Hazō could feel Jiraiya’s killing intent as a physical presence in the room. The massive weight hung over his head, and a single wrong move would bring it down to crush him. It wasn’t hurting him—not yet—but it made Hazō feel as if Jiraiya was capable of killing him without doing anything, just by letting his anger break its chains. Hazō had been in mortal danger before, but this time it didn’t feel like danger. It felt like certainty.

Hazō took a deep breath, knowing it might be his last.

“My words were ill-considered and rude, and I humbly apologize for them. But they did not convey any underlying ill intentions, because none exist. My poor wording was a result of passion clouding my speech; I did not intend to imply the possible use of force or other hostile actions against Dr Yakushi, nor against yourself or other Leaf personnel."

“Is that so?” Jiraiya asked, that sense of terrible foreboding still there in his voice. “Then how exactly were you planning to go ‘pretty damn far’ in dealing with Dr Yakushi?”

“That was an appallingly stupid choice of words, sir. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and what I believed I was doing was explaining how Akane’s health was very important to me, and how high a priority it occupied in my actions. Had I thought before speaking, instead of letting my emotions take over my tongue, that is what I would have tried to express in a polite and rational fashion.

“My ‘pretty damn far’, if you’ll forgive my repeated rudeness, would have described how much of my own effort and resources I was prepared to expend to support Akane in a productive way, such as the goodwill I hope I’ve accumulated over my stay in Leaf, or favours which I was prepared to owe you and other Leaf citizens.

“At no time did the idea of harming any of those citizens occur to me in any way. That would be a betrayal of my team’s relationship with Leaf, as well as of the village I believe to be the closest place in the world to the utopia I wish to someday build. To say nothing of the fact that such a betrayal would be extremely unlikely to improve the situation for either party. It is because I never considered harming Leaf or its people that I was able to say something so foolish and, in retrospect, suicidal, to you in person.

“Sir, I would also like to emphasise that the mistake was my own, and my team would never condone the statement I inadvertently made. Like me, they haven’t the slightest intention of doing any harm to Leaf or its personnel.”

Jiraiya looked pointedly in Kagome-sensei’s direction.

Crap.

Hazō hurriedly bowed, in the hope that the sudden movement would pull back Jiraiya’s attention without getting him killed on reflex.

“Sir, I am prepared to accept any punishment you deem appropriate for my failure, but please understand that you will be punishing me for my carelessness and stupidity, not for being a potential threat to your village.”

The mass of deadly energy in Jiraiya’s hand flickered as if hungry to lash out. He sighed.

“Inoue.”

“Yes, sir!”

“The kid still doesn’t get what he’s done. Explain it to him.”

Hazō turned to look at Inoue-sensei, whose face was a featureless mask of ice.

“Jiraiya brought missing-nin into Leaf on his own authority, probably bending Leaf law to breaking point in the process. That already made his life difficult, because Leaf will be full of people who hate missing-nin and want us dead—or worse—for all kinds of reasons. We have no legal rights whatsoever, so our survival depends on trusting Jiraiya to protect us.

“Then you publicly threaten a senior Leaf official. It doesn’t matter what you thought you were doing. That’s what ANBU, and any other observers with those crazy senses they have, heard you do. You made Jiraiya look like he made a huge error of judgement in trusting you, and like that error put Dr Yakushi in danger.

“Jiraiya may have lost a lot of face in Leaf. To diplomats like us, reputation is more valuable than chakra, and harder to get back. His enemies will be all over this, and his allies will be wondering if they’re taking a risk in continuing to support him. Even as a master negotiator and manipulator like Jiraiya, there’s only so far you can soften a blow like that.

“And as the cherry on top of the cake, you threatened Dr Yakushi to Jiraiya’s face. In other words, you, his subordinate with no formal position or legal standing, publicly disrespected him. Jiraiya may be uniquely open-minded about relating to us as people rather than tools, but even then I only go as far as I do with the back-and-forth because I have a lifetime’s experience in seeing the invisible lines I must not cross. If your subordinates don’t respect you, you can’t trust them. If they insult you in public, you have to be seen to punish them or you look weak.

