Nara was already at the diner when they arrived, lounging back in his seat and gazing mournfully at the ceiling as if it had just broken up with him.

“Good morning, Nara,” Hazō greeted him neutrally.

“Oh, you’re here,” Nara dragged his eyes back down. “I didn't expect your invitation, given what happened with the previous one you sent. I should apologise to you—“

Nara cut off as Keiko walked through the door behind Hazō.

“M-Mori!”

Keiko nodded politely in greeting, unable to do much about the fact that Nara had just used her real name in public.

“You were saying?” Hazō asked.

“Y-Yes,” Nara said, “the gaming night. I realise it was poor conduct, but I couldn’t refuse my father and my head of clan, and he was offering me two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Nara informal currency,” Keiko explained. “When there is some task you wish to accomplish, but for which you lack the mental or emotional resources, you spend time owed to you by other Nara. Time owed by higher-ranking Nara is more valuable, since they will be able to achieve more with it, and perhaps identify solutions beyond your own grasp. Were he to so desire, Nara would doubtless be able to exchange two hours of the clan leader’s time for a significant sum of his inferiors’, perhaps to be used on low-level research or even manual labour. Though it would of course be a criminal waste of potential.”

Hazō briefly imagined setting Nara Shikaku on his problems for two hours.

“It’s OK. I'd have done the same in your place,” he said honestly.

“Good,” Nara relaxed slightly. The tension in his face and shoulders, however, was still obvious even to Hazō.

“Nara, is something wrong?”

“No, nothing!” Nara snapped. “There is no need for concern.”

There was a sign for this. What was the sign for this?

Hazō put the tips of his left thumb and index finger together to form a circle, the remaining fingers curled against the centre of his palm. “You are withholding information to our mutual detriment.”

Nara stared, but only briefly. Hazō noted that Nara was staring at Hazō’s face, not his hand.

Nara glanced quickly at Mori, then away again.

“It isn’t relevant to our present situation.”

Hazō wasn’t willing to let it go so easily. If you seriously intended to befriend someone, you couldn't just abandon them to their worries. Fortunately, he'd been trained in interpersonal interaction by the best.

“You know,” Hazō said, “I was really looking forward to discussing more of Yumehara’s theories with you. But if you have too much on your mind already, I think it would be best to leave it for another time.”

Nara’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. I grew up with Ino.

“Fine,” he sighed in resignation a second later. "What it comes down to is... my clan plans its diplomatic strategies for decades in advance. It's easy considering Leaf’s heavily clan-based political layout and the resulting relatively static environment. Within those strategies, the probability of an influential new clan arising within the short term was considered very low. The factors of this clan choosing the Nara as its primary allies, and of the Nara also highly valuing this relationship, would impose additional complexity penalties. To say nothing of the absurdity of Jiraiya finding a partner he was prepared to marry.”

Hazō nodded along.

“Do you see where I am going with this?”

“You’re off-balance because things are changing too unexpectedly?” Hazō asked. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re taking this so personally.”

Keiko gave Hazō an uncomfortably familiar pitying look.

“The implication of this rapid shift in diplomatic circumstances," Keiko explained as if to a small child, "is that Nara suddenly finds himself in a similar position to me, namely a candidate for political marriage to an individual of unknown character with whom he will be expected to at least outwardly pursue a traditional family life and ultimately rear children.”

Nara nodded gratefully. “Bear in mind that the optimal scenario for my clan is for you to prove to be a high-worth ally, so the better things go for everyone else, the more doomed I am.” He glanced at Keiko. “No offence.”

“None taken,” Keiko said coolly. “I would also regard marriage to you as a regrettable imposition that contradicts my personal preferences and robs me of my desired lifestyle.”

“Glad to hear it,” Nara said. “The only thing more troublesome than women is women with amorous intentions.”

Hazō found himself thinking of Akane. There would be much fewer romantically traumatised people in this world if everyone’s first love were someone like her.

Still, while the idea of marrying Akane made his head spin, that was at least a vaguely positive feeling.

“Keiko,” he said, “are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Keiko turned to face him full-on.

“They have a library complex.”

That was all that needed to be said.

