsunade cut off his attempt to argue. "He knew Kushina better than I did. He can answer all of your questions, and more. Now then, Sasuke," she directed her attention to the Uchiha, "you'll be training with Kurenai this afternoon. Prepare your mind as best you can."
"Got it," Sasuke nodded.
"All right, you both have your training assignments. I need to speak to Amaririsu alone for a moment."
Naruto and Sasuke hesitated. Before Tsunade could reprimand them, Amari reached out, squeezed both of their hands and said, "Go on. Don't keep my mom and Kakashi-sensei waiting."
It didn't alleviate their yearning to stay, she knew. Regardless, they squeezed her hands in return and left without further arguments.
Once the door shut for the final time, Tsunade waited again for a few moments. In the silence she crossed one leg over the other. Miss Anbu suddenly appeared in the room.
"They're gone," she informed. "This room is secure."
"Good. Now then, I assume you now understand why I sent you out in a hurry."
Amari nodded. "Being an envoy gathered some unwanted attention. Specifically the attention of the Foundation or the Elders. Or both."
"The Elders," Tsunade confirmed, nodding once. "I need you to keep a low profile in the Leaf for now. Expect D-rank missions within the Village and, when appropriate, beyond it as well, whenever you aren't being drilled by Kakashi, Kurenai, Guy, or a substitute they decide on."
"I understand," Amari replied.
There was no sense in arguing. And, frankly, no real reason to.
She understood the careful and delicate balancing act they were caught in. The Masked Man recent appearance only intensified its necessity. As did the interest of the Elders.
"This isn't a punishment, I want to clarify. As we spoke before, the Crows can conscript any shinobi if the need calls—even a member of the Anbu," she gestured to Miss Anbu. "And as your mission report proves, the need was dire.
"So, even though they are far beneath your current skill level—it will feel like busy work—these D-ranks, in addition to your training, will keep you out of sight and out of their mind. At least until their immediate interest wanes."
"Honestly, it's not a big deal," Amari replied sincerely. "I'd only just gotten to start training again before this recent mission, so if keeping a low profile means I get to train more, that's fine by me. I'll give their intense training regimen all I've got. That's the only way I'll be ready in less than ninety days."
"Good attitude," Tsunade nodded in approval. Then looked to Miss Anbu, eyes as sharp as a blade. "Do not let your guard down. If those nosy old fools are interested in her, the Foundation must be as well."
"Of course. I will root out any Foundation spies, should they emerge," Miss Anbu promised.
"Good. Now then, since Kakashi, Kurenai and Guy are all busy with Naruto, Sasuke and Mimi, you will be training with Yoshino, per Shikaku's orders."
"Ah, there it is," Amari winced, then slumped beneath an invisible mountain of dread. "There's the punishment."
Tsunade and Miss Anbu snorted. Shizune smiled, briefly.
Amari felt no such joy.
For nothing short of hell awaited her. A hell of shadows and physical torment they could not possibly imagine.
Worst of all, it was only the beginning of the hellish week of training that awaited her.
Mei stepped out of the warm, insulated walls of Mizukage tower onto the balcony, into the crisp winter air accented by clear skies.
She needed to stretch her legs. Needed to feel the bitter sting of winter against her face and in her lungs, if only to remember what the outside world felt like.
A few days had passed since Chōjūrō and Haruhi returned. Their refugee crisis remained unresolved.
She needed to find an answer. Before they hit their breaking point.
Before drastic measures became necessary.
When Mei shut her eyes and inhaled the crisp, cold air, she hoped it would ease her anxieties. She expected this short break, this diversion, to breathe new life and strength into her. Perhaps, if the fates were kind, an epiphany would strike out of the blue.
She did not expect the sudden beating of wings, nor the clang of sharp talons gripping around the metal railing. She did not expect a voice, either.
"Lady Mizukage, though the bite of the Land of Water's winter stings, I am pleased to see you again."
Mei's eyes shot open and landed upon the black and silver feathered bird perched on her balcony.
"Atsuko?" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"
The Crow smiled mysteriously. "I bring news that, with luck, will aid you."
Mei had not expected relief to sweep in on black and silver wings.
Yet it had. And she was grateful.
The foreigners immaculate steel vessel loomed over the impoverished port like a floating mountain of metal beside a diorama of toothpicks haphazardly held together by thick, messy globs of glue.
It left a tension in the air. In times of great need, such as those the Land of Water presently faced, abandoning morality and goodness wasn't uncommon in the name of survival.
Haku couldn't blame the poor for thievery or looting. Before Master Zabuza rescued him he had performed similar acts in order to live a day longer. To see another sunrise, hoping today, perhaps, would be the day he would know his reason for existing. Today he would find a reason to keep living. For without a purpose to exist, why did he bother living at all?
Looting, thieving, they weren't the true sickness. He had not stolen because he desired to. He had not searched trashcans, fought off dogs, raccoons, and ate from the garbage because the life of a spited vagabond—a criminal—was appealing.
It wasn't easy. It wasn't a life he wished for any person.
