Chapter 179: Bound in Chains​

After the miserable experience that was the elimination meeting, Hazō could feel his soul being salved by the mere presence of Akane as they ate breakfast together. Naturally, they discussed what any young man would discuss when finally reuniting with his girlfriend after a period of separation, which is to say Yamamoto Haru. Noburi, meanwhile, was over on the other side of the mess hall, applying to the man himself all the powers of subtlety that he possessed and Hazō allegedly didn’t.

“He’s a good kid,” Akane said confidently. “Sure, he has his issues, but once you get to know him, it’s obvious that there’s more to him than that. Did you know that he sketches? He’s pretty good at it, too. He loves to capture things changing over time, like animal life cycles and the way landscapes change with the seasons. He showed me some of his sketches after a little—well, more than a little—persuasion.”

A creative hobby? That might be a point of contact. Hazō doubted that Yamamoto would appreciate the fine art of list-crafting, and sealing was not something you discussed with laypeople, but maybe Hazō might be able get something out of his flute-playing experience.

“What about the clan thing, though?” Hazō asked. “That’s going to be the barrier we have to deal with before we can get any communication going, at least between him and the Gōketsu.”

Akane nodded. “What you have to understand is, he wanted to be Hokage. Well, every kid in Leaf wants to be Hokage, but Haru was serious about it. He idolised the Third. Then he grew up a little and it hit him like a hammer to the face that it was never going to happen. The Hokage was always going to be somebody from a major clan, or at least with that level of influence, like Jiraiya. The only way around that would be for Haru to be incredibly talented so everybody acknowledged his power, but again, that wasn’t going to happen when there were other ninja around who were talented and had been receiving clan training since birth. And Haru was the kind of kid who looked around and saw that the same thing was true for all the other common-born ninja like him.”

Hazō got that. He remembered the invisible wall. In another place, another time, that could also have been a point of contact, but not now that Hazō had been adopted into the Gōketsu Clan. In a way, that might make it even worse—“once a clan kid, always a clan kid”, always landing on his feet and being heaped with privilege even if his original clan disowned him and his very village turned on him. In Haru’s eyes, it would be obvious that Hazō’s adoption stemmed from his possession of a Bloodline Limit and his blood ties to the woman who would soon become Mizukage.

“I can’t blame him for being angry,” Hazō said. “Anyone who didn’t grow up in a clan can instantly see how unfair the system is.” He’d made his apologies to Keiko and Noburi, and he knew they were trying to understand his position, but he also knew that they were failing. Would he have to deal with that so they could present Yamamoto with a united front?

“We don’t all react the same way, though,” Akane said. “I’m a common-born ninja as well, but I know that as long as I hold on to the Spirit of Youth and keep doing my best, eventually I’ll reach the place where I most need to be. After all, that’s how I ended up with you.”

Her smile was so radiant it was a mystery how the other ninja weren’t spooked by the room suddenly doubling in brightness.

“Haru isn’t like you and me, though,” she said a second later, the smile dimming to a more thoughtful expression. “He’s constantly living in a world that needs changing, and he can’t do anything about it, and he’s aware of that contradiction 24/7. At this point, I don’t think it’s so much about his personal career being blocked off as it is about the world being wrong for him and everyone like him. It’s not so different to how you think about civilians, only instead of making passionate speeches he bottles it all up until it’s ready to explode.”

Someone like him? That was a very weird idea. Hazō didn't see how Yamamoto was at all like him. Hazō was the diplomat (foot in mouth aside), the friendly, open one even when, in retrospect, other things might have been called for. The one who'd thrown himself headfirst into Mari-sensei's deception training and then never remembered to use it because, deep down, what he wanted was for people to understand and respond to the real him. It was something he'd need to work on before he got properly involved in clan politics, he knew, but he found himself in two minds as to whether he wanted to.

Regardless, he was nothing like Yamamoto. He made himself approachable when he could, and he only intimidated others when he honestly thought it was the best way to approach the situation. He reached out to others, just like he was trying to reach out to Yamamoto now.

Except... Hazō had the blessings of friends who understood, of an ever-greater collection of resources (from a close bond with an elite jōnin to sealing to Gōketsu influence) and of an environment which, if it did not embrace his particular ideals, at least treated them with nothing worse than bemusement. Who was to say that, if he'd never had any of those things, his passion wouldn't have been compressed into helpless anger?