“So even if he accepts that you meant no harm, Jiraiya still has to weigh whether he needs to kill us to prove that he’s strong and decisive, and ready to make up for his mistakes and protect the village, at the cost of having to sacrifice all the value we represent and everything he’s already invested in us.”

She looked questioningly at Jiraiya.

He nodded.

He slowly raised the orb in his hand, still buzzing with the raw essence of instant death, and seemed to study it contemplatively.

“Please, sir…. may I speak?”

All heads turned to Keiko.

Keiko had backed into the furthest corner from Jiraiya, leaning heavily against the wall. Her breathing was rough, and her eyes were locked on Jiraiya’s orb. Gradually, she pulled her gaze up to his face.

“Be brief.”

Keiko closed her eyes, then opened them again.

“Sir. Inoue-sensei has enumerated the disadvantages of permitting us to live. Please allow me to do likewise for the advantages.”

Her voice was cool, neutral, almost emotionless.

“As you are already aware, our team has three Bloodline Limits you cannot obtain elsewhere, as well as a sealmaster who performs research and has lived to advanced age, and a jōnin with a rare and extensive skillset. In addition, while Akane is not technically a member of our team, her ability to function as a Leaf ninja is strongly connected to us. Most notably, we hold to an ideology which is closely aligned with yours in a way that is not the case for most ninja. The latter gives you strong reason to trust our motivations, and to believe that we will pursue compatible objectives not only at your direction but also with our own time and resources.

“As Hazō has explained, the present situation does not represent an issue of trust, but rather an issue of competence. Our competence will only increase with the passage of time as we gain skill and experience, and if you so desire, you are able to accelerate this process at your discretion by investing in us further. In other words, we are an asset with unlimited growth potential. On the other hand, by… eliminating us, you will receive only a flat… reputational gain, mitigating existing losses instead of… generating new opportunities.

“Finally… I wish to… apologise for my… failure to prevent… this scenario... It is my responsibility… to pre-emptively identify… errors in Hazō’s plans… and there was surely… something… I could have done…

“Please don’t kill us.”

Time passed.

Jiraiya lifted his hand.

The Lightning Element chakra surged…

And blinked out in a flash of light.

“You need to understand,” Jiraiya said with an unyielding but no longer terrifying sternness, “that you’re out of second chances. If this was anywhere but Leaf, or if you were dealing with anyone but me, you would already be dead. That option is still on the table, and it will stay on the table until you tip your scales back from ‘liability’ to ‘asset’.”

He took a step back, out of the cell.

“You have to leave Leaf,” he said in a more normal voice. “I’m giving you three days to finish up your ninjutsu training, then you’re out, ready or not.”

There was a series of soft thuds as various people slumped against walls and the floor in palpable relief.

“Thank you, sir!” Hazō, Inoue-sensei and Noburi said at once.

“I’m choosing to trust that your earlier actions were an honest mistake. But mistakes need to have consequences if you’re going to learn from them. That means I’m revoking your guest privileges. I want to see you on the training field or not at all.”

“Sir,” Hazō said hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“What about Akane? It’ll be bad for her if I can’t visit, and she shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

Jiraiya moved his head around in a circular gesture of exasperation. “Kid, I get that you care about your girlfriend to the point of temporary insanity. But it hasn’t been twenty-four hours since you threatened Dr Yakushi in front of everyone, and now you’re asking me to send you to his workplace. I’d like to have a political career left over after this, if you don’t mind.”

He motioned to the guard. “They’re being released under Protocol Hogo-4. Give them their gear and send them back to their quarters, heavy escort.”

The team’s stares followed Jiraiya’s back, then transferred themselves to Hazō. But nobody said a word.

​ o-o-o-o

The rooms were suddenly claustrophobic, the pink wallpaper garish and inescapable while the windows mocked Hazō with views just out of reach.

He bowed to his friends in deep apology.

“I’m sorry. I put your lives in danger due to my stupidity. Again. Please believe me when I say I appreciate exactly how badly I messed up, and how you have every right to be angry with me.”

“I’m ashamed of you, Hazō,” Inoue-sensei said bitterly. “I’m ashamed of myself. What kind of fucking awful teacher am I that my genin can make threats in the face of one of the most powerful men in the world by accident?”