All the same, he had performed those acts. Driven by a primitive instinct to feed himself, to quench his thirst, to shower; these commodities were rare for the homeless and the orphans of any Nation.
Why, some would wonder, did the poor steal? Why did they loot? Why did they resort to crime? The answer truly was simple: Survival. To capture a semblance of the normalcy so many others were fortunate to have. To possess that semblance of human dignity their cruel circumstances had stripped from them.
These crimes were the natural response to poverty. They were a symptom of a systemic illness left behind by the previous regime. Were they to cure the sickness of poverty and build a society of compassion, dignity, and empathy, the only criminals left in the world would be the truly depraved. The truly evil.
Men like the Hound. Men and women like those who ran the Flower Shops, who found pleasure in stealing the dignity of others, no matter how young or old they were. And they, Haku knew, could be removed. One by one, if necessary.
So, in order to negate avoidable loss caused by scavengers, bandits, and rogues seeking a hefty prize, the Fifth Mizukage granted protection to the foreigners steel vessel and the rescued refugees they sought to collect.
Gathered across the port, securing its land entrances and exits, the docks, and the waterways where better equipped and enterprising forces may attempt an ambush from, were the shinobi of the Mist, comprised predominantly from agents of the Anbu Black Ops personally selected by Master Zabuza and Lady Mei.
Some kept their patrols visible—a silent warning to deter potentially foolish acts. Others hid amidst the shadows and the populace. Watching. Waiting.
Haku took his position on the deck of the ship, overseeing the transfer of people and supplies beside the leader of the refugees, who was a young man of long blond hair and emerald eyes, attired in a light colored long-sleeve and pants, the former worn beneath a green vest.
The cold sea lapped against the metal hull. The briny odor mingled with the powerful fumes released by the massive vessel. Cranes lifted the supply crates gathered from the initial invader's vessels off the dock and lowered them onto the ship.
Haku paid little mind to the cranking winches and pulleys. Instead, he monitored the children working the machinery. He stood calm, but prepared to spring into action should aid be required.
Meanwhile, refugees consisting of teens and children shuffled aboard the vessel, met by the friendly and warm greetings of their comrades—also teenagers and children, generally speaking.
Adults were few and far between, he noted, scanning the refugees again and again. Those that were around weren't much older; the oldest Haku had seen couldn't have seen more than twenty-two winters.
The vessel and its equipment were in the command of young boys and girls, each performing menial tasks as though performed hundreds of times, which they had, though he did not know it.
Haku admired their work ethic and cooperation. It reminded him of shinobi squads.
Everyone, big or small, was working together, performing their tasks seriously and admirably. They did not shrug off the heavy burden of their independence and responsibilities to another. They faced it. Carried it. Bore it on their small shoulders, for they were all they had to rely on.
They were all incredibly strong. They would become even stronger in the future. He could feel it.
Still, Haku worried. Their burden was heavy, and though they were strong, the lives of so many children rested in the hands of slightly older children.
"Are you certain you will be well? There are many little ones to care for," Haku pointed out as he observed the deck.
Children already aboard the vessel directed the newcomers into the vessel, out of the winter air where they might find shelter and warmth. Some teenagers were gesturing their hands to indicate where to lower a crate.
"Yes," replied the young man—Temujin was his name. "It will take some adjusting. The armored shells they once inhabited granted them all strength, endurance and invulnerability from all manner of harm. They had no needs, like hunger, or wants beyond the commands of the man who bound their souls.
"However, our experiences taught us a great deal. My friends retained their knowledge while their souls were bound, and that knowledge will see us to our homeland once more. Also, our supplies will last for our journey and beyond. From there…"
Temujin paused and pursed his lips. Haku turned to look at the young man. His emerald gaze was occupied by all the refugees—his friends and comrades. The weight of a leader rested on his shoulders, but his shoulders did not bend or bow beneath it.
He was also strong. Very strong.
"We will walk a difficult path, but this time we'll walk together," Temujin said finally. "This time we'll do it the right way."
"It sounds like you know what you are seeking," Haku noted.
"I do. For many years I thought my eyes were open. When, in truth, I had shut them to the pain and suffering our former Master commanded us to inflict. It took another to force my eyes open. To wake me from the corrupted spell I had fallen under.
"When it was all over she took my broken faith and helped me to reforge it. She washed away my despair with hope, then helped me to see the path I should walk."
Temujin looked up at the sky. "For the first time I see it all so clearly. Our path will be difficult, of course. It will not be without struggle or strife, but as long as we keep getting up, as long as we keep trying, keep reaching out, one day we'll reach a utopia. All of us."
"Mm," Haku hummed, smiling as a warm and familiar feeling embraced his heart. "Or, to put it in her words, it may be troublesome, but it'll be worth it."
"Troublesome?" Temujin's eyes went wide. "Wait a moment, how did you know she used that—"
Haku lifted his fist to his mouth, chuckling softly.
"You know Amaririsu?"
"I do," he nodded, a fond smile on his lips as he lowered his hand.
"How…" Temujin seemed at a loss for words. "She mentioned she had an informal line of communication with a Mist shinobi, but… How did you know I was talking about her?"
