Naruto found himself blinking against a bright light. It turned out there was a gas lamp suspended over the kitchen table, and its warm light cast long shadows that danced across the floor. The walls of the kitchen were half-timber, but the cooking area was made of stone to guard against the open flame which Terumi was using to make supper, with the sullen aid of Inari. As the team entered the kitchen, Tazuna beckoned them to join him at the table. “Come, come!” he called. “My daughter made us a feast!”

At his signal, the young woman brought in bowls of cooked rice and sweet-smelling fish in a bed of seaweed. “I must apologize again for the state of our furniture,” she said as she arranged the dishes before them. “I’m afraid the attack on our home has left us ill-equipped to host such honoured guests.” It was not until she pointed it out that Naruto realized they were not seated at an antique Kotatsu at all, but rather an ordinary table which had its wounded legs removed and now rested its body on a thick blanket. Naruto sat down on one of the cushions that replaced the broken chairs, and shifted awkwardly in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“There is no need to apologize,” Sakura assured her. “It’s very traditional to eat like this in the Land of Fire.”

“Yeah, me and my dad eat from the floor all the time,” Naruto said cheeringly. “Of course, the only reason we do it is ‘cause the table keeps getting stacked with dirty dishes we don’t wanna wash, but…” He trailed off as Sakura glared at him. “What?”

The bridge builder leaned forward with barely concealed anticipation, his sharp eyes peeking out over his spectacles as he addressed the team. “So, ah, how was your discussion? You found it to be fruitful, I hope?”

“Oh yes,” Kakashi said as he reached for his plate, pulled down his mask and began eating. “I should think so.” Following his lead, the group began their meal in silence. For a while, the quiet was disturbed only by the distant sounds of nocturnal birds coming from the trees outside, and the gas lantern hanging overhead which whistled softly as it basked the stone and timber kitchen in an orange glow.

“Ah, what I meant to ask was, did you come to a conclusion?”

“Well yes, I dare say we did.” Kakashi gave him a brief look of mock-confusion before returning to his meal once more. With his mask pulled down his face was clearly visible: His smooth jawline and clear skin made him look… well, Naruto was pretty sure it was the kind of face that the girls in his class would have fawned over, the same way they did for Sasuke. He looked to his team mates to gauge their reaction, but their thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

The old bridge builder stared at his plate with a forlorn look, seemingly having lost his appetite. “Look, I’m… I’m sorry I lied to you. I understand if you don’t want to help us anymore; it’s not your fault that we’re in this mess. I shouldn’t have blamed you for what Gato has done to this poor country of ours.”

“Calm down.” Kakashi idly wiped his mouth with his hand towel. “Don’t worry. We talked it over, and we’ve agreed to help you. We’ll make sure you have nothing to fear from Gato, and we’ll even train your people to defend themselves so they can stand up against others like him afterwards.”

“You will?” Tazuna’s eyes lit up, and he hastily rose to give Kakashi a clumsy bow. “Thank you, thank you so much. You have no idea how important this is to us, to the people of this country… if you can just protect me long enough for me to finish building my bridge, I can give them hope again and everything will go back to the way it was before.” An idea seemed to occur to him, then. “When I finish my work, I’ll name my great bridge after you as a token of our gratitude. You have my word!”

“Stop it!” Inari leaped up angrily, speaking for the first time that evening. “Grandpa, why are you bowing and scraping before these ninjas, acting like everything’s going to be all right now? It’s not! Wishes don’t come true just because you believe in them. Can’t you see that everything’s gonna go all wrong?”

“Inari!” his mother cried, mortified. “These people just agreed to risk their lives to help us. You can’t talk about them like that.”

“Forget it,” said Inari. “I’m going to my room to watch the ocean.” He pulled open the sliding door and, without saying another word, strode up the stairs to the second floor of the house. His footsteps could be heard banging up the steps, and then a second door was shut, louder than the one before.

“Seriously,” said Naruto. “What’s up with that kid?”

“I’m sorry about that,” Tazuna sighed. “The fact of the matter is that Inari hasn’t been the same since the incident where he lost his father, all those years ago.”

