​ The Fifth Hokage seemed to be bearing up well under the strain of his unasked-for office. His attitude as he studied Team Rockfall 2 was confident, his expression commanding and his face revealing nothing but relaxed attention. It was a far cry from the playful, lighthearted Jiraiya Hazō had once known, but also nothing like the exhausted wreck his pessimistic side had pictured.

“Hazō. Noburi. Akane. I’m glad to see you’re well.” The voice, now, that had more than a trace of weariness in it. It crossed Hazō’s mind that they were being offered a gesture of trust, because he didn’t doubt for a second that Jiraiya could make himself sound as alert as he needed.

“Thank you, sir,” Akane said. “Shall I begin my report?”

“Go ahead.”

“We met the contact in Ise as planned and delivered the message. That was when he told us about Goda, a senior yakuza who had visited the bar several times. He said that Goda was due to leave Ise on a ship called the Sunset Racer.

“Noburi was the one who realised that because senior yakuza must know a lot about the underworld in general, odds were good that Goda would know something about Akatsuki. We came up with a plan to capture Goda, and then we got in touch with you through the Summon Realm.”

“Nice job, kids,” Jiraiya gave a small smile.

“Sir?”

“I’ll be honest, when I sent you out on this mission, I was worried you’d show some of your famous initiative and do something we’d all regret. But you saw an opportunity, made a plan, and asked for the go-ahead from your superiors as soon as you could. That’s a flawless, textbook performance. And it’s made only sweeter by the fact that I have Goda downstairs, so obviously you pulled it off.

“But a mission without complications is like a hyperactive Nara,” he said wryly. “Never heard of one, never will. Akane, hit me.”

“Should I recap the plan first? I don’t know how much detail Keiko gave you.”

“I’m all ears.” Jiraiya leaned forward, abandoning his ramrod-straight stance to rest his elbows on his desk.

“We set up an ambush for the Sunset Racer out in the sea, well away from Ise. Keiko and Noburi placed a skytower on the water for summoning, then waited beneath the surface with three of Keiko’s pangolins, using seaweed for camouflage. The rest of us waited up above using skywalkers.

“When the ship arrived, the pangolins broke the rudder, and then attacked under the cover of misterators. Panjandrum and Panchipāma—“

“Panjandrum?” Jiraiya echoed. “Huh. Carry on.”

“Sir. Those two engaged Goda’s immediate bodyguards, while Pankurashun made a hole above the waterline and climbed in to clear out any possible reinforcements. The rest of us hung back, stayed concealed and acted as support.

“Pankurashun finished his part first—he killed four yakuza and an uncertain number of sailors who... who were fighting to protect their ship. We didn’t count the bodies afterwards.”

Jiraiya frowned. “So the sailors participated in the fighting. All of them? How many were there?”

“Sixty,” Akane said heavily. “Sixty sailors.”

Her expression clouded over.

Hazō would be a failure as a boyfriend if he stood by and did nothing, but he couldn’t exactly interrupt the report to cheer up Akane. Not that he knew what words of solace he could offer in the face of what they’d done. Right now, he decided, the best thing he could do was take over from her while she regained her composure.

“Upstairs,” Hazō said, “there were eleven yakuza, but only one engaged in combat, and was killed almost immediately. The two ninja, though, managed to kill Panjandrum, and I think if the battle had gone on too long, they would have won against Panchipāma and Pankurashun as well. We underestimated them.”

“I think we might have overestimated the pangolins, frankly,” Noburi commented. “I mean, the ninja had more chakra than we did, but way less than Jōtarō. That puts them at high chūnin tops.”​ ​ “So you drained them,” Jiraiya said carefully.

“Yes, sir,” Noburi grinned. “While the pangolins were keeping them busy, I drained the two ninja and the entire rest of the ship into unconsciousness.”

“You used your mist drain ability in front of Minami.”

“Um. Yes, sir. But she already knew. We... had used it earlier to take out a thug who was threatening one of the contacts.”

Noburi squirmed at Jiraiya’s rapidly harshening glare.

“I was supposed to be the only person in Leaf who knew about that,” Jiraiya growled, “and that’s only because I asked you for a full tactical assessment when you agreed to join the clan. Now you’re telling me that the Minami Clan has that information as well. Do you realise how much of my work you’ve just ruined, Noburi?”