"Atsuko. She wouldn't be here if you hadn't encountered Amari," he explained patiently. "Although I've had my suspicions of her involvement for some time now. Ever since that strange aurora crossed the sky," he added, gaze unconsciously rising to gaze at the presently clear atmosphere.
Somehow the atmosphere seemed cleaner. Clearer than he'd ever seen it. Like the aurora had washed away all of the impurities in the world, at least temporarily.
That light…I've never seen anything as wondrous before.
There was a tangible warmth in the aurora, warmth that shielded him—body and soul—from the bitter night air. It embraced him, as Temujin's warm words of his friend had, and touched his soul in a way he could not express. Even Kaito had seemed enraptured by it.
He'd thought of it every night since as he gazed up at the stars. Wondering—hoping, truly—if he might glimpse even a flicker of the aurora once more. If he might feel its warmth again.
If he might feel her presence again.
"It may sound strange," Haku began, "but when I watched the aurora cross our skies, I felt Amari's presence. I felt it all around me. Her spirit. Her dreams and hopes. Her warmth. Her compassion and affection. It was as though they were all entangled within the aurora. I felt at peace."
"It may not be as strange as you think. Although I'm not sure I'm the best suited to explain what or how that came to be," Temujin admitted.
Haku turned his head and smiled at the foreigner. "Don't worry. I am certain Amari will write of you and your experiences."
Temujin opened his mouth, paused, shut it. Then pursed his lips. After a moment, he spoke again.
"It may not be my place to ask this, but…who is Amaririsu to you?"
"She is many things," Haku replied sincerely. "Amari saved my life and my Master's, despite being our enemy. Now she is a friend. An ally. A kindred spirit. A confidant. Amari is…unique. In heart and spirit."
"Yes, she is," Temujin agreed softly.
"I admire Amari. I am inspired by her. I respect her. I owe her my life. Although," Haku chuckled, "she would call me troublesome for still saying that."
Temujin exhaled an abrupt chuckle.
"Amari is very precious to me," Haku said. "I am humbled that she considers me equally precious."
The Mist shinobi did not know how else to put it. He often struggled to put their bond into words. There was no such thing as a feeling that could not be expressed, he truly believed that, but the medium utilized could be constraining. For words alone often fell short of someone's true feelings.
Furthermore, expressing his affection for Amari was…difficult. He often did not know where to start. Were his words too forward? Were they falling short of what he wished to say? He did not know. But he appreciated her patience.
"I think I feel the same. Or at least something very similar," Temujin replied. "We were enemies when we met. I thought her stubborn and naïve, but we were both stubborn, and I was the naïve one. She challenged me. Now I see she was reaching her hand out to me, trying to stop me from making a terrible mistake. I thought she was fighting against utopia, but truthfully, I think she's fighting as hard as anyone."
Haku smiled. "That certainly sounds like Amari."
Temujin turned fully towards the Mist shinobi. "I haven't said it yet, but you have my gratitude for showing my friends mercy," he said, bowing his head slightly. "You could've killed them for the suffering we've caused your Nation. You weren't obligated to accept our request to retrieve them, either."
"I'm sorry we couldn't save all of them," Haku apologized. "Had we known they were aboard, contained in those spheres, we would've acted more cautiously."
"A part of me wishes I could trade my life for all of theirs. However, Amaririsu—or, rather, Haya—guided them to the Pure Lands. They've reached utopia," Temujin claimed, looking off to his comrades. "I have to take solace in that. And ensure this world I leave behind is a little closer to utopia for those who inherit it."
"That is all we can do," Haku nodded. "That is what many of us are trying to do. It will be difficult. Troublesome, as Amari would say. However, we cannot wait for someone to give it to us.
"It is in each of our hands to end this cycle of violence and greed. We must all strive for it. We must combat the darkness of this world with light, cruelty must be fought with compassion, greed with selflessness, hatred with love. We must reach out to others and embody the light within the human heart, I believe that is how we change the world. As Amari has changed ours."
"Right," Temujin replied, nodding sharply. "Little by little we'll lay a strong foundation. Then, one day, a bridge of peace will cross this sea between our continents, bringing forth the utopia we all sought."
Haku hummed in agreement.
Amari, once more you've shown me the power of the light in the human heart. The power of compassion and empathy and mercy. You may not see it, but you're changing the world. One heart at a time.
I hope you are well, my friend.
I look forward to reading your letter, but what I hope for most…
He raised his eyes to the sky. The atmosphere was clear. Cleansed of impurities. Yet in his mind's eye he could see the flickering tails of the aurora, he could feel its warmth, and he could feel her presence deep within it. And deeper within his heart.
I hope I can see you again soon.
Warm sweat streamed up Amari's neck, raining off her face into the coarse dirt road mere inches from her chin and nose as she slowly, carefully, walked her right hand forward. Then her left. Then her right again, alternating one after the other on trembling arms, unable to strangle, let alone curse, Might Guy for the absurdity of his training—it would've taken too much energy.
Amari grunted. Whimpered. Then paused to breathe in and exhale roughly, core tighter than a taut rope on the verge of snapping, and shoulders and back burning fiercer than the fires of the other Haya's Majestic Destroyer Flame.
