Chapter 175
Long Live the King: A Father's Dying Wish, the Reasons We Fight
Even from the sea it was clear where the Land of the Moon's population was centered. You need only look at the red clay roof tiles and the colorful flashing eyesores populating the horizon to locate the populace. For the vast, untamed wilderness surrounded the manmade Kingdom of stone, and its horizon remained absent of red tiled roofs, flashing advertisements, and signs of human life.
So far there was no reason to expand. The population wasn't ballooning, and there was plenty for everyone to do within the Kingdom's defined walls, whether you were a local or a tourist.
Casinos and gambling halls provided a variety of games for every level of wealth. A brand new movie theater had opened, hosting the newest films and plenty of overpriced snacks for the experience. Their ornate amphitheater was consistently sold out, drawing in audiences for moving theatrical plays and concerts by some of the shinobi world's finest performers and musicians.
There were beaches open to the public, fishing, hot springs, bathhouses, stores selling all manner of jewelry, books, manga, souvenirs, clothes—anything and everything any shopper could ever desire, it was sold in the Land of the Moon. There seemed to be as many restaurants as there were stars in the night sky.
Bowling, an arena for main event boxing matches and sumo wrestling; there was no shortage to the forms of entertainment.
Taverns, cabaret clubs, bars hosting billiards and dart clubs, and a variety of nightlife entertainment for adults could be found if not on every street, then at least within walking distance.
Everyone, whether a local or a tourist, resided within the resort town. There were no sages in the mountains, no hermits living in isolated shacks amid the swaths of untouched forests, and no luxury homes or exclusive resorts built upon the beach anywhere outside of the town.
The palace was the only outlier. Resting well beyond the town border, at the end of a long winding path paved through the untouched forests, its towers of white rose over the trees like glimmering pearl spikes. Once the home of their beloved King, the palace, like the man, watched over them how a grandfather might watch their newborn grandchild.
Now it was the home of something else. No longer an angel guarding over them, but an all-seeing eye of malice monitoring their every move, their every thought, their hearts truest feelings. It was a symbol of suspicion. Paranoia. And no longer the pride of the Nation.
Surrounding the palace and its pearl towers, like the town, was the wilderness. Untouched, unblemished by further construction. The fertile lands were, by royal decree, protected from wanton destruction and expansion.
Pure forests stretched the entire crescent-shaped island, broken only by a magnificent mountainous region, its angular stones jutting into the sky like ashen plates protruding from the spine of a Stegosaurus, its peaks sheathed in white as pure as the fur of an arctic fox.
At the foot of the mountain two carriages trundled between the trees, the horses steadily slowing out of a canter as they approached the mouth of a cave.
The lead carriage was a mammoth of armor on wheels. Built to carry a small squadron of royal guards, the heavy plating, like their armored war horses, was the color of pitch, and provided unparalleled shielding from arrows behind its fortress walls.
The second carriage, bearing golden trim, was the mirror contrast to the armored vehicle, colored pristine white and pulled along by the noble white steads of the Prince. Once untarnished and inexperienced to the ways of war, the windows were now broken, its outer shell scarred by the onslaught of arrows, and a wheel sounded ready to declare its independence and run off on its own.
As the carriages finally halted, Amari exhaled deeply through her nose. It wasn't a sigh of relief. She didn't feel relief in the slightest, nor did she feel safe enough to deactivate her Byakugan despite how well-hidden their new hidey-hole was.
Another Kingdom, another damn mess, she thought sullenly.
From her position on the roof of the carriage, she glanced to the driver seat of the Prince's carriage, where the Captain of the royal guard now sat. An ally in this dilemma. But he wasn't the original driver.
No, the driver to helm the Prince's royal carriage for this whole journey, and who knows how many years prior, was gone now.
Amari brought the back of her hand to her left cheek, wiping away the dribble of blood. A sharp sting awoke, but it didn't hurt. Not truly. Not like the painful absence of the innocent carriage driver. Not like the heartache of seeing innocent people hung and displayed as gruesome decorations to corral the populace beneath the mighty, indiscriminate hand of tyranny.
And once again innocent people are the ones paying the price for it…
There'd never been a chance to save those who were hung, but the driver…
Captain Korega, a serious man with fuzzy black hair and thick eyebrows, disembarked quickly. Like the handful of royal guards he arrived with, the right sleeve of his grey uniform was adorned with a blue flag and their coat of arms—a white crescent moon. His black flak jacket was unique, however, when compared to the others; it bore a red phoenix crest sewn over his left breast. A sign of his rank, perhaps.
Amari eyed the empty driver seat for a moment as Captain Korega and his compatriots guided Prince Michiru and Hikaru from the carriage towards the mouth of the cave. She eyed the splattering of blood staining the pristine white carriage, no longer untarnished or inexperienced to the ways of war.
The driver had been right there moments ago, right in reach. She fought to defend him and the carriage from the arrows flying in on all sides. She'd turned, deflected an explosive arrow with a thrown kunai, and then she saw that arrow in her Byakugan. She'd seen it clear as day, with yellow fletchings, on a path straight for the driver. She whipped around, stepped towards the man, a shout to duck rising up her throat as she equipped another kunai, and then…
The kunoichi exhaled another deep breath through her nose. She turned away from the empty seat and the blood, and dropped off the side of the carriage, landing softly upon the grass.
You can't change what's already happened, she thought. Focus on the next step. Focus on saving the next life. That's all you can do.
You can't save everyone.
She was hating that reality more and more.
Regrouping with Kakashi and Haku, they joined Korega at the mouth of the cave, just as Prince Michiru stumbled frantically into the cave.
"Papa!" he cried out.
"Grandpa!"
Hikaru ran beside his father towards the end of the cave, where the orange ember of a lantern illuminated an opened first aid kit and an old, bearded man lying supine on a bedroll. A blanket was drawn up to his neck. His white hair had receded quite some distance from his forehead, but it draped past his shoulders even while lying down.
It was the King. Worst of all, Amari could sense his waning life-force and chakra.
He was dying.
"Papa! Papa!"
"Grandpa!"
"No! What's happened?!" Prince Michiru cried, coming to kneel and then brace himself on all-fours beside his father.
Amari flattened her lips together. She gripped her left bicep, dug her fingers into it. Their trembling voices, their confusion and agony, it broke her heart.
Haku's gentle hand rested on her shoulder, rubbed it, then gave her a supportive squeeze. She was grateful, even if it didn't alleviate the pain.
"Captain Korega, right?" Kakashi spoke up softly but with a serious tenor. "Can you fill us in on what's going on?"
"Yes. That would be best," Korega replied. His solemn voice detailed the emotional fatigue he hid so well.
He gestured them to follow with a small motion of his chin, then proceeded to enter the cave.
"There have been clashes of late between the King and some of his ministers, led by Shabadaba. For many years now he alone has wielded the most influence among the ministers, and as a personal friend of the King he was afforded an even greater sway over his colleagues. You see, these two factions have different ideas of where they want to lead this Land.
"The King hoped to reason with the dissenting voices. He hoped to one day bring them around to his point of view. But, meanwhile, Shabadaba took matters into his own hands. He plotted to overthrow the King."