“Seriously, Hazō,” Noburi added, “what the fuck? I knew you had your doubts about Yakushi-sensei, but how’d you go from ‘there might be something not quite right with this guy’ to ‘rah, rah, he’s going to kill my girlfriend, I’d better make an ass of myself in front of Jiraiya until he chucks us all in prison’? Now you’ve gone and ruined everything. My apprenticeship is over, we won’t be allowed to see the Leaf teams again… Keiko’s locked herself in the bedroom and won’t talk to anyone… Maybe next time you’ll think about the rest of us before you go running off to shout conspiracy theories at people who can wipe us out with their little finger. Maybe you’ll even talk to us first.”

“It’s my fault,” Inoue-sensei muttered. “He thought checking with me was going to be enough. Turns out it wasn’t.

“I should have done all the talking. I shouldn’t have assumed that Hazō would learn not to threaten powerful Leaf ninja just because he nearly got us killed in the library.”

“I am sorry,” Hazō repeated, with a touch of desperation. “I don’t know what else I can say or do.”

He cast a cautious glance at Kagome-sensei, but Kagome-sensei was twisted up in his armchair, somewhere between sleep and catatonia. He thought it might be Inoue-sensei’s doing.

“If you never open your mouth again, I’ll be happy forever,” Noburi said, but he didn’t put as much malice in it as he could have. “Or at least sew it shut until we’re out of the Fire Country.”

Had Hazō known a way to eat without using his mouth, he might have given it serious consideration.

​ -o-

​ They weren’t allowed to leave their quarters except once a day for training. No visitors came, or perhaps the guards turned them away before they got close. Inoue-sensei had gone from furious to melancholy. Noburi hardly spoke to Hazō except to make the occasional scathing comment. Keiko unlocked the bedroom door eventually, but she had withdrawn into herself and no longer spoke to anyone. And Kagome-sensei… in his more lucid moments, Kagome-sensei periodically opened his mouth to say something to Hazō, only to close it again as if unable to find the words.

Then, on the second day, it happened.

Hazō was practising imbibing the transcendent wisdom of the spirit world when he heard a familiar voice.

“Good morning, Mother Nana,” Dr Yakushi greeted his instructor. “How is my aura looking today?”

“Crystal clear,” Mother Nana beamed. “As always.”

“Do you mind if I speak with the young man in private for a minute?”

“Please, feel free.”

As Mother Nana retreated, Hazō looked at Dr Yakushi in puzzlement. “Dr Yakushi? I didn’t think I was allowed to be anywhere near you.”

“Jiraiya can forbid you to see me, but he cannot forbid me to see you. And I needed to know. Why would you threaten my life, Kurosawa?” Dr Yakushi asked mournfully. “Were we not comrades after our own fashion? What could I possibly have done to offend you so?”

Hazō felt a wave of guilt. Looking at Dr Yakushi’s expression of hurt innocence, he realised that he and Inoue-sensei had acknowledged how there were multiple possible interpretations of the doctor’s behaviour, but then gone ahead and picked the very worst one without hesitation. He’d never meant to make a threat against Dr Yakushi, but he’d still treated him as an enemy before Jiraiya. He’d accused the man who saved Akane’s life.

“It was all a misunderstanding!” Hazō said quickly. “I never meant to threaten anybody! I just chose the wrong words, and Jiraiya couldn’t take the risk. Please believe me—I never meant you any harm!”

Dr Yakushi gave a soft smile. “I want to believe you, Kurosawa. You never struck me as the kind of young man who would take against others without good reason, much less threaten them. If you say it was all a mistake, then I will take a leap of faith and trust you one more time.

“As things stand, it is not my welfare I need to be concerned about but Ishihara’s. If you disappear from her life so abruptly, it will be highly detrimental to her health. I will issue a formal statement of forgiveness, and pull such strings as are available to me, and perhaps I will be able to secure you a visit before you leave.

“Now if you will excuse me, I must find Noburi. I may be unable to serve as his master for the time being, but I can still offer him reassurance, and perhaps some advice for his independent training in the future.”

​ -o-

​ “Hazō-sensei! You’ve been gone so long. Did something happen?” Akane seemed torn between bouncing in her bed and leaning forward with worry.

