“Kids, Kagome, I think you know why I’ve gathered you here today,” Inoue-sensei began.

“You want to do that failure analysis we’ve been putting off,” Hazō said. “But Inoue-sensei, shouldn’t we wait for Keiko to get back? I know she still hasn’t come back, but she’s our master analyst. It feels weird to do this without her.”

“It’s true. But the fact is, it shouldn’t matter to us whether she’s with us or not.”

She registered the uncomfortable stares from the rest of the group.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, “that came out wrong. What I meant is that we as a group need to learn to function without Keiko.”

The stares didn’t get any less uncomfortable.

“Agh, bad choice of words. What I’m trying to say is that we have to accept that we don’t need Keiko in the first place.

“…I’ll shut up now.”

After a few seconds of deathly silence, Hazō spoke up in his most even voice.

“Inoue-sensei, are you trying to say that while Keiko’s contribution to the analytical process is very valuable, we should practise doing the same without her because there may be times when she’s unavailable or unable to participate for whatever reason, and we should recognise that at those times we will still be able to conduct an analysis with some level of success?”

“Yes!” Inoue-sensei cried with the desperation of a woman lunging for a piece of driftwood in a stormy sea. “Thank you, Hazō; I couldn’t have put it better myself. Evidently.”

Hazō noticed belatedly that he was now the focus of attention instead. “So,” he said awkwardly, “I think the mission selection phase went well. We avoided getting involved in a potential clash with Wave forces which would definitely outnumber us on their home ground.”

“Yeah,” Noburi snorted, “and got our asses kicked by a bunch of jōnin and pissed off an entire village. Huge improvement.”

Kagome-sensei made a “hmm” of agreement, but didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Hazō said, slightly offended, “at least we didn’t sign up with the Hydra Foundation.”

Noburi considered this. “Point.”

“The journey there was a complete success, though,” Akane said. “We didn’t attract any attention and we even beat that giant fish.

“What was that, by the way?” she asked, turning to Inoue-sensei.

Unexpectedly, it was Kagome-sensei who replied.

“It’s called a megalodon. They’re mostly bred as guards and beasts of burden by Hidden Depths. We were lucky this one was feral.”

“Hidden Depths?”

Kagome-sensei gave Akane an impatient look. “The Village Hidden in the Depths. Masters of the Water Element. Holders of the Kraken Summoning Scroll. Former allies of Whirling Tides, before Depths stabbed them in the back and let the Elemental Nations finish the job. A-rank stinkers, even by hidden village standards.”

“I’ve never heard of them.“

Kagome-sensei’s expression turned condescending. “Of course not, with all the cover-ups. But didn’t you ever wonder why no expedition to look for other continents has ever come back? And that’s not to mention—”

“Anyway!” Inoue-sensei said sharply. “Sorry to interrupt, but let’s try to stay on topic. I think the info gathering phase was excellent. The division of labour worked really well. Special mention to Noburi and Akane for smooth teamwork, and to Kagome for great acting.”

Kagome-sensei grunted. “Didn’t really do anything.”

Inoue-sensei shook her head. “I was very impressed with how well you did, especially given your lack of training. Your ‘embarrassed pervert’ act in Kamino was particularly inspired.”

Kagome-sensei gazed down at the cave floor, carefully not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Akane came to his rescue. “Hazō-sensei’s diplomatic skills were amazing too. I’ve never heard anybody talk about how the Spirit of Youth applies to negotiation, but a perfect mutually beneficial exchange has to be as youthful as it gets. And to do it with a suspicious stranger who started out thinking you were trying to hurt her! I could never pull off something like that.”

Hazō disagreed. “You’ve got great... charisma, Akane. I’m sure you could manage it.”

He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Besides, I had to use a flowchart.”

Akane burst out laughing.

Inoue-sensei narrowed her eyes. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Mr Kurosawa?”

“It’s nothing, sensei.”

Inoue-sensei looked amused. “Ah, to be young again."

After a second, her expression went neutral again. “Actually, I take it back. My youth sucked. My advice to you kids is to grow up as fast as you can. Same demands, same mortality, but more power and freedom, plus all the sex and drink you can handle.

“Of course,” she finished morosely, “more regrets as well.”

Kagome-sensei gave what may have been an unconscious nod.

“Still, good job, Hazō,” he said quietly.

Hazō felt a flicker of pride. Kagome-sensei didn’t give out compliments casually.

“That Honami girl’s probably doomed, though,” Kagome-sensei went on. “She’s the only one around to take the fall for an assassination in a DMZ. Where I’m from, for a civilian that would be summary execution as soon as the interrogation was finished.”

Hazō’s pride turned into excruciating guilt. It must have shown on his face enough for even Kagome-sensei to notice.

“Well,” Kagome-sensei went on thoughtfully, “her parents are pretty important, so if they forgive the fact she betrayed them and get down on their knees and beg, she might get away with exile. Assuming Hot Springs doesn’t find out about her kid.”

“Where are you from, Kagome-sensei?” Hazō seized the rare opportunity for both revelation and urgent distraction.

“So. The important part,” Kagome-sensei said after a second’s tense silence. “First off, we were idiots for taking that mission without finding out more first. That’s the kind of stupidity that gets you killed even before the hunter-nin can get a shot at you.”