Civilians standing outside of shops or homes watched her, heads cocked at odd angles and eyebrows raised. Some smiled. A few children giggled and laughed at the absurdity. Others carried on, unbothered by the struggling kunoichi; shinobi training took on all manner of forms, and the physicality required to walk on one's hands, by their estimation, would build some manner of strength for battle. Probably.
Most were merely surprised to see another person taking part. Might Guy had passed through on his hands several minutes ago, and his vision of training and his rivalry with Kakashi Hatake were well-documented by those who had known of or seen them in their youth.
Those unaware of the dynamics wondered if Amari was Might Guy's newest protégé.
Those who knew of her sighed on Amari's behalf. Somehow, someway, Might Guy managed to rope Kakashi Hatake's student into an absurd challenge, they concluded.
Some things never changed.
After another rough breath, Amari moved her right hand forward. A spike of pain clawed at her hand. She grunted and tried not to wince.
God, her hands were cramping, too. Dammit. Like they weren't sore and raw enough already from rock climbing with one hand.
Keep…moving. Keep…moving. One hand at a time. One…at…a time.
Left. Pause. Right. Pause. Left. Pause. Right.
Amari struggled down the street, grunting and heaving like a dying animal. Despite the crisp air and sunny sky, a steady rain poured off her face. A salty tang washed over her tongue. Perspiration soaked through her underwear, her mesh long-sleeve and purple leggings, and into her shorts and grey shirt, darkening her clothes into shades of violet and darker grey.
She hadn't been this sweaty and gross since…yesterday, actually.
It all began with Aunt Yoshino. The troublesome woman had put her through an afternoon and evening of such unmerciful and shadowy hell, Amari stayed for dinner and fell asleep at the table.
Every day that followed over the past week and a half had left her in a sweatier, grosser mess of aches and breathlessness than the day before. Sasuke and Mimi hadn't gotten off any easier, either.
Their trainers made the past week and a half feel like a month. She could only imagine how much harder it was going to get.
Keep…moving. Keep…moving.
Amari centered her mind on the mantra. She focused on moving one hand after the other, keeping her core tight, and breathing as calmly as physically possible to mitigate the exhaustion and pain swelling through her body.
It was slow going. She swore if someone released a tortoise beside her, it would've overtaken her at least twice. Maybe three times. It probably would've completed the task in record time.
Further up the road, and several minutes later, a pair of sandals and toes obstructed her path. Amari halted. God, did she want to maim the person for standing in the way, ruining her methodical rhythm. But that, too, would've taken too much energy. Far too much.
Maiming could wait until later.
Trembling, Amari raised her head. First she saw a pair of grey shin guards. Then the hem of a tan overcoat. Finally skin-clinging mesh armor wrapping around athletic thighs.
She couldn't see anymore of the person; to lift her head higher would've risked injury or, worse, unsettling her balance. However, the coat and mesh armor were enough to discern the obstructions identity.
"Miss…Anko…" she grunted.
"Hey, Shortcake. How's it going?"
Anko's mouth was full, she noticed instantly by the nonchalant chewing as she spoke. Doubtlessly feasting on dango.
Amari couldn't gain a visual confirmation. She tried to sniff the air, then felt the harsh sting of a bead of sweat shooting up her nose. She winced and didn't try again. Didn't need to. When it came to dango, Anko's hunger was insatiable.
That the Snake Mistress managed to maintain her, frankly, enviable figure despite the consistency she ate dango made her all the more enviable.
"Well? How you holding up? Don't leave me waiting in suspense," the Snake Mistress teased sadistically.
"Dying…slowly…" she forced the words out breathlessly.
"Yeah. You look like you've got one foot in the grave, Shortcake. A light breeze might knock you over."
"Thanks… Please…move…"
Before…I…maim you…
"Well, since you asked so nicely."
Anko stepped aside. Had she heard Amari's mental threat, there wasn't a doubt she would've toyed with her more. A narrow escape, but a victory nonetheless.
No longer obstructed, Amari moved her left hand ahead. Then her right. Then her left, letting out grunts every step of the way; awful cramps pinched and burned through her fingers, and her right pinky was beginning to tingle. Not good.
To her surprise, the Snake Mistress walked beside her. Slowly. One step at a time, with long pauses as she waited for Amari to move ahead. It left behind a pit of dread in her upturned stomach.
So much for a narrow escape.
"So, Guy's putting you through the wringer, huh? Mm. This dango is tasty!" Anko said cheerfully through a mouthful of dango. Too cheerfully.
Amari grit her teeth and reconsidered maiming the Snake Mistress.
Kurenai would forgive her, right? It was just a little maiming after all. Nothing fatal. Nothing worse than what the Sound shinobi did to her.
"Bet you'd like a bite. As one of my favorite squirts, I would offer you some, but you'd probably just puke it up. Guess that means more for me. Mmmm! Mm!"
"Meanie…"
Her arm wobbled. She felt her center of balance shift forward. Amari grimaced, tightened her core, and tried to right herself.