They halted within five strides of the King. Korega's expression, illuminated by the lantern, matched the solemn tone of his voice. It was clear he hadn't slept or rested well in days.
"By chance we discovered his plot in time and informed His Majesty. He realized the time had come to confront his ministers. He knew this could be dangerous, so he sent Prince Michiru and his son on a royal tour of many Lands in order to protect them."
Michiru gasped. "That's why…you sent us away? To protect us?" his voice broke as he spoke.
"Once you were safely out of the way, the King moved to settle the matter, but it was too late. Shabadaba had already hired shinobi mercenaries to secure his position. We were outmaneuvered and outmanned. By the skin of our teeth we escaped. Barely."
Korega clenched his fists. His brow furrowed. He squeezed his exhausted eyes shut as his neck tensed.
"But the King, to my shame, did not…"
The Prince stifled something close to a sob. Hikaru gasped, expression pale and forlorn.
"…Grandpa…"
"Hinata and Natsumi are here," Amari informed softly.
Clap!
Hinata's sandals striking the stone reverberated through the cave, caused the royal guard, the Prince, and Hikaru to start. The royal guard spun, hands grasping their sabers.
Half-turning, Amari saw Hinata running ahead with her Byakugan activated; the expression on her face made it clear she could see the direness of the King's condition. Natsumi approached with long, purpose filled strides.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Kakashi-sensei," Hinata apologized hastily. "I'll tend to the King right away. Excuse me," she apologized to the royal guard as she slipped by.
"I should be the one apologizing," Natsumi said as she neared. "I was the one that decided to check out the palace."
"What were you able to learn?" Haku asked.
"They have shinobi under their employment, and they have hostages that they're killing for entertainment. Any other details have to wait."
She raised her chin towards Hinata, crossed her arms. "Hinata was the one who saw everything. Wanted to keep our distance once I sensed their shinobi."
"Good call," Kakashi said.
Prince Michiru's gasp and Hikaru's whimper drew their eyes back to the King. Hikaru was looking away. The Prince's eyes were wide and his mouth agape.
By peeling the blanket back Hinata revealed the damage to everyone. But she, like Amari and the royal guards, was not surprised at what lay beneath; she had already seen it.
Natsumi narrowed her eyes. "His skin has been turned to stone?"
Amari pursed her lips in discomfort. His skin, his clothes, and all the organs and tissues which rested beneath the right upper half of his body had suffered the same fate: Petrification.
"I've seen something like this before," she spoke up, "but it was the result of a kekkei genkai—Lava Style, to be precise."
And by sheer willpower Kimimaro had fought on despite his scorched and petrified flesh.
Natsumi hummed. "I've seen it, too. But this wasn't caused by a Lava Style kekkei genkai. The way its spread out… It's too perfect. I also don't see any signs of burns elsewhere on the King, which he wouldn't have escaped if that much lava hit him."
"Captain Korega," Amari turned to the Captain, "do you know how this happened?"
"Yes. One of these shinobi has possession of a special gauntlet, worn on his right hand. I believe it is responsible for the petrification."
"How so?"
"He was only capable of petrifying my comrades when he touched them with that hand. And due to my negligence, he was able to…"
His face scrunched in pain and guilt he was doing his damndest to bury.
"…to use it upon the King!"
"A gauntlet, huh?" Natsumi brought her hand to her chin. "We're dealing with a highly advanced ninja tool of some kind. It's safe to assume the petrification is the result of chemicals then, not the result of a kekkei genkai. How much this guy petrifies is then dependent on how long he can touch us. Though that doesn't explain what I felt back there…" she trailed off.
"Hinata," Kakashi spoke up. She looked up, met his gaze. "What do you think?"
He wasn't asking about Natsumi's conclusion, Amari knew. He was asking about the King's chances of surviving.
"I believe there may be a chance to reverse the petrification with Medical Ninjutsu. It will take some time, however."
Kakashi nodded. "All right. We'll give you space to work. The rest of us will set up a perimeter, just in case."
"Okay."
Hinata formed three special handseals, then rested her right palm on top of the back of her left hand. Beneath her hands a humming crystalline blue, almost white, orb formed. She immediately applied it to the King's petrified body.
There was nothing left for them to do except set up a perimeter. There was nothing they could do but wait and see if Medical Ninjutsu would be enough to save the King's life.
So they did.
"Unacceptable!" screeched Shabadaba, stomping a noisy rut into the velvet carpet. "We let both of them get away!" He stopped pacing suddenly, clenched his fists, and began to stomp the floor with his right foot. "Blast! Blast! Blast!"
Ishidate watched the short, portly man's tantrum through the reflection of the tall glass window which he stood before, arms crossed, and a slight smirk on his lips. It was quite the entertaining show.
Shabadaba's assistant, a pale, round-faced man who reminded the shinobi of a creepy doll or a mime, wrung his hands and recoiled with every furious stomp. The gold collar-like necklace jingled with Shabadaba's erratic movements. If he kept at it, Ishidate wanted to remark, he'd get his regal purple robes all wrinkled. And appearances were quite important in the palace.
He kept his counsel to himself. Enraging his employer while he underwent a childish tantrum wouldn't be wise. And, although he loathed admitting it, he was indebted to the minister.
"It was perfect!" screeched Shabadaba. "We had them right in the palm of our hands! Michiru and his little brat should be dead! Dead! Deadddddd!" he wailed in rage.
"They had good bodyguards," Ishidate inferred, deep voice measured.
"What?!" hissed Shabadaba. He was clearly in no mood for a measured discussion.
Thrusting his fists down, each finger decorated and adorned with the finest of gold rings and jewels only a minister of his untamed wealth could buy, Ishidate watched the fury build on the minister's face, pouring forth like an unattended boiling froth. He watched with a neutral expression. Passive and, dare he say, subservient to the minister. Outwardly, anyway.
Inwardly he derived pleasure from watching the shrewd and sneering man lose all composure. All because of a little bump in the road. A minor hiccup in an otherwise flawlessly executed plan.
Truly, only someone of such overwhelming privilege could fall apart because of something like this while decorated in absurd amounts of wealth, while fattened by only the finest dining, while standing upon velvet carpets inside a castle he held no birthright to, as the wealth of the Kingdom and its people sat in the palm of his hand.
Indeed, only the overwhelming privileged could throw tantrums over something so insignificant. So trivial. But that's why he was here, after all. It was why Shabadaba hired him and his comrades. They were here to smooth it all out for the minister, ensuring his rise to King went utterly unchallenged. So far, they had. Flawlessly. This recent incident was a mere hiccup.
So Ishidate was not surprised to see the fury flushing Shabadaba's face. Or to become the new source of his scorn.
"They had good bodyguards?" repeated Shabadaba incredulously. "Is that all you have to say?!"
"Calm down," he assuaged. "They may be strong, but we're stronger still." Ishidate smiled confidently, and with a hint of malice. "I have no doubt we can handle them. Have faith, Minister. The special equipment you've provided us will be all we need to eliminate the intruders. And the last of the dissidents, of course."
The fury subsided. In its place arrived an annoyed sneer.