Since the team had already decided to be open with Jiraiya, Hazō chose to accept the blame immediately. (This had nothing to do with the fact that if he didn’t, Noburi would be sure to set the record straight with plenty of his trademark venom.)

“Actually, that was me. I told her about it during planning without thinking about the consequences. I’m sorry.”

Jiraiya put his hand to his face, incidentally or deliberately blocking Hazō from his field of view.

“But is it really that bad, sir? I mean, when you think about it, the risk to Noburi from having it revealed isn’t that significant, and—“

“Hazō,” Jiraiya cut him off, “the Minami were going to be my tool—our tool—to pull the carpet out from under the Hyūga. They were a dying clan, with the Hyūga using their influence to choke them economically and politically, until the Third personally stepped in. They’ve been Hokage loyalists ever since, and this was going to be their chance to repay that debt. Giving them leverage over our clan, any leverage at all, will disrupt a crucial power imbalance that I’ve been counting on to make this work.”

Jiraiya looked to the heavens as if seeking support, but found only the unsympathetic office ceiling.

“Ah, forget it. I don’t have time to waste on lecturing you right now. Get on with the report.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Hazō looked down sheepishly.

“We searched the ship and didn’t find anything noteworthy except a coded ledger and a sketch of—of personal significance to Goda. We weren’t sure whether we were supposed to give them straight to you, but in the end I thought it would be better to hand them in with the prisoners to give Cryptography and Interrogation respectively a head start.

“Right call,” Jiraiya said. “It’s not like I can break yakuza codes with a single glance. Not all of them, anyway. Speaking of the prisoners, I notice you gave me two bonus gifts I never asked for.”

“That was Captain Minami’s decision. She decided that since they were Goda’s bodyguards, they might have picked up relevant information while working for him, or at least you could use their stories to cross-check his.”

“She's not wrong. I just wish they weren’t Chashu Clan. Those guys lost a lot of territory to Mist during the Noodle Incident, and they were one of the clans that collaborated with us to drive Mist out. They’re one of Noodle’s most Leaf-friendly clans now, and they are going to be pissed if they find out we killed two of their ninja without provocation.

“Which brings us to the most important part.” Jiraiya narrowed his eyes. “Can anyone link the attack to Leaf?”

“No,” Hazō said. “No, they can’t. Captain Minami decided we couldn’t take the risk that the survivors saw the pangolins well enough for someone to identify them. We discussed it, we looked for ways to save their lives… but in the end we couldn’t think of anything that didn’t risk an OPSEC breach. So Kagome-sensei planted explosive charges… and we killed them. All sixty civilians, plus the yakuza.”

Jiraiya didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Then, softly, “I’m proud of you kids.”

What?

Hazō’s expression must have spoken for him.

Jiraiya straightened up.

“Ninja only kill to protect. Not because it’s easier than the alternative. Not because we can. That’s the village Sarutobi-sensei created, the ideal he passed down to us. The legacy he died fighting to protect.

“The fact that you made the effort not to take lives when you didn’t have to is proof that you belong in Leaf. It means that, despite being brought up in a village of villains and murderers, you are capable of inheriting the Will of Fire.

“And the fact that you decided to kill them to protect the village is the flip side of that coin. I know it was hard for you, kids. I really do. You’re idealists who think civilian lives matter the way ninja lives matter, and learning to put aside your ideals so you can do what has to be done is one of the hardest lessons the shinobi world has to teach.

“But in the end, you did the right thing. Never doubt that.”

“Th—Thank you, sir.” Akane gave a hesitant smile, moisture gathering in her eyes.

“Do we have to kill the Chashu ninja?” Hazō asked. “If we can turn them, they could make great additions to your network. They’re skilled fighters and they have experience working in the underworld. Or you could ransom them back, or find some other use for them.”

“There’s that idealism again,” Jiraiya sighed. “We need every ounce of information those girls have and that means T&I will be working overtime on them. They’re not going to be of any use to anyone once it’s over, and we couldn’t trust them even if they were.”

“Couldn’t you use the Yamanaka?”

“Yamanaka abilities aren’t foolproof. Do you think Uchiha fucking Itachi,” Jiraiya’s fists tightened, “would be in Akatsuki right now if we could give foolproof loyalty tests to whomever we wanted? Do you think Mizuki would have got to screw over Akane?