At the same time, Anko kneeled beside her, bearing a devilish grin. Slowly, gently, she drew the wooden stick down the bridge of the young girl's sweat soaked nose. Gooseflesh prickled across the Nara's skin; she felt a strangely pleasant shiver tingle down her spine.
A few drops of salty rain fell on the final piece of dango.
"Maybe a little," Anko purred, then bit into her final piece of dango.
Amari scrunched her nose. "Un…sanitary."
"Eh, it's no worse than licking an enemy's blood off my kunai," she retorted, smiling as she chewed on her dango. "Probably safer, too!"
Amari wanted to argue the ludicrous level of risk of that particularly unsanitary behavior, considering the potential for diseases to be transferred by injecting another person's blood. Unfortunately, she lacked the strength and ability for that lecture.
Speaking even a single word was becoming too difficult. It diminished her focus. Expended limited energy. And none of this was helping her regain balance!
"Can't even taste it," the Snake Mistress added offhandedly.
As her legs shifted dangerously forward, Amari shut her eyes and imagined tightening her core and her buttocks like she was tightening a screw. It was then a gentle hand pressed against the center of her back.
At first, startled by the extra support, she nearly recoiled and tumbled in the opposite direction. Somehow, though, she righted herself on noodle arms.
Amari grunted in thanks for the aid, then started walking again.
Anko followed along. The dread in her tummy felt like eels squirming in her intestines.
"You're soaked, you know that?" Anko questioned rhetorically, wiping her wet hand on her coat. She could almost see the woman's scrunched expression. Like she hadn't just eaten a piece of dango with drops of sweat on it.
Gross.
Amari grunted. Of course she knew. She was intimately aware. She could feel her leggings and mesh armor sticking uncomfortably to her skin. She had sweat in places she didn't want to talk about. Especially with Anko.
It may not have been as obvious as her sweat-covered body, but her day hadn't actually started with walking on her hands from the entrance of the Village to the Hokage's Tower.
Oh no, this was just the afternoon exercise Guy concocted, an effort to push the kunoichi to her absolute physical limit. Her day actually started with a warm-up of jump roping. And then it escalated. Fast.
Now the events of the morning all blurred together. She vaguely remembered wearing physical weights, lighter than Lee's, but heavier than the weighted Seals she was used to as they sparred. She remembered running and pull-ups.
Or was that yesterday?
How long had she been even walking on her hands for?
Her shoulders hurt. Her hands ached. She wanted a nice cold shower. Then a warm bath to sink into and never emerge from again.
Amari stepped her wobbly right hand forward. Paused. Took a breath. She moved her timid left hand ahead. Paused. Grunted. Then, as the rain of sweat poured off her red face, where all of her blood seemed to coagulate, she moved right hand forward again.
"Well, I've got good news and bad news, Shortcake," Anko began suddenly.
She'd finished off her dango, but it sounded like she had the stick between her teeth—a tone of speaking Genma familiarized her with.
Amari grunted, whimpered, and lumbered ahead at a snails pace. One quaking arm after the other.
By her estimations, the feeble noises were full inquiry into the good and bad news.
"Bad news first?"
Another grunt and whimper. She moved her left hand ahead, braced it, and held her position, trying to breathe through the pain while searching for every scrap of strength hidden within her body.
"All right. Well, the bad news is you've got a mean looking bridge in your future," Anko informed cheerfully. Too cheerfully.
"Ggh!"
What should've been a groan of despair was naught but a painful grimace. Face red and contorted, Amari lifted her trembling head and saw that, yes, there was in fact a terribly mean bridge in her future. It was an arcing bridge that crossed over one of the streams cutting through the Village.
To Amari's straining eyes it was steeper than Hokage Mountain.
I'm…going…to die.
Her arms quaked beneath her. The strength to keep moving was quickly slipping form her grasps.
Anko crouched beside her.
"Ready for some good news to make all those aches and pains worth it?" she asked, dropping her voice into what some may have considered seductive.
Amari only sensed danger.
"Tomorrow," Anko's dreadfully sinister and seductive voice sent shivers shooting through her trembling body. "I'll be taking command of this new little foursome you're apart of. I've planned a full-day survival exercise. Isn't that exciting?"
Amari's arms collapsed beneath the dread. She had enough sense to throw her momentum forward to crash onto her back instead of her face, but any relief that provided ended upon slamming into the unforgiving earth.
Amid dust and harsh and heavy breaths, Amari stared at the blue sky, obscured by black blots of a strange, blood rush Rorschach test—were those butterflies flying around?
Sweat dripped down her face and neck. The tang of sweat on her tongue intensified.
God, who's bright idea was it to hand them over to Anko? Who had tossed aside their mercy and thrown them to a hungry wolf with a casual shrug?
We're…going…to die.
Suddenly Anko's grinning face came into view. She looked exceptionally pleased with herself as she rolled the dango stick between her teeth. In fact, she looked as cheerful as a child who'd received the most popular toy to play with.
The Snake Mistress reached over and gently pat the young girl's cheek.
"Don't go dying on me now, Shortcake. We're going to have ourselves some fun tomorrow!"
With that, Anko rose, wiping her wet hand on her trench coat again as she strutted off.