"I should hope so," Shabadaba sighed with contempt. "It would be annoying to learn I paid you all that money for nothing, Ishidate."
Ishidate glanced back at the minister without turning his head, lips flattened together. Then he allowed a smirk to cross his lips as he hummed.
Your money will be well spent, Minister, he thought. Once all your enemies are eliminated, you will stand as King of this Land, and we will be your bodyguards. For a price, of course.
He looked back out the window, to the island Kingdom beyond.
And once I learn how to keep the wealth flowing through this Kingdom, your services will no longer be necessary, Shabadaba.
A little more than an hour had passed when Hinata finished applying Medical Ninjutsu to the King. Much of his pale and weathered skin now appeared as it would have. However, tiny fragments of petrification, like grey lesions, marked the surface of the King's chest, shoulder, and arm all the same.
Hinata rose silently, solemnly. The veins bulging along her temples and upper cheeks receded, the hardened lavender softened.
There's nothing left I can do. I'm sorry, she apologized to the unresponsive man.
She turned around and walked towards the mouth of the cave where Kakashi stood guard, hands in his pockets. Along the way she passed the members of the royal guard, standing or sitting as they waited. And hoped. The solemn expression adorning her face told men like Captain Korega all they needed.
She passed Hikaru, who sat with his knees tucked to his chest and arms hugged around his legs; a Shadow Clone of Amari sat beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders in silent comfort. The Prince took her departure as a chance to sit beside his father.
Hinata didn't say a word to any of them. She walked the mile that seemed to separate her and Kakashi in silence, heart aching in her chest, and frustration bubbling in her veins.
At his side now, Kakashi turned to face her. He knew, she felt, what she would have to tell him just by looking at her, just as the others all seemed to know.
"What's the situation?" he asked softly, gently. For her sake and to try to keep his voice from reverberating through the cave.
"I was…too late," Hinata began just as softly, eyes downcast.
Kakashi exhaled. "I understand."
"Petrification is reversible as long as it is treated immediately," she felt the need to explain herself. "I was able to reverse a great deal of the damage… However, too much time passed from the moment his body was damaged to our arrival." Hinata lowered her head. "There's nothing more I can do."
"Does he have long?" Kakashi asked.
Silently, Hinata shook her head.
That he had survived as long as he had, given his age and the organs that were damaged, was a miracle. But now…
No, the King did not have long left. It would be soon.
There was nothing left they could do.
Glancing down the cave, Hinata's eyes fell onto the Prince and Hikaru, and a lump built in her throat.
I'm sorry…
His eyes creaked open slowly. Little had changed of his surroundings since last time, except for one important detail—the reason he had fought to stay alive all this time, even as his aging body deteriorated rapidly, was now sitting beside him.
"You're home, Michiru," Kakeru Tsuki, King of the Land of the Moon, whispered joyfully.
His son gasped. His eyes went wide. He recoiled back as though a corpse had come alive after being pronounced dead.
Kakeru understood. It wouldn't be long now before his time would end. He could see it approach, like the final peaceful moments of a Princess Gale movie before the title card appeared and the credits rolled.
"Papa!" Michiru exclaimed, leaning forward and over him.
But not yet, he sighed. His wife would have to wait…just a bit longer, for there was something left for him to do here.
"Grandpa!" Hikaru appeared within his view suddenly, his boyish face expressing his happiness for his awakening, and a deeper, unspoken fear.
"Majesty," Korega exhaled in fleeting relief.
His most loyal protector knew, Kakeru realized. Unlike his son, who was worried but clinging to the hope nothing ill would come of this injury. In that regard Kakeru felt regret. He had failed to prepare his son properly, he had sheltered him for far too long from the world, and now the world and its ugliness would be the first thing he would face without him…
Kakeru lowered his eyes from his son to his grandson and permitted himself to feel a hint of joy.
"Hikaru, too." He smiled. "Wonderful."
They were both here. Safe. That brought him solace. However, such a deed could not have been achieved alone. When Kakeru asked how they arrived, his son spared no time in explaining how he came to hire a squad of Leaf and Mist shinobi, speaking animatedly and happily as though nothing at all was wrong.
It pleased Kakeru to see his son so lively. It pleased him to hear his voice and see his proud smile.
At his weak beckoning, he asked to meet the individuals assigned to protecting his son. The five shinobi to emerge were unexpected; those of the Leaf Village, all save the man of the trio, were but children, and those of the Mist were only slightly older children.
However, from what his son described of them and their deeds, and what he could see in their eyes…
Yes, these shinobi, they were strong and honorable people. Even through their grave expressions he could see it. Their presence warmed his old heart.
"I see," he said slowly, for there was no other speed at which he could speak now. "So it was you who protected them. My friends, I thank you all."
They each bowed their heads slightly but said nothing. They would not force him to speak more than necessary. They would not waste what time he had left with those he cherished most.
"Tell me, how fares the Land of the Moon?"
"Not well, Your Majesty," Korega replied solemnly. "At this point, the whole island is under the rebels control."
"I see," he sighed. Then he looked to his son. "Michiru, what comes to your mind when you think of this Land of ours?"
"Oh, it's a wonderful place!" Michiru said with a blissful smile. "Beautiful and prosperous and wealthy."
"That's right. But I see now that happiness and wealth are not necessarily the same thing."
"Huh?" Michiru leaned closer, his confusion only matched by a sense of familiarity with those words.
Kakeru turned his head to its natural resting position. Staring at the stone ceiling, colored in the orange hue of the lantern, he smiled wistfully.
"Joy, happiness, our hopes and our dreams, a place of peace and harmony—that is the sort of Land I envisioned. I thought Shabadaba shared my dream, but I could never get him to see it. Such a pity."
"I'm not sure I understand either, Papa." His son lowered his eyes and flattened his lips together. "You talk just like Amayo."
"Amayo?" The name gave him hope and an extra burst of life. "Are the two of you…"
Michiru shook his head. The hope flickered out with the silent gestured.
"Mm. What a shame."
"She told me I don't have any clue of what matters."
"Amayo always was a very sensible girl. I had hoped she would be a good influence, that with a little time her common sense… I never dreamed she would be the one to give up. Such a pity." Kakeru shut his tired eyes, ducked his chin down. "Yes. That's right. What really matters…"
The sensation to strike the King at that moment caused his eyes to slowly widen. His time on this earth, it was clear to him, was at its end.
"Michiru…"
"Yes?"
"One request—my last wish."
He heard his son and grandson gasp, though it sounded far more distant now. He saw them both lean over him, saw their mouths moving as they pleaded and cried for him to stay.
Kakeru continued to speak, voice weak and airy—he was nearly out of time.
"It is very important what I have to say, my son. This isn't the way I imagined it happening; I know it will be hard, but you must face it. Starting now, you are the King."
Tears poured off his son's and grandson's face. Michiru let out a pained wail. Korega and his fellow guards struggled to fight back their tears. The Leaf Village's girls bowed their heads in sorrow, the Mist shinobis and the Leaf man watched him in quiet solemnity.
"You, Leaf and Mist Village shinobis," Kakeru addressed them, short on breath. The man and the crimson-haired members of the group approached. The man knelt onto one knee beside Michiru, the girl stood behind him.