It was an uncomfortable comparison, and it was weird that Akane was in a position to make it after only having interacted with Yamamoto for a matter of weeks (he was pretty sure the two hadn't been friends at the Academy).

Hazō said as much.

Akane shrugged. “I listen. Sakura’s… less social than you might think, especially around someone as intense as Haru, so often it’s just the two of us in the evenings. I listen without telling him that he’s wrong or that he’s right but needs to accept the inevitable, and he appreciates it. Also I’ve managed to get him interested in the Spirit of Youth, because if he’s ever going to break the common sense of the shinobi world, what could be better than a power that transcends common sense altogether?”

Hazō laughed.

Akane gave him a look. “I’m serious, you know. It’s another thing I realised while I was in hospital—the Spirit of Youth isn’t an ideology that you learn and then try as hard as you can to follow. It’s a way of being true to a part of yourself that most people end up rejecting when they grow up. Those people are the ones who define what common sense is. So if you want to beat the average, if you want to live the absolute best life you can, then you have to reject their common sense and substitute your own.

“Those are your own words, the ones that made me run away with you. You told me that entering the Springtime of Youth meant letting go of other people’s dreams for you so that you could start living the ones that came from your own heart. I don’t know if I’ve surpassed ‘Nishino-sensei’ yet, but maybe I’ll be able to get that message across to Haru. It would mean the world to me to be able to do for someone else what you and Rock Lee did for me.”

“Are you sure there’s even room for me to step in?” Hazō asked. “It’s starting to sound like you’ve got everything handled on your own.”

Akane shook her head. “The Spirit of Youth isn’t a magic cure-all, and it’s not a royal road to success. I’ve been following it for half a lifetime, and I’m still in the middle of figuring things out. Haru’s chains are a lot heavier than mine were when I discovered the Spirit of Youth, and he doesn't have a strong role model to follow the way I did. The more ways we can find to break them, the better our odds of setting him free."

-o-​

“That was a most youthful display back there, Gōketsu! I’m sure you’ll be getting a lot more attention now that you’ve shown off your enormous manhood to all the other teams!”

“And hello to you too, Rock Lee,” Hazō said wearily. It was way too early in the morning for this. Of course, it would also have been way too early for Rock Lee in the afternoon, evening, night, or any mysterious extra time zones that might exist on other Paths.

Keiko and Tenten exchanged slow, meaningful nods, which Hazō guessed to mean something like “Prepared for yet another cavalcade of incoherent buffoonery from our respective teams?” and “Gōketsu, that is my life” respectively.

As for Noburi and Neji…

“Couldn’t you have got the other one, Hazō?”

Hazō refrained from facepalming.

“Noburi, that is not how we address a most respected shinobi of the Hyūga Clan whom we’re about to offer a valuable deal.”

“The other one?” Neji asked. “Gōketsu, I have been made aware of your indecent fantasies in regard to my cousin, and I assure you that if you are about to attempt to pursue them in real life, then you’ll soon find out how many non-functional organs you can have while still being nominally alive.”

Noburi opened his mouth to retaliate, but Hazō gave him a threatening look. To his surprise, it more or less worked.

“Fine. Hyūga, in the absence of someone whose presence I can actually stand, we’ve got a deal to offer you. How’d you like to get your hands on all the juicy Chūnin Exam info in the proctors’ possession?”

“This may shock you, Gōketsu, but some of us do not have large empty spaces in the cavities between our ears. Of course I’ve tried to locate the proctors’ information repository using the Byakugan. Do you have any idea how large this sorry excuse for a village is, or how many concealed shinobi facilities of unclear purpose it contains?”

“Why, Hyūga, I always knew you were a bonehead, but I had no idea it was literal. Just as well that my team went and took the trouble to find Proctor HQ ourselves.”

“You see?” Rock Lee asked Keiko. “Neji and your brother complete each other as perfectly as you and Tenten do, to say nothing of me and Hazō. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“When it comes, your destruction will be both unexpected and excruciatingly thorough,” Keiko said in the level, disinterested voice she used when totalling up the inventory.