Amari could only do what any sweaty girl drained of strength would do.
"Uggggghhhhhhhh!"
She groaned in despair of the coming hell.
And a hell it would be.
Anko had to entertain herself someway training the little squirts.
The sun had not yet risen above the horizon when Amari entered the Hokage's office.
What a way to start the day. Summoned by the Hokage for a mission the morning after surviving Anko's day of torture and terror.
Couldn't it at least wait until the afternoon?
I'll need to thank Mimi later, Amari thought, covering her mouth as she yawned. That I can even move around today is thanks to her Medical Ninjutsu. Between Guy-Sensei, Miss Anko, and all the training the days prior, I was feeling pretty beat up. My hands are still a little sore. So are my forearms.
Man, Kakashi-sensei wasn't kidding when he said this would be the toughest training I've ever gone through.
The toughness was by design, of course. First, it would raise their abilities as high as physically possible in three months. Second, by forcing them to survive hell after hell through training, their bodies and minds would be ready for the real thing. It may even feel routine or easy by comparison.
Hopefully.
"Ah, there you are," Tsunade welcomed while reading a scroll behind her desk.
The scent of matcha tea wafted from the ceramic cup on her desk, from which ribbons of steam rose; the caffeine probably helped for early morning paperwork.
Amari covered her mouth to conceal another yawn. Will she mind if I steal her tea? I could use some caffeine right about now.
"Lady Hokage," she greeted on the end of a yawn.
"How was your survival exercise?"
Long. Arduous. Crazy. Full of encounters with overgrown animals from every corner of the animal kingdom, and plants that were as deadly as the rest of the fauna inhabiting the Forest of Death.
Why on earth had they even cultivated a habitat of deadly animals and plants?
Did they even have contingency plans for if and when a giant snake or bear decided to bulldoze the worn down fence in search of food?
"Anko gave us no quarter, as expected," she replied evenly. Everything else sounded like a complaint. "We figured out how to survive in the worst case scenario. Limited equipment. No backup. Hunted by shinobi behind enemy lines while in an environment as hostile as those shinobi would be."
They had managed it. Somehow. Not without faults. Not without critiques from Anko. Yet they survived and made it home to fight another day.
That had to count for something.
"I also learned what the giant snakes eat, so you could say it was educational, too," she added.
"Hmph," Tsunade snorted, rolling up the scroll and setting it aside. "So you met the other denizens of the Forest of Death."
"They introduced themselves. I can't say it'll be a lasting friendship."
"Probably for the best."
Definitely for the best. Honestly, if I ever see the Forest of Death in person again, it'll be too soon.
"Anyway, that's enough small talk." Tsunade took a long sip of tea, set down her cup, and then rested her hands on her desk. "We've received an immigration request from the Waterfall Village."
Amari blinked. Suspicion hit her like a shot of adrenaline.
"That's an odd request. Out of nowhere, really." She crossed her arms and lowered her chin in thought. "Why would they want anyone to emigrate from their Village? Isn't something like this usually a transfer of shinobi between allied Clans or Villages?"
"Correct," Tsunade nodded. "There are a few reasons for immigration requests. It could be the Village or Clan in question may not have the resources or facilities to properly care for or train the individual or group in question, so they ask a larger Clan or Village to take them on—either temporarily or permanently. They may even ask for some manner of compensation."
"Compensation?" Amari furrowed her brow. "They'd already be asking the Clan or Village to feed, shelter and train a shinobi of theirs. It sort of seems like a one-way trade."
"On the surface. Consider it this way: If a group of shinobi are sent, or a shinobi with, let's say, a kekkei genkai or prodigious talent, the Village or Clan requesting the immigration will then be forfeiting military strength to the larger Village or Clan. So, as compensation, they'll ask for resources, money, military equipment, etcetera, to bolster their loss of military strength."
"Mm. I suppose that makes sense."
"Another reason for an immigration request," Tsunade continued, "is to solidify a bond between two Nations or Clans through integration. You can see this through the unity of kingdoms and Clans in history through arranged marriages," she added with a light gesture of her hand. "Other times it can be done through integrating shinobi into an allies military. Such as transferring Leaf shinobi into the ranks of the Sand and vice versa.
"This can familiarize both sides with the other's customs, their history, and build bonds, as you have, on the ground level, thus strengthening the ties between Nations. Additionally, both sides can learn of the other's military training and practices and, perhaps, learn from each other to create a better system of training.
"There are also times, like with the Uzumaki and Senju Clans, where members of either are generally welcome to emigrate from one Village or Clan to another with minimal hassle. Those close ties leave doors open that, in other circumstances, are sealed shut. Or a special ability of a particular shinobi leads to immigration. Like Naruto's mother, for instance."
Amari hummed. That's right. Kushina Uzumaki, Naruto's mom, was forced to emigrate from her homeland to become the next jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox. All because of her special chakra and compatibility.
It still didn't sit right with her. Adults forcing a child to leave the only home they'd ever known to then become a jinchūriki, without even telling her she would take on the burden of an existence loathed or feared by nearly everyone. None of it seemed right.