"Sir," said the man.
"I know I have no right to ask this of you, but as you are honorable people, I make this last request."
"Of course."
"Look after them. Protect them, please."
The man nodded.
"With our lives, Your Majesty," said the man.
The girl nodded in silent agreement.
Kakeru smiled. "I thank you."
His eyes began to shut. He felt no despair, however. No fear. Like many of his days looking upon the Land of the Moon, he felt a warm peace draw over him. It was immediately followed by an overwhelming love, and a light which enveloped him and gently, as though he were a newborn child of the light, lifted him from the earth and cradled him in its loving arms.
"Michiru…I depend on you. I…"
The King's eyes shut for the final time. He did not hear his son's anguished howl or the sobs of his grandson.
In the cave lit by the flame of a lantern, upon the island shaped like a crescent moon, he exhaled his last, peaceful breath with one final feeling in his heart.
I love you, my son.
The King was dead.
In the stifling gloom that consumed the cave, amid the wails of Hikaru and agonizing sobs of Michiru, now King of the Land of the Moon, the royal guard, with tears glistening in their eyes or streaming down their cheeks, draped Kakeru Tsuki's body beneath a large blue blanket decorated in the regalia of the Kingdom he had led, the Kingdom he had loved, and the Kingdom he had fought to protect. To his final breath.
Within the lantern lit gloom of the cave, the members of the royal guard, the new King, and his son all grieved their beloved King, father, and grandfather. Even Captain Korega, strongest of them all, shed his tears, though he did so in privacy, without a sound, and with his back turned to his comrades and the King so they would not see him waver.
Amari had seen it, though. And had the others seen it, her comrades and his, she knew in her heart of hearts no one would have blamed him. Grief, sorrow, and the tears that accompanied loss were natural. Perfectly normal. There should have been no shame in crying for such a loss, for a man they had all cherished.
But that would have been a perfect world. A world where men did not have to hide or bury their pain as though they were heartless machines, where soldiers did not have to bury their suffering far out of sight, a world where tears were not seen as a sign of weakness.
They were far from a perfect world.
The shinobi settled outside of the cave. They needed to discuss their next move, starting with the situation at the palace.
"From what the King said," Hinata was speaking as she kneeled in the grass, "I believe the man I saw is likely Shabadaba. He was the one sitting on the throne…as his guards forced a bound man to jump from his makeshift gallows." Her eyes lowered. "He…was laughing as he watched. That man is…"
"He's a disgusting wretch," Natsumi stated it plainly, standing adjacent to Kakashi. "Among all the scum there, and there was plenty of it, his presence is the most repulsive."
"I see."
Kakashi said nothing else for a moment, stuffing his hands into his flak jacket pockets as he digested the information.
"It seems Shabadaba is entertaining himself by killing his hostages," he began. "If I were to guess, the hostages are likely comprised of those who tried to side with the King; these will be non-ministers, people in lower positions of power by comparison, but still important to the Nation nonetheless.
"Shabadaba will already have replacements taking control of their positions. Unless he intends to run the entire Kingdom on his own," he added, but it was clear he didn't believe in the scenario.
"A pampered minister turned tyrant King running the day to day operations? Think the sky will rain silver and gold before that ever happens," Natsumi didn't believe it either.
"Agreed," Kakashi nodded.
"A guy like Shabadaba will want to be waited on," Amari added her opinion, sitting beside Hinata. "He doesn't actually care about the Kingdom or its people. He just wants to rule with an iron fist. He just wants all the money and resources to himself. He'll want some lackey to keep the money flowing, another to pour him wine, and another to rub his feet as he crushes his opposition beneath his thumb."
"True," Haku spoke up, standing opposite of Natsumi. "Thus we can also assume some of these hostages may be the other ministers who turned against the King. A man such as Shabadaba will not seek to share his power. Or the wealth it grants him."
"Yeah. Normally I'd say leave those bastards to rot. I'd say they've earned their 'reward' for being greedy scumbags." Natsumi pursed her lips and frowned. "Unfortunately, we don't know who among the hostages are ministers and who are loyal to the King's ideals.
"Leaving the former to die wouldn't bother me. Leaving the latter?" She shook her head. "We'd be bastards like Shabadaba to abandon them just to punish those ministers."
Amari hummed. Yeah, they would be. Were those people not there, though, she would've considered Natsumi's idea of leaving them to rot. They would have reaped what they sowed.
It's not like you weren't already wealthy, she thought. It's not like you weren't in positions of power. You had everything and anything you wanted. You had the security orphans, homeless, and hard workers who struggle day in and day out to keep food in their stomachs dream about.
But it wasn't enough. It's never enough for greedy bastards like you. You tear apart families, you hurt innocent people, you live off the blood, sweat, and tears of people scraping by, but that's not enough for you. It's not enough until you have it all. Until you sit upon the throne yourselves.
And even then its not enough, is it?
Yeah. Were there no potential for innocents paying the price, she would've considered leaving them to rot. It wouldn't have been the first time…
In the stairwell choked by smoke, surrounded by fire, she stared into the frightened, pleading eyes of the man who had set this apartment on fire. She was soaked in sweat, her skin stung and burned at the points he'd managed to touch.
Glancing in her Byakugan to the top of the flight of stairs, she saw a girl she didn't know—a girl he would have killed, who he may have mortally injured already, before she arrived. She was still lying on the floor where she'd fallen, throat burned by his Quirk.
The burning apartment was on the verge of collapse. It groaned around them like a wounded beast. Small pieces of concrete were beginning to rain around them.
She looked at him again. His eyes were wide, they were pleading for something she could no longer give.
He was afraid to die.
She could only choose one life. Did she end his personally in the name of vengeance or justice, allowing herself to be drawn into a personal battle once again while innocent lives were on the line? Or did she save the girl?
One life. She could only choose one. The Villain or the civilian.
She half-turned away from the man, but spared one last ice-cold glare.
"Burn in the hell you've created, scumbag," she spat.
With one leap, she was at the top of the flight of stairs and beside the girl.
"No! No! Get back here! Come back!"
She didn't look back.
Amari shut her eyes and exhaled softly. She brought her hand to her cheek; it no longer stung, Hinata had healed the wound as soon as they gathered outside of the cave.
You can't allow everything to become a personal battle, she thought. Yes, I am personally involved with the Prince and Hikaru. I feel guilty for the driver who was slain. My heart is aching for the pain they are all suffering through. I'm angry. I'm hurting for them, because I know that loss all too well.
However, these feelings are natural. I accept these feelings, but I will not be consumed by them.
Whether those ministers live or die doesn't matter. One way or another they'll pay for their crimes. What's important is saving those we can still save.
What's important is ending this tyrants reign as soon as we can so this Nation can once more walk towards the hopes and dreams of King Kakeru.
Calming the storm in her heart, Amari turned to look at Hinata.
"Hinata, what do their forces look like? I'm assuming a majority are non-shinobi, like the men who ambushed us."
Hinata dipped her head once. "Yes. They are mainly comprised of the royal guards who joined Shabadaba. Truthfully, in sheer numbers, Captain Korega and his men do not possess the forces to assault the palace. It would be a bloodbath."