“In retrospect, hell yes,” Inoue-sensei agreed. “That one’s on me. We could have at least tried to get in touch with Jiraiya as well. His spy network might have known what was going on, and it wouldn’t have hurt to check we weren’t interfering with his interests either. Actually, we should probably check in with him soon anyway – we should be in his good books with the scroll, as valuable assets if nothing else. Maybe we can burn some of that goodwill to get him to help calm the hornets’ nest we stirred up in Hot Springs, or at least point us to a safe place to hole up until we’re in better shape and things quiet down.”

That made sense. Hazō felt a little relieved that they were finally starting to make positive, forward-thinking plans as opposed to simply sitting around dwelling on their failures and worrying about Keiko on various levels. Maybe once they got the failure analysis over with, they could start a proper discussion on where to go from here.

“I think we should have made more of an effort to find out what a demilitarised zone was,” he said, “and what its implications were for us. We didn't expect Jōtarō to be able to enlist the nearest ninja as instant backup, and Hot Springs's immediate and heavy response took us by surprise as well. I don’t think it would have been as bad if we'd done the same thing in some random tourist location in the Water Country.”

Inoue-sensei nodded. “Yes, that was embarrassing and nearly fatal. You could call that a big gap in our information gathering, and information is the most valuable thing when preparing for a mission. That’s the most basic lesson you learn as a ninja.”

Akane raised a hand. “Actually, Inoue-sensei, that’s kunai safety. But maybe they do things differently in Mist.”

This time, Inoue-sensei’s sigh was genuine.

“Speaking of information failure,” Inoue-sensei continued, “I screwed up with the spy. No point denying that. Having an external observer there should have been a red flag the size of the Mizukage's ego. What was so important about that mission that the client had to send a master spy to keep an eye on it? Because it sure wasn’t us. And given he was a master spy, I shouldn’t have taken him at his word no matter how convincing he sounded. I should have looked for some way to verify. He could’ve been working for anyone. And that ‘anyone’ probably knows a lot more about us now than I’d like.”

“But that wasn’t the worst part, was it?” Noburi spoke up for the first time in a while.

“No,” Hazō said. “We had so many options we didn’t consider. We could have tried to steal the objective while Jōtarō was in the bath. We could have waited for Jōtarō to leave on his next mission. We could have waited for Yami to take the civilians out of the resort and ambushed them out in the wild where there would be no one to call for help. We could have weighed the danger against the reward and decided to abandon the mission. Instead, it feels like we pounced on the first opportunity that occurred to us, and ended up facing a jōnin on his home ground. We even forgot he could call for backup.”

Inoue-sensei cringed slightly.

“Not your fault, Inoue-sensei,” Hazō hurriedly added. “I mean, it’s not like any of the rest of us brought up the possibility that he could send clones for help while he stalled us.”

“Anybody who forgets that there is a potentially hostile jōnin within the operations area deserves to die,” Inoue-sensei said flatly. “No point dancing around that.”

“There is no such thing as ‘deserves to die’!” Akane jumped up, her fists tight and her eyes flashing. “You can’t think like that, Inoue-sensei! There’s no absolute law out there that says you have to be punished for every mistake, and you certainly can’t punish a mistake with death! If you did, how would you ever learn to do better next time?”

Inoue-sensei directed an incredulous look at Akane. “Kid, are you sure you’re a ninja?”

“I’ve got the forehead protector to prove it,” Akane said fiercely. “And my way of the ninja is as good as anyone else’s.”

Akane and Inoue-sensei stared each other in the eye for what felt like an extremely long time. At first sight, it looked like any ordinary standoff, but at the same time Hazō’s intuition told him there was more to it than a simple battle of wills. He just couldn’t begin to say what.

In the end, it was Inoue-sensei who looked away.

Hazō briefly wondered where Akane got her forehead protector, given that she had never formally graduated, but decided it was a question for another time. Instead, he thought it was a good time to divert attention away from Inoue-sensei and her discomfort.

“This failure was no one person’s fault,” he said. “I should have drawn up better lists – you guys trust me to generate ideas, and if I had generated better ones at any point, all of this could have been avoided.”

“I should have made use of all the rumours and stuff we’d gathered, and paid more attention to the people at the inn, both their chakra and their behaviour,” Noburi said. “I even thought about getting access to the women’s bath, which would have told me about that other jōnin, but then decided against it in the end.

“I’ll know better next time,” he joked half-heartedly. “What kind of man turns down a legitimate excuse to peep on girls?”

Hazō couldn’t help thinking that Keiko would have something to say about that if she were here. Despite everything, he already missed her and her deadpan snarking.

“I let my guard down,” Kagome-sensei said bitterly. “Of course the DMZ would be a trap filled with A-rank killers and highly-trained rapid response teams. What was I even thinking? I should’ve mined the whole resort before we ever went in, instead of sitting back and messing about with escape routes. One wrong move from the stinking stinkers and they should’ve been in burning pieces raining down on an area a mile wide, not beating us to a pulp and chasing us halfway across the continent.”

“I was too passive,” Akane completed the circle of self-flagellation. “You guys gave me things to do, and I did them, but a ninja is supposed to be more than a tool. I should have made more of an effort to contribute to the planning and come up with clever ideas instead of making you do all the hard work. And then the one time I didn’t ask for instructions, I nearly killed myself.”

“So,” Inoue-sensei said wearily. “What have we learned?”

“We suck,” Noburi responded.

“But we're going to get better,” Akane said.

Hazō smiled. “And now we have a better idea of how.”

“And despite everything we did wrong,” Kagome-sensei concluded the analysis, “we are still alive.”