Yet, she thought, had Kushina Uzumaki never been forced to emigrate, she may have never met Naruto's father. And then Naruto wouldn't exist at all.
The world would be a lot dimmer.
"Few of those reasons apply to the Waterfall," the Nara began after a moment of thought, lowering her arms. "They're known for their consistency in producing elite Jōnin, so they definitely don't lack the resources or facilities to train a shinobi.
"Moreover, our Villages aren't close allies. In fact, the Waterfall stands as a neutral entity—it's the most profitable position for them. Our borders aren't open, nor are the doors to the Leaf after the recent Invasion. There were also the Stone shinobi Master Jiraiya stopped who slipped through their border, which has done nothing except build distrust between the Leaf and Waterfall.
"And there's no world where the Elders would allow a Waterfall shinobi to become the Nine-Tails jinchūriki. Even if they thought Naruto was too troublesome, they wouldn't trust a Waterfall shinobi to be loyal to the Leaf and the Leaf alone. So, what do they hope to gain?" she pondered.
There had to be some sort of angle. Some gain for the Waterfall in all of this. That's how they—how all Nations—operated.
"You catch on quickly, Amaririsu."
Tsunade leaned back in her chair, resting her elbows on the arms and interlacing her fingers.
"Officially, the Waterfall's request is designed to build a stronger relation between our two Villages. It's set as a D-rank mission, where a shinobi of my choosing—you—will go to speak to their Village leader and observe the individual, or individuals, they hope to transfer into our care. Then you will return, give me your opinion, and negotiations will continue or cease depending on your report."
"And unofficially?" Amari prompted.
"Well, as you've deduced, something is off about this entire request. Their letter was formally written, signed and printed with their Village leader's seal. Yet they provided no identity for the shinobi, or shinobis, in question."
Tsunade frowned. "You weren't wrong. The Waterfall stands to profit the most from a neutral stance. So I can only assume they've made this same offer to the Stone, in which case they're seeking to plant spies among our ranks. That will grant them a better vantage point to see which way the wind is blowing when the war begins."
"Hm," Amari's lips twisted. "The last thing we need are spies from another Nation passing Intel around for profit."
"Precisely. However, you should know, there's a legitimate possibility this could be an elaborate trap to draw a high ranking Leaf shinobi to their death. Or, perhaps, to sneak a Stone shinobi into the Leaf itself."
"You're suspecting they may already be in the pocket of the Stone?"
"Nothing can be ruled out," Tsunade stated seriously.
"How troublesome." Amari brought her hand to her chin. "But I get it. You chose me because of my sensory abilities, in addition to my protection detail."
"Officially you'll be on your own. This will be a solo mission to all eyes and ears. Unofficially, however…"
"You're sending spies and agents they'll never know are there. Spies and agents capable of seeing through and countering any trap the Waterfall thinks of, as well as gathering Intel on their allegiances."
Tsunade nodded, pleased by her conclusion. "I'm glad you're keeping up. I've also chosen you on the chance there are no traps or spies or malicious motives at seem to have a good eye for talent and potential; both Sakura and Ino began to blossom under your watchful eyes.
"See what you can learn of the shinobi, or shinobis, they want to transfer to the Leaf. Use your visual prowess to see beyond them as well."
"I will," Amari replied.
With the Byakugan, the Crows, and Miss Anbu, they'd likely return with a wealth of Intel, assuming it didn't turn into some sort of elaborate trap. Then it'd just be a drag.
"Who will I be linking up with and where? Will I be entering the Waterfall Village?" she asked.
"That was the other suspicious part," Tsunade said, leaning forward to pick up a scroll on top of another stack, ringed with purple stripes on its edges. "The meeting spot isn't within the Waterfall Village itself. It's at a roadside inn outside of its walls. They don't say who you'll be meeting, either."
"This is sounding more and more like a trap." Amari sighed. "But since it's officially signed off by their Village leader, if we just ignore it will be shunning a potential alliance or revealing we don't have the forces to spare.
"Furthermore, it's not a mission suited for a squad, so you can't send several Jōnin without hinting at your suspicions; a squad of Genin could be taken as an insult since they may be seen as too young or inexperienced for such an important mission. Which means you need a Chūnin. Unfortunately, the majority of them are needed for real missions or border duty right now."
Amari couldn't help but shrug. "We're in a bad position no matter where you look at it from."
"Exactly."
"If it's a trap, they've played us perfectly into their hands."
"Then we'll just have to counter it with a trap of our own," the Hokage replied firmly. "That's why I'm sending you and your guard. Figure out what they're after, Amaririsu. And don't neglect your training on the road. Your guard will be teaching you while you are away."
"All right."
That was something to look forward to, at least. They still hadn't made the time to speak without masks, mainly due to the Gelel Incident and the hellish week of training she had been surviving.
Maybe she'd finally learn more about the mysterious woman from her past.
Lady Tsunade finished by handing over all the paperwork required to cross the border, both through the Leaf checkpoints and the Waterfall checkpoints, then dismissed the kunoichi to gather her gear and hit the road.