"Can't retreat, either, to find allies in the surrounding islands," Natsumi added. "The port will be under strict guard by now. We have to assume any and all escape routes off the island are compromised."
"Knowing that actually works in our favor," Amari said.
Hinata and Natsumi both looked at her like goat horns had suddenly grown from her skull. Kakashi eyed her quietly. Haku brought his hand to his chin in thought.
"How does it work in our favor?" Hinata asked.
"The shinobi responsible for killing the King knew it would only be a matter of time before he succumbed to his injuries. They know that Captain Korega and his loyalists are now in possession of the Prince and his son—the rightful heirs to the throne. It's obvious Captain Korega and his men are outmanned, we've deduced that ourselves, so its safe to say the shinobi in their superior and confident positions have as well.
"So, what would you do in Captain Korega's position? What would be the most obvious path for him to take?"
"A retreat," Kakashi answered, following her thought pattern. "Looking at it from our enemies point of view, Captain Korega and his men would see a retreat as the only option. That way they can ensure the rightful heirs survive, as well as gather allies to retake their Land, since a frontal assault would be suicide."
"Yes," Haku agreed, eyes dancing with thoughts. "Even if they assume we know our escape routes are compromised, what other choice do we have? We are outnumbered and unaware of our enemies potential strength. To their eyes, we must retreat at all costs."
He lowered his hand from his chin and looked at Amari. "Which is why we must strike them from within."
Amari nodded once. "Right." She looked to Kakashi. "It'll be just like Kazahana Castle. Except this time Queen Koyuki won't be leading us into a trap."
"You're thinking of a rescue operation, then," Kakashi said.
"Yes. I'd like it if we could end this all in one move—I think with all of us here we may be able to save the people and eliminate the threat at the same time, but our main priority should be rescuing the people. That way if we aren't able to eliminate Shabadaba and his shinobi at the same time, we'll have rescued the hostages, taking away one of their advantages and adding to our own.
"Prince Michiru—or rather King Michiru will then have new allies and their gathered influence to rally the Land against Shabadaba. Furthermore, the soldiers will be spread out through the town, the port, and searching the wilderness for us while they suppress the people. We won't be up against a whole army like we were in Kazahana Castle."
"It's a bold plan," Natsumi said.
"As bold as taking back Mist Village?" Amari asked with a half-hearted smirk.
"Heh. Don't flatter yourself," Natsumi retorted good-naturedly.
"I think it is a good plan, but…" Hinata trailed off.
Amari looked to her comrade. "But?"
"The shinobi employed by Shabadaba, their chakra is…unnaturally powerful."
"Yeah," agreed the Mist kunoichi. "Something isn't right about their shinobi mercenaries."
Haku tilted his head. "How do you mean?"
"Is it a Curse Mark, perhaps?" Kakashi considered.
"No," Natsumi and Hinata refuted in unison.
"Their power does not resemble a Curse Mark like Orochimaru's," Hinata said. "I did not see a Curse Seal on them, either. In truth, I'm not sure what the cause is, but it seemed to come from their chest," she replied, lowering her head and pressing her thumbnail to her chin.
"It has to be some sort of ninja tool or advanced tech," Natsumi reasoned. Then shook her head, as if baffled. "It's like they have a limitless supply of chakra at their disposal. It makes my molars tingle."
"A limitless supply of…" Amari's eye went wide. Her stomach dropped. "Oh god…"
"Our armor not only creates a shield of chakra to deflect all of your pathetic little jutsus, it also enhances the chakra within our bodies." Kōri spread her arms out, grinning arrogantly. "Ninjutsu and genjutsu are useless against us! We are gods among mortals, and I will pluck you from my garden like the weed you are!"
An advanced tech…
"At first glance their armor appears flawless," she recalled her own voice. "It grants them an almost limitless supply of chakra while also strengthening their jutsus. In a way, it's the ultimate weapon for shinobi. With unlimited chakra and a machine that bolsters our jutsu strength, well, let's just say the Shinobi Wars would have been even bloodier."
"And if they started manufacturing their Chakra Armor in large quantities…"
An unlimited supply of chakra…
"Wait, you know Princess Koyuki?"
"Mmhm!" Prince Michiru nodded enthusiastically. ""The Kingdoms of the Land of Snow and the Land of the Moon have maintained a longstanding friendship for many, many years."
Two Kingdoms with a longstanding friendship…
"What is it, Amari?" Haku asked.
"I think it may be Chakra Armor," she said, feeling like she'd seen the spirit of Kōri pop out of the earth.
"Chakra Armor?" Natsumi furrowed her brow.
"It was manufactured and used by Dotō Kazahana and his Snow shinobi while they ruled the Land of Snow. Like you've both described, it enhances the chakra of those who wield it to a near limitless supply while strengthening the jutsus of those who wear it. It was also a device worn over their chests," Kakashi explained calmly.
"Bu- but would Queen Koyuki really manufacture this armor and sell it to a man like Shabadaba?" Hinata asked.
"No," Amari shook her head. "There's no way Queen Koyuki would waste resources on manufacturing more armor."
"I agree," Kakashi said. "It's more likely Shabadaba maintained a line of communication with Dotō behind the King's back. Maybe Dotō sold the armor to him. Or maybe he acquired the schematics himself. Who can say. However, when you think about it, two wealthy Kingdoms run by tyrants, each with soldiers strengthened by Chakra Armor—it would've made for a dangerous alliance."
"They would've had the power to destabilize the Five Great Nations," Amari realized.
"If he has the schematics, or more of this Chakra Armor to sell…" Natsumi clenched her hands into white-knuckle fists. "They may have sold it to the Stone or Cloud, and if they did that…"
The war would be a lot more bloody. Natsumi knew that just by sensing the shinobi wielding the Chakra Armor, without having seen it in action, as Amari and Kakashi had.
"We'll need you two to tell us everything you know about this Chakra Armor," the Mist kunoichi said. "Strengths, weaknesses—everything that can possibly prepare us for combat against them."
Amari and Kakashi agreed. There was a chance it wasn't Chakra Armor, there was also a chance it was a newer model of the equipment they experienced, with new strengths and weaknesses they had no knowledge of.
If it was Chakra Armor, though, and if it was the same model, preparing everyone properly would allow them to exploit the weaknesses just like last time. They may even crush the enemy before they could unleash its true potential if they struck hard and fast.
Amari could only hope.
"My grandfather was always kind to me. He made my bow for me, you know." Hikaru sniffled. His lips trembled as a faint, nostalgic smile tugged at his lips. "He would always watch me practice, and whenever I would hit a bullseye, he was even happier than I was!"
A scarred, gentle hand rubbed slow circles along his back. Hikaru was grateful for the comfort. He was grateful he wasn't alone.
Sniffing again, tears freely flowing down his cheeks, he squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could.
"I loved him so much!"
"He knew that. And I know he loved you just as much," Amaririsu comforted.
Hikaru heaved a heavy breath, nearly sobbing again. He swallowed it back. Shoved it down as deep as he could. He didn't want to cry anymore. He didn't want to feel…this. He didn't want to feel any of it, but he was, and there was no escape from it.