“On that note,” Nara took the opportunity to change the subject, “you said you had further thoughts on Yumehara.”

-o-

​ “So in Chapter 3,” Hazō briefly tore himself away from his noodles, “Yumehara goes on to say that Leaf is the true home of ninjutsu because through Senju Hashirama it is the direct successor of the bloodline of the Sage of Six Paths. But I was wondering… are there any clans that have claimed indirect succession? Say, if they were descended from the Sage’s brother?”​

“Of course,” Nara said. “It’s common knowledge, assuming a minimum of historical education.”

Hazō put down his chopsticks. This was important. “Which clans would those be? And what do they say?”

“Which clans?” Nara gave a slight smirk. “All of them. There is not one clan that has not at some point in its history claimed to be descended from the Sage of Six Paths or his close relatives. Perhaps yours can be the first."

"All of them?" Hazō repeated. "How does that work?"

“Suppose for the sake of example that the Hyūga claim direct descent. The Aburame want to do the same, but they aren’t going to say they’re a branch of the Hyūga, and they can’t afford to make the claim that they are the true successors and the Hyūga are lying. So instead they will say that they descend from the Sage’s brother, who is almost as great as the Sage of Six Paths, and ascribe him feats such as aiding in the creation of chakra, protecting the Sage while he vanquished various legendary monsters, inventing whichever ninjutsu are not already attributed to the Sage, and so forth. And if they encounter a stronger clan with the same story, why, the Sage must have had two brothers.”

“Elegant,” Keiko said. “Fictitious family bonds facilitate diplomatic alliances, while allowing stronger clans to assert their superiority via blood without the need for said blood to be spilled.”

“That's... exactly right,” Nara said, looking directly at Keiko for the first time, though not for long. “Although of course the system broke down during the Warring Clans period." He beckoned to Hazō. "Pass the miso paste.”

-o-

​ “It was just a poor choice of words,” Hazō insisted. “Why would I threaten Dr Yakushi for real?”

“How could you choose your words so poorly as to achieve that?” Nara countered. “Dr Yakushi is irreplaceable to Leaf. Half the clans would want him if he wasn’t already married to his work. You're too intelligent to say something that suicidal by accident."

Hazō chose not to address this comment directly. “Nara, if it had been a real threat, would I really be sitting in front of you now?”

“True,” Nara acknowledged. “Unless, of course, you happened to be so valuable to Jiraiya that he was forced to cover for you anyway. Also, a death threat against Dr Yakushi would put him under increased scrutiny, both for his own safety and because he might have provoked you by doing something his superiors would want to know about. That could be useful if you happened to have a personal stake in his activities at the time.”

Hazō very carefully didn’t say anything. This would probably still tell Nara too much, but it was better than the alternative.

“Of course,” Keiko said thoughtfully, “if you had reason to believe that Hazō was a skilled manipulator capable of running rings around Jiraiya, Dr Yakushi and the greater Leaf establishment, you would be obliged to report this information to your clan leader. Such talent in a realm outside sealcrafting would greatly increase Hazō’s value, and thus our clan’s, in your father’s eyes.”

“That is an interesting point,” Nara said. “Shall we order dessert? Chōji tells me this place does excellent manju.”

​ -o-

​ “You,” Auntie scowled at Hazō. “What do you want?”

Her gaze softened on seeing Kagome-sensei. “Ah, you’re back too, young man. Couldn’t stay away from those grimoires, hmm?”

“Fine craftsmanship,” Kagome-sensei said. “And you promised to tell me how they make the illuminating ink.”

Auntie’s face distorted in what might or might not have been a smile.

It quickly disappeared as she looked back to Hazō. “Well? You still haven’t answered my question. Or does everyone make their elders wait in whatever forsaken backwater you're from?”

“I’m here to help out like I promised, ma’am,” Hazō said awkwardly. “I didn’t get to do all the work I was going to last time due to… circumstances.”

“Circumstances!” Auntie barked. “You mean you got kicked out for bad behaviour. Right when I think that whelp Jiraiya has finally grown a backbone, he just up and spares you like you're that layabout godson of his. Soft! They’re all soft. Wouldn’t have put up with it in Tobirama’s day…”

“So how can I help?” Hazō interrupted as unobtrusively as possible.