“It is most unyouthful to strike here,” Tenten added cryptically, tapping her kunai holster.

Hazō and Noburi looked at her blankly while Hyūga and Keiko gave simultaneous approving nods. Hazō began to posit a conspiracy.

“Gōketsu,” Hyūga finally said in a voice which bore much of the weariness of Hazō’s own. “Are you proposing that, in exchange for the location of Proctor HQ and such sundry assistance as may be necessary to investigate it, I share any discoveries with your team, thereby giving us both a significant advantage in the remaining events?”

“That’s the idea,” Hazō said before Noburi could drag Hyūga back into verbal sparring. “I don’t know your range, but if you need to, we’d also be prepared to dig you a tunnel so you can get close without being seen by the guards.”

Hyūga looked uncharacteristically serious. “The amount of information I’d be able to extract in practice would be quite limited compared to what you are doubtless imagining. Also, if we get caught, the risks of reminding Mist that they have Hyūga spying on their territory are significant. They could claim we were after actual state secrets and expel us from the Exam. This is one reason why I have had to be judicious in the Byakugan’s use despite certain imbeciles’ constant prodding.”

“We’re prepared to sweeten the deal,” Hazō said. “We can offer you a few seals that you’d have no other way of getting right now, or we can use some of the time we’ve got until the next event on your behalf…”

Hyūga beckoned his teammates for a private discussion for a couple of minutes.

“Agreed. In exchange for our cooperation, you will arrange a major diversion for us at a place and time we specify, lasting for at least half an hour.”

“A major diversion? Why?”

“That’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

Hyūga was unmistakably up to something, or planning to be up to something. On the other hand, creating a diversion was not in itself dangerous, as long as they were sensible about it. Besides, Hazō was forced to admit that it was a task ideally suited to Team Uplift.

“In addition, you will not share any information gained with others.”

That was more of a sticking point. Hyūga was denying them the use of a very valuable bargaining chip, as well as an opportunity to help other Leaf teams should they decide to do so.

“What about Nara et cetera?”

“Doubly so. Do you have no concept of how dangerous the other elite Leaf teams are? There is a reason that the proctor prioritised ensuring their elimination earlier.”

Team Gōketsu exchanged glances. After a long pause, there was a mutual nod.

But before Hazō could accede, Keiko intervened.

“The non-sharing clause will be mutually binding. You may not share the information either.”

Oh, duh. Hazō couldn’t believe he’d nearly forgot. Otherwise there’d be nothing stopping Team Gai from using the information to negotiate with other teams, selling it whenever they thought it would give them an overall advantage, and thereby also reducing Team Gōketsu’s advantage each time.

Hyūga gave Keiko a hostile look, with no impact whatsoever. “Fine. You help us get the information, we share it, it goes no further. Plus the distraction."

“Deal.”

-o-​

“Out! Out, treacherous deceivers! Go back and tell your secret police masters that Kawarai Taiyoku is a loyal citizen who will not fall for your diabolical entrapments!”

One of goons in Leaf uniforms raised his hands. Taiyoku nearly made a break for the rear exit before he realised that it was meant to be a placating gesture.

“Chill, dude. We’re not with the secret police. Even they aren’t going to be hunting for sympathisers when the freaking Hokage is in town.”

Taiyoku snorted. This wasn’t his first fishing trip.

“You and I both know it’s the perfect time. The Chūnin Exam is always when the village is flooded with spies and all the would-be defectors come out of the woodwork. Well, I’m not one of them, so you can kindly leave my establishment and take your subversive mission with you.”

Another goon sighed. “We’re not trying to offer you a subversive mission… sir. We actually are—“

There was a meaningful cough from one of the others.

“—here on behalf of the Gōketsu Clan. The Hokage’s birthday is coming up, a verifiable fact, and we just want to give him a birthday present. Now if you feel your skills aren’t up to the task, that’s perfectly fine and we’ll go elsewhere, but please don’t assume this request isn’t genuine.”