Amaririsu continued to rub his back. She was like the blanket emergency officials wrapped people in when they were cold, a loving parent's hug, a shelter in a storm. She couldn't cure the terminal disease he was now afflicted with. No one could. But she could alleviate its symptoms, provide comfort and warmth at a time when the pain was unbearable.
And it had been unbearable. So unbearable he ran out of the cave, away from the royal guards, the shinobi, and his father. If only to escape. If only to wake up from this terrible nightmare.
He didn't wake up. Because this wasn't just a nightmare. Because there was no escaping this terrible new reality. He couldn't go home. He couldn't run away into the town. He couldn't go back to the ship. If he tried, he realized in horror, he would end up just like that woman he'd seen.
So he stopped running. He stopped on an outcrop of stone overlooking the resort town, collapsed to his buttocks, and felt the numbness begin to take hold of him. He had hoped none of it would be real. That it would just be a dream, and when he awoke his grandfather would still be alive.
But he was awake. This was all real. And his grandfather was gone.
Amaririsu had followed him here. She had sat beside him, encouraged him to grieve, to let it all out. She told him that it was okay to cry. That he was allowed to do it, that there was no shame in crying for someone he cared about. It was all perfectly natural.
So he cried. He wept, sobbed and heaved, and wailed until he couldn't any longer. Only now could he find any words to express his love for his grandfather. His mind traveled to warm memories, now tinged with a sharp ache that would never go away.
Hikaru sniffled again. He swallowed roughly. Sniffled. And hugged his arms tighter around his knees.
"I see now that happiness and wealth are not necessarily the same thing."
Pursing his lips, the Prince lowered his eyes.
What did Grandpa mean by that?
There was only one person he could ask now.
"Back there…Grandpa said wealth and happiness aren't the same," Hikaru whispered. "You said something like that, too. But…I'm still not sure I understand."
"Mm." Amaririsu hummed. "Well, in this society of ours, money—wealth—provides a person with security and opportunities. It can buy us immediate gratification, whether through purchasing new items, like toys or books, or new experiences, like a vacation or even something as simple as going out to eat at a restaurant with family and friends.
"Those without money, or with limited wealth, do not have access to this security. They do not have the same opportunities. Orphans, the homeless, laborers, everyday people who work for businessmen and women that pay them just enough to survive, but not enough to live, or Nations with a faltering economy where everyone is impoverished, they struggle. They struggle to live. Often they are surrounded by constant stress, fear, hoping to stretch what little food or money they have until their next paycheck. Or hoping for the charity of a stranger just to eat a single meal.
"I've seen both sides. I was born into a prestigious lineage, never wanting for anything, and I have lived as a poor, emaciated orphan. I've seen impoverished Nations choked by corruption and greed, and I live at the heart of a wealthy, thriving Nation.
"Wealth is not the same as happiness, though. Money provides a foundation of stability and security, it provides opportunities to those who can afford it, there is no denying that. And there is no denying that foundation can provide the soil for a good, stable, happy life. But money on its own doesn't make anyone happy. It's isn't the source of happiness. It's just a means to trade for goods and services. More cynically, it's a means—a system—for those in the upper-crust of our society to keep the commoners 'in their place', and out of their ballrooms," she added offhandedly.
Amaririsu turned her head to look at him. "We've talked about this before. How you have had access to anything and everything you could want, and yet your heart still yearned for something more."
He felt himself nod unconsciously.
"You can have all the wealth in the world, but there are precious things—things the heart yearns desperately for—that money cannot buy. That make our lives truly wonderful," she said. "Like the love you felt for your grandfather, and he felt for you. It's irreplaceable. It's a precious gift, even now. Especially now."
Hikaru lowered his gaze to his knees. He…sort of understood what she meant. He didn't quite understand how money was a system, he didn't know a life without the security, stability, or opportunities she spoke of, but he could see…he was sort of starting to see the differences between being wealthy and being happy.
In a way he already knew that his family's wealth didn't make him happy, it just gave him…things to do. Things to buy. It filled time. Distracted him from the loneliness and personal misery. But the things he truly wanted, the things he truly loved, he never found a place to buy them.
"What…"
Hikaru hesitated. Uncertain of the new question he wanted to ask. Uncertain it was appropriate. But…Amaririsu was the only one he could ask, he felt. She was so open about, well, everything, willing to talk about or try to explain things he didn't understand.
With Amaririsu, he felt safe enough to ask anything. Anything at all. And he felt safe that she wouldn't ever shun him for a question, say it was stupid, or that it was pointless to ask.
Amaririsu had so much more worldly experience than he did. She had lived through and seen so much. And he wanted to learn more.
"What was it like?" he asked suddenly, but quietly.
"What was what like?"
He pressed his lips together, squirmed a little.
"Being…an orphan," he finally answered after an elongated pause. "I…I've always had everything, so…I don't know what its like to have nothing at all. Did you…ever feel happy? Is it even possible to without the security and opportunities wealth provides?"
"Hmm." Amaririsu looked up at the sky. "When I was an orphan, we didn't have much of anything. Our caretaker did his best, I think, but… There wasn't a lot to eat, we didn't have beds to sleep on; we had these old cushions, but sleeping on them was like sleeping on the hard floor. The blankets were itchy and thin. In the winter we shivered, in the summer we sweat profusely.
"It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't fun. It wasn't an existence I would wish for anyone else to suffer. Yet I know there are many more children out there right now enduring similar conditions. Some who are enduring through circumstances that are worse than mine were."
A wistful smile tugged onto her lips. "But, you know, despite how terrible the conditions were, I still smiled, I still laughed—I was happy, strange as it might sound."
"You…were?"
"Mmhm."
"Why?"
"My heart was full."
Her hand drifted off his back. Although Hikaru didn't notice it, his tears had stopped falling.
He tilted his head. "Your heart was full?"
"Mmhm. I had two brothers I cherished, and who cherished me. Our bond, our connection, our love, our hopes, our dreams—my hands and stomach were empty, but my soul was full and satiated.
"Had nothing ever changed, had we lived the rest of our days as poor orphans… Yeah, even then, as long as they were with me, I would've been the happiest girl in the world."
"Where are your brothers now?"
"They were killed."
"O- oh…"
…Just like Grandpa.
"Yet, although they're gone, our bonds still connect us." Amaririsu looked at him. "Just as you and your grandfather are still connected by yours."
"You think so?"
"I do," she nodded once. "I know it may be difficult to feel now, but your grandfather's Will resides within you, Hikaru. And your father, too. It isn't just this Kingdom you've inherited from him. His love, his hopes, dreams, his very essence—these are precious gifts you've both inherited."
Hikaru brought his hand to his heart. He had inherited his grandfather's hopes and dreams?
The Prince looked out at the Kingdom. His expression softened, his vulnerability exposing itself.
"But if it really is something that precious…I'm not sure I'm ready to inherit something like that."
"In time you will be. You already have the strength within you."
"I do?"
"Mmhm. You've inherited your grandfather's Will, and he was a strong man. Whenever you feel weak, know that he'll always be with you, walking right beside you on your path.