“Look, you know I’m not the kind of guy to let potential assets go to waste. It’s the only reason you made it to Iron alive in the first place. But those two? They were dead the moment you decided to go after Goda.”

“I… I understand.” And Hazō did. He’d seen what clan loyalty meant to Keiko and Noburi. Even now, with their clans having declared them anathema, and with no way back, they still thought of themselves as Mori and Wakahisa, and he didn’t know what it would take to truly make them part of Jiraiya’s clan (though a name would probably be a good start). It had never been a realistic hope to break the Chashu’s clan allegiances after kidnapping their client and interrogating them as enemy combatants.

“Just how it is, kid,” Jiraiya said. “Anything else?”

This was the hard part. They’d talked it over, he and Akane and Noburi. He hadn’t been sure until the last moment that it was the right thing to do, and maybe he still wasn’t. But Akane, World’s Best Girlfriend and unerring moral compass, and Noburi, who was better with people than Hazō would ever be, both agreed that Jiraiya needed to know.

Hazō glanced around the room. “We’re completely alone, right? And all your privacy seals are up?”

Jiraiya looked resigned. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Well… you know how I accidentally told Captain Minami about the mist drain?”

“Go on,” Jiraiya said warily.

“Kagome-sensei reacted badly.”

Jiraiya buried his head in his hands. “How many casualties?”

“Err… none. Not even any injuries.”

Jiraiya looked up again. “Thank the fucking Sage of Six Paths and all his infinite brothers. I owe Mari a drink.”

“You do?”

“She bet me Kagome would screw something up and you’d have to bail him out at least once. Looking back, I have no idea how that woman got me to take her up on it.

“Anyway. He reacted badly. What’s the damage?”

“He tried to kill her in her sleep.”

Jiraiya closed his eyes. A blood-chilling silence seeped into the room from behind the Hokage’s desk, snuffing out all sound before it could come into existence.

When Jiraiya finally spoke, his voice was ninja wire tense enough to walk like a tightrope over an abyss, and part of Hazō felt that they were doing that exact thing.

“Does she know?”

“Yes!” Hazō yelped. “But it’s not as bad as it sounds! She promised to drop the whole thing from her report in exchange for Kagome-sensei—“

“Whoa!” Noburi exclaimed. “That’s, uh, can I cut in here?”

Jiraiya looked at him with an unreadable expression. Noburi apparently took it as consent.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Noburi said in a voice more casual than anything Hazō had ever heard from him in real life, “but Hazō’s doing his usual thing of trying to wedge his foot so far in his mouth it comes out of his ass. I mean obviously Captain Minami wasn’t planning to cover up the attempted murder of a Leaf ninja. That would be crazy. Sure, she did say that at the time, but she was panicking and would have said anything to stop us from killing her. Honestly, we were all feeling that way. You said it yourself—a Minami would never dream of betraying the Hokage.”

“Th—That’s right,” Akane said. “Afterwards, we spent ages talking about how best to break it to you, sir, and she never once suggested pretending nothing happened.”

“Exactly,” Noburi nodded his head rapidly. “All completely innocent discussion. Hazō there has just proved how much phrasing and delivery matter when dealing with sensitive issues, and we couldn’t afford to misrepresent anything the way he nearly did.”

Akane opened her mouth to deliver further reassurances, while Hazō silently made a note never to say anything ever again.

“Enough,” Jiraiya’s voice slammed down on them like a MEW pillar from the skies.

“How has Minami responded? What’s her attitude towards the rest of you? Has she said what she’s planning to do about it? Do you know if she’s told anyone?”

“We just about managed to patch things up,” Noburi said. “She agreed not to share the clan secret or tell anyone about the murder attempt—present company excepted, obviously, as I said. In return, Kagome has… what was Hazō’s expression… sworn fealty to her. He’s going to unconditionally share his seals and knowledge with her, and he’s promised to get his head seen to once the mission’s over.

“He has also threatened to murder her entire clan if she betrays us.

“I think she’s the kind of person who wears her heart on her sleeve,” he went on, “which is to say a poor liar. And so far I've seen no sign that she’s broken her word and told anyone.”

Hazō didn’t know what reaction to expect after dropping this implosion seal on Jiraiya, but all he got in the end was a grim “I see.”

After a while, Jiraiya looked up as if remembering that the group was still there.

“We’re done here. Go resupply.”