“You know where the filing shelf is. Get to it.

“And you, young man,” she addressed Kagome-sensei, “follow me. My great-great-nephew gave me some wonderful green tea the other day…”

​ -o-

​ “Hey, Kurosawa. Whatcha doing?”

Hazō nearly dropped The Eighth Element: A Mystic’s Guide, an act which would probably have earned him summary disembowelment in this library.

“Yamanaka?!”

“Aww, you remembered,” Yamanaka gave a shy smile that might have worked if Hazō had for a moment believed that Yamanaka was capable of feeling shy.

“What are you doing here?” Hazō hissed.

“Well, a little bird told me you were back, and then I asked some other little birds and they said you were here in the library, burying yourself in musty old books instead of so much as letting me know you were in town. What’s the deal, Kurosawa?”

“Sorry,” Hazō mumbled. “I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to say hi?” Yamanaka gave him a disappointed look. “But not too busy for the Nara, huh. Or for,” she peered at the book in Hazō’s other hand, “A Truer Love: Transcending the Separation of the Sexes.

“Never mind,” she said curtly, “that explains everything.”

This time Hazō did drop the book.

Yamanaka caught it with a leisurely movement.

“You know,” she said, “you really ought to be more up front about these things. Helps a girl know where she stands.”

“N-No,” Hazō stammered. “It was just next in the row, and I didn’t look at the title before I—“

“Teasing, Kurosawa, teasing,” Yamanaka laughed. “Don’t make it too easy.

“Now, in return for toying with my maidenly feelings, why don’t you take a break and treat me to some barley tea? There’s a good place right around the corner. Buy my forgiveness now while it’s cheap.”

But didn’t she just say she’d only been teasing?

If there was one thing Hazō could be sure of at this juncture, it was that it would be a bad idea to become involved with Yamanaka—in any sense—while his immediate future was as uncertain and complicated as it was.

“I can’t,” Hazō said. “I promised Auntie I’d help.”

“And I’m not stopping you,” Yamanaka said. “She won’t mind if you take one teensy break. Or are you OK hanging out with Shikamaru but not with me? Is that it?” Her eyes drifted back to A Truer Love.

“N-No, not at all.”

“Well, then,” Yamanaka concluded triumphantly, “let’s go.”

“But—“

“Kurosawa,” Yamanaka said firmly. “Do you or do you not want a completely free opportunity to butter up the heir of the Yamanaka Clan ahead of the vote that will decide your position in Leaf forever?”

“Well,” Hazō said resignedly, “when you put it that way…”

​ -o-

​ “Really not as bad as you think,” Hazō told her. “As long as you’ve got heavy-duty furs, and know how to weatherproof your hideout, it’s more refreshing than painful. And the landscape is utterly unique. There’s nothing like it on the mainland that I’ve seen, or for that matter the islands. It’s so peaceful that it could be paradise if you didn’t have to go to so much effort to not die.”

Yamanaka was soaking up every word, at least until she looked out of the window and saw the sky.

“Wow, time flies. I’d apologise for the lecture you’re going to get from Auntie, but eh. You deserve it for not letting me know you’re back.

“Speaking of, you’ve at least gone to see Akane, right?”

“No,” Hazō said, “I haven’t. There have been… reasons.”

Now Yamanaka was giving him a look. No, a look. Hazō had never appreciated before quite how cold those pupil-less Yamanaka eyes could be.

She put her cup down on the table.

“Real talk, Kurosawa. That girl is storybook levels of into you. Not just 'won't shut up about how great you are' levels. That's par for the course. No, we're talking 'trains like a maniac every single day so she doesn't slow you down when you come back for her as she knows you will' levels. If you lose something like that because you don't have the balls to fight for it, you'll regret it for the rest of your life.

“Fuck politics. Go be with her. If you don’t learn how to deal when clan obligations clash with personal feelings, you won’t survive in our world anyway.”

She stood up.

“Oh, and make sure you impress the clans, OK?” she added in a lighter voice. “I won’t forgive you if you make them think I’ve been hanging out with a loser.”

​