“I, uh, kind of,” Hazō squirmed. “I may have gone to Jiraiya because I was worried about your safety, and accidentally made him think I was threatening Dr Yakushi in order to protect you.”

Akane’s face turned ashen as she processed the implications.

“You did what?!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Hazō said plaintively. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Hazō-sensei, you absolute idiot!” Akane screeched. “How many times are you going to keep risking your life for me? I am not worth dying for!”

She burst into tears.

Hazō stood there, at a complete loss for what to say or do.

“Is it over?” Akane forced out. “Is this you saying goodbye before they execute you?”

“No! No, he already threw us in prison and nearly killed us. But we managed to talk our way out of it. Or possibly he decided to forgive us on his own. Or there was complex political stuff going on and I will never know what really happened. But either way, he let us go.”

“Is everyone else all right?”

“Uh. Jiraiya didn’t hurt anybody, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hazō hedged.

“Hazō-sensei, you idiot,” Akane repeated. “My safety doesn’t matter! You not getting killed does. Promise me you’ll never do that again!”

“Your safety does matter,” Hazō snapped. “Stop saying it doesn’t. You are precious to me, and I don’t intend to take stupid risks for any reason, but if I have to put my life on the line to protect you in the future, I’ll do it without hesitation.”

But this only made Akane cry harder.

Hazō mentally kicked himself. Maybe there could have been a better way of phrasing that.

“Akane,” he said gently, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I don’t want to put myself in danger. That’s crazy. Nobody wants to put themselves in danger. But some things are important enough that I will do it anyway if I have to, and you are one of those things.”

Then he stood and waited awkwardly until Akane’s tears slowed down.

“What happens now?” Akane asked. “Is Jiraiya going to punish you? Is he going to exile you from Leaf? Am I going to lose you?”

Hazō shook his head emphatically. “We’re being kicked out of Leaf, but he didn’t say it was permanent. He gave us three days to finish up our ninjutsu training, but we’ve been under house arrest apart from that. Luckily, Dr Yakushi spoke up on our behalf, so I got to see you and explain things before we leave tomorrow.”

“He really is a sweetheart. How did you manage to threaten someone like that, even by accident?”

“Reasons,” Hazō said uneasily. In addition to still feeling guilty for how he’d treated Dr Yakushi, he also felt that the doctor’s own hospital was not the best case to air any concerns about him. “Let’s talk about that another time.”

“But there will be another time, right?” Akane looked into his eyes searchingly.

“Of course there will! Akane, you are the most important person in the world to me—well, setting aside my mother, and I guess I shouldn’t downplay the importance of the rest of the team either, but it’s you who takes priority, though that’s not to say I’m placing special expectations on you, unless you feel that special expectations would be appropriate as a reflection of your importance…”

Akane gave him a look of wry resignation. Hazō had a distinct sense that he was probably saying something wrong.

So for once, Hazō thought about it until he figured out how to say something right.

“Akane, no matter how much I may care about other people, none of them are the world’s best apprentice, and never will be. I won’t let it end like this. I will earn my way back into Jiraiya and Leaf’s good graces, and I will come back to you. No matter what.”

Akane gave a bittersweet smile. “Hazō-sensei, will you play me Tears of Red one more time?”

​ -o-

​ It was, though Hazō felt it shouldn’t have been, a bright and sunny day. Jiraiya stood facing the team on the other side of the gate. In front of them lay the Village Hidden in the Leaves, abalone shells on the rooftops dancing with sunlight. A place of new beginnings suddenly ended, a chapter in Hazō’s life cut short. Behind them lay the thick shadows of the forest, ready to welcome the missing-nin back.

“This is Team Aomori,” Jiraiya said, indicating the four Leaf ninja giving Hazō’s team cold, suspicious looks. “They will escort you safely to a Fire Country border of your choice. I’ll be in touch via the usual means when I have a mission for you. Inoue, use those codes I gave you if you need to reach me in an emergency, and only in an emergency.

“Kids,” he gave a weary smile, “contrary to appearances, I really do like you. That’s why I get pissed off when you do something that nearly makes me have to kill you. For Sage’s sake, think before you act from now on. And be safe out there.”