Hazō hesitated. “Um, Jiraiya. Sir. I don’t want to be rude, but I realise you must be under a lot of stress right now, and we’re part of your clan, so we might be the only people who don’t have an agenda in regard to you right now. Is there anything we can do for you?”

Jiraiya glanced at Akane.

“You gave me back my world, sir,” Akane said firmly. “It was the second most youthful thing anyone has ever done for me. I won't betray your trust.

“Besides,” she added quietly, “I hope to be part of your clan as well someday.”

Hazō’s brain ground to a halt.

Jiraiya contemplated the three of them, then grimaced.

There was the pop of the Transformation Technique being dispelled.

The man beneath the disguise was still Jiraiya. Mostly. The bloodshot eyes with heavy bags beneath them were new, and his clothes no longer bore the same pristine look. Even the Hokage hat was slightly askew.

“Stressed?” He laughed bitterly. “You have no idea. There is not one person that comes into this office who doesn’t want something from me that I can’t give them. About the only one I can trust is Shikaku, and that’s because he’s gone all in on making my regime work. And even he has his own endgame, which I’m pretty sure involves making the Nara Clan indispensable. Bastard’s going to pull it off, too, because he knows I can’t turn down the support.

“I’m finally getting why Sarutobi-sensei was the God of Shinobi. He managed to do all this practically single-handed and be a legendary badass and still find the time and energy to reform Leaf society. When we get my godson back, the first thing I’m going to do is cure him of wanting to be Hokage.

“Can you help me? I don’t think so. But even though I apparently can’t trust you to hold a wooden spoon without cutting your own throat, I can trust you to be on my side, and that’s not nothing. Plus it is such a damn relief to have a debriefing where I don’t have to sound like some kind of badly-made clone. ‘Report. Proceed. Acknowledged. Noted. Dismissed.’ If I ever had a character in one of my books speak the way I’ve been speaking since I became Hokage, I’d have to commit honourable suicide the second I put down the brush.

“So at this point I’m afraid to ask, but is there anything else?”

“My mother,” Hazō said. It was about the only thing capable of reviving his frozen mental functions. “I know what we’re doing is more urgent, and more important as far as Leaf is concerned, but I still want to ask. Do you have any plans for how to extract her? If not, can we help make some?”

“We have our eyes on Mist,” Jiraiya said. “The most dangerous enemy’s a cornered one. If there are openings, we won't miss them, but right now Mist is on high alert and we can’t spare the resources to work around that.”

Of course. The same answer as before. Kurosawa Hana was only ever going to be one more foreign ninja to Jiraiya, maybe a useful asset but not as important as any of the thousand other things he was interested in right now.

It probably didn't take the world's greatest spymaster to read Hazō's thoughts.

“Ah, what the hell. I was going to save it until Keiko and Kagome were back, but I guess there’s no actual harm in telling you now. Listen up, all of you, because what you’re about to hear is the truth, and it has always been the truth, and when the time is right it will be the truth known across the world.

“A couple of years ago, a bunch of Mist ninja realised the superiority of Leaf’s ideology. It was obvious to them that Leaf was better in every way, and that if the Mizukage went to war against Leaf, Mist would lose and be ruined. But because the Mizukage was a tyrant who ruled through fear, they had no chance of reforming Mist from within. So they defected.

“A large group of Mist-nin, led by a Leaf sympathiser named Shikigami, seized an opening to escape Mist, and headed into the Fire Country. Unfortunately for them, the Mizukage had a hate-boner for traitors, and sent hunter-nin who intercepted them and slaughtered them nearly to a man. There were only five survivors, and Leaf decided to keep their existence secret so that the Mizukage wouldn’t know his secrets had been compromised.

“But now that Leaf has won the war, thanks in part to the heroic efforts of the defectors, it will soon be time to reveal the truth. These five were never traitorous ‘missing-nin’ who turned their backs on the village system. They were never poached by Leaf in blatant violation of international norms. They merely traded one village for another on their own initiative.

“And later, we will be able to admit that the defectors had left one person behind, a jōnin who would spy on Mist for us and help prevent the Mizukage’s madness from plunging the continent into another full-scale world war. She, too, will be welcome in Leaf without any of the stigma attached to missing-nin.”

The team stared, open mouthed.

“Five people?” Akane recovered first. “But Kagome wasn’t a Mist-nin, was he?”