The sun had only peeked above the horizon when Amari exited her home, escorted out by her mother after a short debrief and a long hug.
"Stay vigilant, little one," Kurenai reminded.
Amari, shielded by a beige cloak, nodded and said, "I will. Don't take it easy on Mimi and Aoko or Sasuke."
"Don't worry. I won't," Kurenai smiled.
"See you when I get home, Mom. Love you."
"And I love you, little one."
With that, she set off for the front gate. There she paused to check in with Izumo and Kotetsu, who were on gate duty for the morning, before leaving the Leaf behind her for the Waterfall Village.
She left while ruminating on the potential trap ahead of her.
Unaware the world would be totally different when she returned.
Across the continent, amid a range of stalwart rocky mountains as old as the primordial world, tower-like structures of rock and stone rose from the earth, fashioned into buildings that housed a stout and hardy people. Linking the structures together was a network of interconnecting bridges, which granted ease of access to the variety of businesses and homes populating the Village.
It was within the highest of the towers, beneath its conical-shaped roof, a group of nine individuals gathered together around a stone table.
On the tables longer sides, eight of the nine sat, separated into two groups of four. Nearest to the head of the table were the grey-haired elders dressed in elegant robes. Following from them were individuals of prominence attired in red outfits, flak jackets, and bearing the insignia of their Hidden Village upon their headbands.
Finally, at the head of the table was a diminutive old man with a bulbous red nose, standing little more than four feet even when his shoulders were not hunched by the many long years he had lived.
Yet none stood taller than he. None stood prouder. At this table, in this Village, and in this world, he was a giant none could ignore.
Though his hair had gone white, and the top of his head bald, he still yet possessed the passion, the strength, and depths of wisdom, obviously, to lead his people. As he was now, having heard all the final statements of his faithful council.
According to new Intel, sourced by a criminal organization they were closely tied with, strange foreigners had invaded the Lands of Wind and Fire, wreaking havoc and destroying many small towns, farms, and coastal villages.
It was clear now more than ever the Leaf and Sand were weaker than their initial reports suggested.
"The time has come," Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage of the Hidden Stone Village declared.
The simple words held a passionate resolve the Will of Stone was known for. Steadfast and unbending as the mountains which protected their Village.
It was far past time. He sat upon his fence as he determined the risks and the rewards, waiting to see which way the winds would blow. Now he knew. Now the time had come.
No longer would they wait. No longer would their Village suffer the shame of weakness inflicted by shinobi like Madara Uchiha, who had bent their Will of Stone all on his own.
They would no longer suffer the shame of defeat inflicted by men like the Yellow Flash of the Leaf, renowned for slaying a thousand of his shinobi in a single battle. They would no longer cower in the colossal shadows of the Reincarnation of Madara Uchiha and the Mistress of Shadows, they would not shudder at the name of Wicked Eye Fugaku, or tremble beneath the might of the Legendary Sannin.
They would not bend their heads to the Fourth Kazekage or seek shelter from the accursed strength of that renowned kunoichi of his, Pakura of Scorch Style.
No longer would they suffer the humiliation of surrendering to the Third Hokage's negotiations.
All those who had fragmented their pride, who had bent it to their whims, who had inflicted wounds that could not heal were all long dead now. The Uchiha Clan was destroyed. The new Hokage was a woman—an old one, too.
Tsunade of the Sannin's prime was far behind her now. The Fourth Kazekage was dead, and his Gold Dust taken with him.
The Leaf and Sand were weak. The Sand had no one left capable of stopping them—their jinchūriki would fall before he ever learned how to tame that power.
In the Leaf, shinobi like Jiraiya of the Sannin would suffer the same death as the Second Hokage and the Third Raikage. Thus their jinchūriki would meet the same fate as the Sand's.
"The time has come," he said again. "Send word to our allies in the Hidden Waterfall and Hidden Grass Villages.
"Tell them, the time has come to regain what was taken from us."
A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for the super long delay and forced hiatus. To keep it short, Hurricane Ian made landfall in my area and knocked out power for a few weeks, but when the power came back on we learned our wi-fi providers infrastructure was damaged so badly that people would be without internet near and around my area until January and February. I've only just gotten internet again this week, so now I'm back. Made it through in one piece, which I am grateful for, and intend to make plans so its the last hurricane I ever experience.
Anyway, sorry for the delay and thank you for reading! As you can see we'll be jumping into a new original arc, which I hope the twists and turns of will be as fun for all of you to read as they have been for me to write.
Review Response to Isobel Bauch: Yep, Pakura has survived and will potentially rise to become the next Kazekage. But, as she said, nothing is ever certain. So we'll have to wait and see how things go.
Anyway, thank you for the review!
Review Response to Guest: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter! I watched the video at the time, wholly expecting to be able to reply on my thoughts about it, but hurricane Ian totally screwed that up.
In general I think the points made were interesting, however I feel like a lot of context to Itachi's circumstances is left out in their critique. I'm not arguing that he didn't make mistakes or that he is somehow perfect, or that there aren't flaws in what we are told about him, but I do remember feeling that there was context to his situation the video didn't take into account.
Anyway, thank you for the reviews!