Taiyoku looked down again at the sketch he’d been presented with: the Hidden Leaf symbol, with the first character of the Hokage’s clan name embedded into it. Only last year, they’d caught and executed four Leaf sympathisers in this district alone, and he still had vivid memories of what they’d done to that one commoner ninja who’d turned out to be a Leaf spy. IF anyone, anyone found out he’d made something like this…

But then there were the bills. The merciless, gruesome bills. The Leaf ninja must have known he was desperate. Why else would they have come to him instead of the snooty silversmiths up in the merchant district, with their fancy licenses, and guild memberships, and regular clients who bought jewellery for people they were actually married to?

The third goon, a girl who’d been silent until now, spoke up.

“Please do not assume us unsympathetic to your situation, sir. It is most laudable that you should hold so steadfastly to your convictions. I hope that said convictions aid you with your business when the current negotiations are complete and every other silversmith is taking advantage of unrestricted Leaf-Mist trade. The Hokage and Leaf’s ruling clan will, of course, have to find a different establishment to patronise for their exotic foreign jewellery needs.”

Aargh. Right in the money pouch.

“That’s nice and all,” Taiyoku said reluctantly, “but negotiations are finicky things. Suppose they go south the way such things usually do, and then I’m left selling things to an enemy of the state?”

“Are you aware that one of the Gōketsu Clan’s core members is the Mizukage’s nephew? Even supposing that she were to prosecute local craftsmen for dealing with Leaf during the Chūnin Exam, in which event she would surely depopulate half the merchant district, she would certainly avoid targeting his business contacts lest the implication of dishonourable behaviour on his part rebound onto her own reputation.”

The Mizukage’s nephew was the Hokage’s son? How did that…? No, best not to think about it. Politics made no sense at the best of times, and a commoner like him sticking his nose into the Mizukage’s business should expect to find it cut off, together with his ears and other valuable but ultimately non-vital parts of his anatomy.

The whole thing could pay off magnificently, or it could be suicide. It would be a major gamble, and the last time Taiyoku had taken a major gamble… well, he was still paying for that casino trip, once a month on the dot for what might end up being the rest of his life.

Then again, that was all the more reason why he needed the money. If this was a real sale, it was going to be a big one. Everyone knew the Hokage had ill-gotten gains coming out of his ears, seized from the helpless populace under flimsy excuses, with those who held out being falsely denounced as enemies of the state and executed for no crime at all. It was just one of many reasons why Leaf was the enemy of all right-thinking people.

“Twenty thousand ryō up front,” he said.

None of the Leaf goons showed any sign of shock, which only confirmed his suspicions about their enviable sickening wealth.

They exchanged glances, then the female one stepped forward.

“A simple piece like this? Why, in Leaf I could find any number of craftsmen capable of making it for two thousand at most.”

“If Leaf craftsmen undercharge for their wares—which of course they do, who’d charge the ruling clan full price?—that’s no concern of mine. Feel free to go back to Leaf and get your order there. Oh, wait, you can’t leave in mid-exam, can you?”

He watched for hints of dismay on her face, but there was only an eerie blankness there.

“If you feel that a mere necklace is so challenging as to require astronomical sums in compensation, this speaks poorly of your skill. Perhaps we should take our business elsewhere.”

“Good luck with that,” Taiyoku smirked, taking another major gamble. “Nobody comes to my shop unless they have nowhere else they can go. I’m betting any ‘reputable’ jeweller in Mist has already refused to touch this little treason bomb.”

The goon shrugged. “We are not particularly set on the necklace. If we are unable to obtain a reasonable price here—say, four thousand ryō, in recognition of your complicated circumstances—we will simply abandon it in favour of a different kind of present.”

“Twelve thousand, and I’ll throw in a carved box for the thing.”

The goon fixed him with the cool stare of a woman who knew the exact day and hour of his death.

“Six thousand. Final offer.”

Six thousand. Not bad, truth be told. Not the jackpot he’d been hoping for, but a sale was a sale, assuming this really wasn’t a secret test that would end with a public execution.

“Done. Pay up.”

The goon shook her head. “Payment on delivery.”

He locked gazes with her, but it was a futile endeavour from the start. With that demeanour, she was probably Leaf T&I.

“Fine,” he growled a second later. “Come back in two weeks and I’ll have it ready for you.”

The goons exchanged alarmed glances at this.

“Two weeks?”

Yes, it was as Taiyoku had suspected. Ruling clan children in their ivory towers, knowing nothing of the effort the common folk went to in order to live their lives.