Jiraiya smirked. “Don’t underestimate the Fifth Hokage, kid. Kagome was an outspoken critic of the Mizukage’s brutality, which got him sentenced to ‘corrective treatment’ in Mist T&I. He was eventually released because he was too valuable as a sealmaster, but the torture left him an emotionally troubled man with a confused memory full of gaps. He deserves only respect and compassion for the sacrifices he’s made in the name of Leaf’s enlightened ideals.”

“But will people really buy it?” Noburi asked.

“It’s a win-win situation for the clans. It makes Leaf look good, it makes Mist look bad, and they can pretend that they accepted your citizenship on merit rather than because I bullied them into it. In foreign policy terms, given the trouncing Mist just got, it’s going to look plausible that the smarter ninja saw it coming and decided not to go down with the ship."

The three genin winced as one.

“Sorry, poor choice of words. Anyway, look, even though this is officially the truth, and has always been the truth, don’t forget to keep your ‘cover story’ as missing-nin in place until it’s time for the big reveal. Got it?”

“Got it.”

"And Jiraiya, sir?" Hazō added. "Thank you."

“Good. Now get lost. And check in on Mari. She misses you kids, heaven knows why.”

Jiraiya’s impeccable disguise was already back up by the time Akane opened the door.

​ -o-

​ “Ow, my bones! When I said I wanted to get thinner, this wasn’t what I meant!”

“Sorry, Mari-sensei.” Akane reluctantly disengaged from her hug.

“It’s great to see you all,” Mari-sensei beamed.

Hazō sensed danger and reacted instantly. Knowing he wouldn’t have time to dodge to the side, he did the only possible thing and stepped backwards, out of Mari-sensei’s inferior reach.

Unfortunately, the three-times-running Mist Women’s CQC champion had seen the move coming. She’d manoeuvred herself such that Hazō’s evasion took him straight into Akane, whom she had subtly repositioned during their hug.

Hazō felt something soft press against his back. He froze as he realised what it was.

And in that moment, Mari-sensei reached over and ruffled his hair.

“Ahh, that was satisfying.”

She gave Hazō a happy hug.

“Say what you like, you can’t beat tormenting the innocent for stress relief.”

“Has it been that stressful?” Noburi asked.

“It’s a pit of vipers. Giant venomous chakra vipers. With other, smaller, giant venomous chakra vipers riding them. There’s a whole world of treachery and manipulation, and the clan heads’ wives will do anything to protect their pecking order and push their clans’ interests, usually in that order of priority. Anything goes, from lies to blackmail to seduction.

“I haven’t felt so alive in years.”

“How are the politics generally?” Hazō asked. “What’s been happening here?”

“The calm before the storm,” Mari-sensei said seriously. “Jiraiya’s got the clan heads cowed for the moment, but everyone knows their compliance isn’t going to last a second past the end of the crisis—and maybe not even that if Jiraiya gives them a reason to doubt his worth as Hokage. Meanwhile, the other villages are sniffing around, looking for weakness. If Jiraiya can keep the wolves from the door long enough for us to finish adapting the ninja forces and military doctrine to skywalkers, we’ll be on solid footing again. Yes, I know, lousy pun, so sue me. But in short, everything’s unstable, the village is constantly teetering on the brink of war, and Akimichi Chōko is an insufferable bitch with a superiority complex the size of the Fire Country.

“Ouch,” Noburi said. “Oh, before I forget, Jiraiya says he owes you a drink because Kagome did something stupid.”

“A drink?” Mari-sensei laughed. “Is that what he called it? To think he cared so much about protecting vulnerable young minds. So what did Kagome do this time?”

“Actually,” Hazō said, “I think you’d better ask Jiraiya to tell you. It’s the kind of thing you want the Hokage privacy seals for. Or at least the kind of security setup I’m guessing you can’t get on short notice.”

“Ah. Well, I guess that’s something to look forward to. All right, I know you’re on the clock, so get going. There’ll be time for us to catch up once the mission’s done, and I've got plenty of quality Inoue Mari insights for you once you have time to train again. For now, here’s a freebie.”

She leaned over and whispered something in Akane’s ear. Akane glanced down at her body and blushed.

“We, uh, should really get going,” Hazō said quickly.

There was a smithy on their resupply list, right? One very far away from here so he’d have to run to make it there without wasting time?

But even with chakra boost, he couldn’t break the sound barrier and escape Mari-sensei’s peals of laughter.

​