"So when the time comes, don't be afraid to believe in yourself. Take a leap of faith and spread your wings." Amaririsu gently rubbed the top of his head. "And know even if you come crashing down, those you cherish will be there to help you stand again."
Hikaru sniffed. "…Promise?"
Amaririsu smiled. She extended her pinky out to him. "That's a promise."
With tears freshly streaming down his cheeks, he curled his tiny pinky around hers and smiled a quivering smile.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, Amaririsu."
Hinata's voice caused him to start. Amaririsu didn't seem surprised in the least. Turning his head and body and releasing her pinky, he saw the Leaf kunoichi standing a few strides away and, to his shock, she wasn't alone.
"Chamū? Kiki?"
The sabertooth was ahead of Hinata, with Kiki riding on his back. Hikaru all but leapt to his feet, he approached Chamū's side and began to pet him beneath his neck. The sabertooth purred. Kiki chirped and climbed onto his shoulder, causing him to giggle with a broken voice.
"How many times, Hinata?"
"Just one more, as always. I promise."
"Mmhm." The smile in Amaririsu's voice was as vibrant as the smile on Hinata's face. "Seems the circus has found us," she noted, rising to her feet as she did.
"Yes. Kakashi-sensei wanted me to retrieve you. We're about to go over our plan with Captain Korega and his unit."
"All right. Hikaru, are you ready to head back? I can leave a Shadow Clone here with you if you aren't."
"No, uh, no. I'll be…" He nuzzled into Chamū. "I'll be okay."
"Okay." She patted his head. "Let's head back then."
He wasn't okay. He didn't want to go back. He doubted he could bring himself to enter the cave again. Amaririsu knew all of that, he was certain. But he had to try to be a little stronger. Even if it was only baby steps.
Eventually he'd be able to spread his wings. Just like Amaririsu said.
The cave was silent. So silent he could hear his heartbeat intimately. He was hyperaware of every pulse of his aching heart, for he had nothing else to distract him. Nothing except the terrible absence, the hole of love, joy, and security his father had provided all his life.
Love, joy, and security now forever out of his reach.
In the lantern light, with his back to his father's covered body, Michiru sat with his forearms folded over his thighs. Numb. His cheeks were rosy and damp with tears.
He couldn't believe it. Even though he had cried over his father's lifeless body, even though he had seen and heard his father take his last breath, he couldn't believe he was dead.
Just this morning everything had been okay. He'd known—or rather, he believed his father was alive and healthy, the thought of him being anything else except alive and healthy didn't seem at all possible.
How could it be possible? His father had been apart of his life since the beginning. A cornerstone in the foundations of his being that couldn't actually be removed. Sure, he was aware that his father would eventually succumb to old age, he knew no one would live forever, and yet…
Michiru ducked his head. He clasped his hands together as though in prayer and squeezed his fingers until his knuckles were white.
Yet, foolishly, some part of him hoped that the inevitable would never come. He hoped his father would live forever. A day like this just didn't seem possible, a day where his father was no longer here, no longer King, it…it didn't seem real. Couldn't be.
It was. Numbly, he realized how real his father's absence was. He realized there would never be another day he'd see his smile, there would never be another warm greeting when he returned. He would never see his father light up while watching Hikaru practice his archery.
Michiru felt the blood drain from his face. Horrified, he realized his father would never see Hikaru grow up. His father wouldn't be able to attend Hikaru's next birthday party. They'd never watch another movie together. And he would never be able to ask him for advice.
There was still so much I had to say. So much I had to ask you, Papa. There was still so much you were meant to see.
An unsteady drip-drip-drip echoed in the cave. It was Michiru's tears.
Papa…I'm afraid. He bowed his head deeper, resting his forehead on his tightly clenched hands. I don't know how to protect Hikaru. I don't know how to bring Amayo back. I don't know how to be King. I- I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'd give it all to Shabadaba if it meant having you back.
"You really haven't changed at all," Amayo's scorning voice struck him. "Even now, you haven't got a clue, have you? About what really matters."
"Yes. That's right. What really matters…"
Michiru sniffled. His upper body trembled.
What really matters, he had heard those words from Amayo and his father. Yet neither specified what it was. If giving up the royal jewels or the Land for a chance to hold those he loved most wasn't the answer, what could it possibly be?
"Joy, happiness, our hopes and our dreams, a place of peace and harmony—that is the sort of Land I envisioned. I thought Shabadaba shared my dream, but I could never get him to see it. Such a pity."
I don't understand either, Papa, Michiru cried. I wish I did. What is it Shabadaba and I cannot see? What was your dream, Papa? Wasn't our land a place of peace and harmony already?
Hopes and dreams… What were yours, Papa?
What are mine?
He had never considered a dream to pursue. He had no vision for the Land of the Moon, he had always expected that, should the day he become King come to pass, he would follow in his father's footsteps. He hoped to be a beloved King just like him, wise and warm. But now as he considered it…
What path was his father walking? What were his policies? His principals? His goals? Michiru had never asked. He had never involved himself in the inner workings of the Kingdom, save a few times his father taught him a lesson about this or that, but he couldn't begin to guess now what his father sought to accomplish.
Michiru had no idea how he had become such a beloved King. Of course, he knew he was kind and generous, and an absolutely wonderful person, very driven to make sure everyone in the Land of Moon could live happily and safely. He couldn't imagine anyone hating his father, he couldn't imagine anyone would want to kill him, either. And yet…
Why did Shabadaba betray him, then? None of this makes sense.
What are Shabadaba's dreams? What are his hopes?
What are mine?
His hopes were simple, he supposed. He wanted his son to grow up healthy and happy; Michiru was oh so grateful to the shinobi for helping Hikaru leave the shell he'd hidden himself in since Amayo had left. Hikaru's smile and laughter were more precious than even the royal jewels.
He also hoped to one day bring Amayo back. He missed her dearly, he missed the happier days when her smile was the light of his life, when her laughter made his heart skip and her gaze made his hairs stand on end. And he knew Hikaru was suffering for his inability to bring her back.
But dreams…
Rubbing his right thumb along the top of his left, Michiru felt challenged by the absence of such a thing. He'd never looked that far ahead. Usually he acted on impulse—when he saw something, he just had to buy it then and there.
However, dreams weren't so frivolous, he realized in his somber, numbing gloom. No. Dreams were grand endeavors, things that couldn't be bought in a moment. They were like a north star, he supposed. They were a guiding beacon for a life's purpose.
A life's purpose wasn't something fickle or fleeting. The closest example he could think of was Queen Koyuki's dream, she had expressed it so vividly when they met earlier on his journey.
He could see her in his mind's eye, still attired in her Princess Gale costume after a long day of shooting, as beautiful as the sunset in the Land of the Moon. Her kind, violet-blue eyes drifted off as her mind fell into a memory, a result of him complimenting her determination and drive to build such a wonderful future for her people.
But although her eyes drifted, her warmth, her smile, the power in her voice did not falter. Hikaru, he recalled, watched her with a blush on his cheeks, hanging off every word. But, then, so was he.