“We require it by the tenth.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The tenth. We will be prepared to provide reasonable compensation for the shortened deadline.”

“The tenth,” Taiyoku repeated slowly. “A present worthy of a Kage by the tenth.” These people couldn’t ever have done a day’s work in their lives. He was almost tempted to laugh at them and kick them out of the shop (the fact that they were ninja who could probably break him in half with their little finger nothwithstanding). Almost. But then he remembered that it was going to be time for the next payment soon.

“Fifteen thousand,” he said after taking a moment to figure out whether it was possible at all. “Half now, half on delivery.”

“I remind you that we are under no—“

“You’ve left your shopping until the last minute, haven’t you? I can tell you now that nobody is going to make any personalised gift worth a damn for you in time for that kind of deadline, even if wasn’t borderline treasonous. Assuming I’m kind enough to take this on, that’s no food or sleep for me for the next three days.”

“Fifteen thousand,” one of the other goons said, apparently to himself. “That’s a lot of seals.”

“I don't accept chakra beast parts in payment. Not after what happened to poor Kinshirō.”

"That wasn't—never mind. We'll take it."

“Good. Now hand over the money and get out. I need to start work straight away.”

Taiyoku started thinking about the proportions for the necklace’s silver chain (and resisting the temptation to make it tight enough to strangle the Hokage), even as his imagination painted iron ones around his hands and feet.

-o-​

Sunset approached rapidly, and Team Gōketsu, currently disguised as Leaf Team Fifteen, were on their way to meet up with Team Gai. So far the day had passed without ambushes, deadly ninja battles or proctors stopping them to inform them that they had broken some massive rule and had to be penalised, though several times they'd felt somebody watching them (by now a sensation as familiar as breathing). At present, Hazō and Noburi were discussing anti-Yamamoto (pro-Yamamoto?) strategy, undermined by the fact that Yamamoto had been coldly professional towards Noburi throughout their conversation. Noburi thought he might have been expecting some kind of manipulation attempt, and therefore taken care to give away nothing.

The point at which problems arose was when the team reached a condemned area on the outskirts of Mist, a sparsely populated area known to Mist ninja (and only to Mist ninja) as an ideal rendezvous spot for shinobi up to no good. Being more familiar with the terrain, they had inevitably arrived early, while Team Gai was not yet anywhere to be seen.

“Three people,” Keiko said under her breath. “Directly behind us.”

The team whirled around instantly to find three ninja in ready stances. One held kunai, another a sword lifted over her head, and a third had his hands together in a pre-ninjutsu position.

“Drop your disguises," the leader snarled. "Now.”

The original Team Fifteen looked one step away from murder.

Author's Note: You reached your yakuza contact, only to learn that he had just been about to send a messenger for you. The Oyabun would appreciate it if you were to grant him the pleasure of your company in his office tomorrow at sunset. He specified wanting to meet all three of you.

After some discussion, you’ve decided that an exotic Seventh Path object would make an excellent gift. Alcohol is too predictable. A Leaf book could be interesting and would be a reminder of your noteworthy origins, but you’re not exactly in a convenient position to get any. On the other hand, a pangolin artwork would possess great symbolic value, being unique, intriguing, and a reminder of your extraordinary powers.

Noburi thinks the yakuza will want the use of Leaf’s diplomatic abilities to secure some kind of advantage in the new status quo the two Kage are hashing out. Helpful legislation, maybe, or something that will give them leverage in dealing with their Fire counterparts (with whom they’re almost certainly in touch after at least eighty years of coexistence and however many more years yakuza were around for before that). Or it could simply be an introductory meeting to secure goodwill with the clan and get the team’s measure.

Keiko thinks the yakuza will want the use of Jiraiya’s spy network for something they are unable or unwilling to hire Mist ninja for, whether because Jiraiya’s network can do things Mist’s can’t or because there’s something they don’t want to be traceable back to them via Mist contacts. It could even just be a test to establish how well it performs, so as to know whether they can rely on it for future deals.

You have yet to commiserate with Shikamaru. You think he looks slightly more annoyed at the world than before, but any change in his demeanour is eclipsed by Ino's barely-suppressed rage.