"I wasn't always this determined or driven. Before I met those shinobi from the Leaf, I had given up on the future. The truth is I was afraid," said the Queen. Her violet-blue gaze fell upon them again. "I was afraid to put my hope in anything. I was afraid to dream. Being cynical was easy. Giving up was easier.
"But there were these bright children, two of the strongest shinobi I've ever met, who saw right through me. They had lost loved ones and were alone for so long—they had suffered just as I had. Yet they believed in the future. They were fighting with their hearts and souls for it—for their own futures, for the Land of Snow, for my people, and for me."
She placed a hand over her heart. "Together they gave me the strength to stand again. It was their resolve, their passion, and their words—sometimes harsh, but always sincere and truthful—that pushed me to…take a chance on believing in the future again. To believe that I, a coward and a fool, could become the Queen my most precious people had always believed me capable of becoming.
"When we give up, the dreams we dream and everything else that truly matters to us, they slip through our fingers. Forever. That's why we must protect our dreams. We must always believe in the future. As long as we believe, spring will come to this world of ours.
"So although winter has fallen upon these Lands with the Stone Village's declaration of war, it is my hope and dream to find a way to help usher in the coming spring. I seek to find a means to bring peace between these warring Nations and end this needless suffering. It is a dream I will fight for however I can, even if all I can do is raise my voice in unison with those children. I must. Those of us who have suffered must keep fighting for justice and peace so the future generations do not suffer as we have."
Michiru flattened his salty tasting and stinging lips together.
Queen Koyuki had such a clear vision. She was a tad younger than he was, still new to her role as Queen of the Land of Snow, and yet her dream was as clear as an afternoon sky. She sought an end to a war her Land had no true involvement in, all for a peaceful future so the children being born into the world would not suffer as she had. As so many had.
Suffering like that, he knew it was terrible. Michiru couldn't believe anyone would truly seek war or be satisfied with the needless deaths of soldiers. But until now, it had all seemed so far away. Like it was the problems of the continent, something he had no control of and wouldn't be involved in. And the suffering…he'd never known anything like what Queen Koyuki said until now.
Yet she wasn't alone in her dream. There was another who, unlike him, had a clear goal and dream.
"You see, it's Amari's dream to rebuild and reform her Clan. She seeks to reach her hand out to all those in need, to change the world itself, and she's willing to risk her life in order to achieve that dream," he recalled his conversation with Kakashi.
Yes, indeed, even Amaririsu had a grand dream, too. A truly inspiring one, like Queen Koyuki. She wanted to reach her hand out to people in need, to change the world itself, and not even a war could make her second-guess it.
"I truly believe we can create a world where people can live in peace, harmony, free of oppression and free of fear, where they can smile and laugh, and love without restraint with everyone, regardless of Nation of origin."
Michiru had always thought the Land of the Moon was like that. He had thought, foolishly, that even the world was similar to their wonderful Land.
"So I'll keep trying to reach out to anyone I can. I'll keep trying to inspire others to walk together, united by our shared humanity, instead of walking in pockets of isolation. I'll keep trying to break this cycle of war and change this world, if only so the children of the future don't have to suffer the same pains of those who came before us, and those who live now."
How wrong he was. How naïve. There were people suffering all across their continent, children like Amaririsu were being sent into wars, forced to dream of changing the world instead of living a happy childhood.
What were his dreams, then? What could he do?
Could he do anything at all?
"Your Majesty."
Michiru gasped. He raised his head quickly without wiping away his tears and, through bleary vision, he met Captain Korega's solemn and serious expression.
"Ye- yes?"
"The shinobi and I will soon depart to rescue Shabadaba's hostages, and, with luck, capture Shabadaba and eliminate his shinobi mercenaries," Captain Korega said.
"I- I see. Is there…" He swallowed roughly. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Our main priority is to keep you safe, Your Majesty. To that effect, I will leave the rest of my men to protect you and Prince Hikaru. However, because the circus has located our position, our hideout here could be compromised. It may no longer be safe to stay."
"Of course."
"Natsumi and Amaririsu are scouting another hideout now as we speak. Once they return, should it be clear, we'll—rather, my men will move you, the Prince, and King Kakeru there. I will lead the shinobi into the palace through the secret passages known only to the royal family and the King's personal guards."
Were these things he was supposed to be helping organize as King? Michiru clutched his clasped hands tighter. He didn't know. He wished he did, then, perhaps, he wouldn't be such a burden to the people protecting him.
"Thank you, Captain Korega. For everything you are doing, and for…serving Papa so faithfully."
"It was my honor to serve King Kakeru. And, when Shabadaba is captured, it will be my honor to serve you as well, King Michiru."
Captain Korega departed after a short bow.
Michiru rubbed his thumbs together, eyes stinging. That title wasn't supposed to be his, not so soon. Not like this.
But it was. And he hoped beyond hope he could figure out how to live up to it.
He hoped beyond hope he could figure out what it was he was fighting for.
The Land of the Moon was in a state of flux presently. An ideological civil war that, from Yuchi Muto's perspective, was sliding farther and farther into Shabadaba's favor.
With so many vocal supporters of King Kakeru losing their lives at the end of a rope, Yuchi kept his counsel to himself. Shabadaba and the ministers were greedy men, of course. He held no love for them. No matter his disagreements with Kakeru's policies, he never doubted the King held the best interests of their Land and its people at his heart.
However, he had no drive to be dragged into the streets by the guards under Shabadaba's regime, he had no reason to throw his life away, for what? To voice his love for the last King who no longer had the forces to regain control of his Land, if he was even alive.
The King was defeated. The winds were so clearly blowing in Shabadaba's favor that to speak now was foolish.
He would only be dragged from his home, publicly shamed by Shabadaba, his guards, and his most fervent supporters among the populace, before inevitably meeting his breathless end as he kicked his legs and swayed like a pendulum on the wind for Shabadaba's cruel entertainment.
Times like these were like running a business. You had to know when to stand out among the competition, and when to simply follow the trends of the current market.
Shabadaba was their golden goose now. And, frankly, Yuchi was willing to accept him as King for their shared policy belief:
Keep taxes low on the wealthy.
He didn't earn his wealth to give it away to those of lower status. If they wanted to be rich, they should start their own businesses and pull themselves out of the gutter. They had to make their own opportunities. Giving the lazy cretins a free ride off of successful businesses like his?
Yuchi sniffed.
Shabadaba may have been the devil, but he was a devil who understood the necessity for keeping the wealth of their Nation where it belonged. The King had grown too soft and too idealistic in his old age. And his son, Prince Michiru, was a blundering fool, a naïve child in a man's body with a spine of jelly. He was not fit to be King.
So, when Yuchi saw the circus enter the forest outside of his property, he alerted Shabadaba's guards immediately. Now, as he and the guards watched the circus return, he knew he had made the right choice.
The last of the rebels were somewhere out there.
Yuchi departed from the second-floor room first, sipping a cup of tea as the guards discussed their plans to follow their tracks straight to the King and his heirs.
He held no hate in his heart for King Kakeru, his son, or his grandson, truly. He was only following the winning trend, and earning favors from the winners was how one stayed ahead of the curve.
In the end, it was just good business.