“His father died?” Sakura sounded concerned, but not surprised.

It was Terumi who replied, though she kept on clearing away the dishes and did not turn her head. “He was a man named Kaiza, a fisherman who came to this village in pursuit of his dreams. Even though they weren’t related, Inari loved him like the father he never had, and I loved him as the man who would become my husband. Even the villagers came to adore him as the hero who saved us all from a terrible flood: He jumped straight into the turbulent waters and, without hesitation, affixed the rope that closed the dam. He used to love saying that he would ‘protect what’s important to him with his own two arms’, which I always thought was terribly banal…”

There was a heaviness in Naruto’s gut, as though he knew what came next. “Then what happened?”

Tazuna answered, his eyes fixed onto the table, though there was nothing left to look at. “Gato set his greedy eyes upon the Land of Waves. He took over the merchant fleet and cut us off from the mainland, letting him raise his prices until we had to spend all our savings just to survive. Seeing us grow more desperate by the day, Kaiza gathered all the bravest villagers and formed a resistance to fight back. A week later Gato accused him of committing acts of sabotage against his company, and the samurai in his service put him to death by cutting off his arms right in front of everybody while we watched.”

Naruto hesitated. He did not want to be the one to say it, but… “Is it possible that Gato was speaking the truth? I mean, not that it justifies what he did or anything, but could it be that Kaiza really did attack his company?” Nobody thinks of themselves as the villain of their own story… do they?

Tazuna wrung his hands. “I don’t know. To this day, I don’t know what Kaiza did, or even if he did anything at all. He never included me in his plans. He probably thought I was too old to be involved…”

There was an awkward silence for a while, none of them seeming to know what to say. At last Sasuke rose from his cushion and moved towards the door in one smooth motion. “As interesting as this was, it’s getting late, and there are other things we need to do tomorrow.” He slid open the door and walked through as he spoke. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m going to get some sleep.”

Kakashi nodded and stood up as well. “Sasuke’s right, we’ll need our energy for tomorrow. Thank you for the meal, Tazuna-san, Terumi-san.”

“Ah…” Tazuna glanced at his daughter, who was still cleaning up, then turned back to Kakashi. “Hold on, I’ll get you some blankets from the storage room. It can get chilly around here at night, and you’ll catch a cold if you’re not used to it.” He followed after Kakashi and the two of them walked out the door as well.

And then there was just Naruto, Sakura and Terumi. The latter was cleaning dishes with a washcloth.

“I met a Shinto Priest once,” the young woman said in conversational tones. “I asked him what happened to my Kaiza, after he died. Whether his spirit was in heaven, and if he was happy there.” She opened a cupboard and placed one of the plates there with a clink. “The priest told me that all living things have chakra inside of them, and that this is what we call the soul. When we die, the chakra goes to the Pure Land, where the value of our soul is measured and our afterlife is decided for us.” She placed a cup in the cabinet with a clunk. “At first I was relieved to learn that Kaiza was not truly gone, but then it struck me – here I was asking a priest about chakra, but what did he really know about it? You ninjas work with chakra all your lives, you mould it and twist it and make it your own… so if anything you would know, wouldn’t you? So please tell me: What really happened to my Kaiza after he died?”

Sakura averted her eyes, as though she did not dare look at her. “It’s true that what happens to our chakra after we die used to be a mystery, and some sages still believe our essence goes up into the heavens. But in Konoha we have the Byakugan and the Sharingan, and other techniques that can we use to perceive chakra. So we know that once you die your chakra radiates outward and is collected by plants and animals, or is gathered as fuel for ninja techniques. It does not go anywhere else.”

“So he’s really gone? His chakra might be in some animal or plant somewhere, but I’ll never get to see Kaiza again?”

“I’m sorry,” Sakura whispered. She really did sound sorry, Naruto reflected. Like it was her personal failing, that made heaven not exist, and not a deep and glaring flaw of reality itself. An unsightly, abominable thing that was too painful to look upon for long… that is what it was.

“My husband really is dead, then.” Terumi put the last of the dishes away, closed the cupboard, and turned around to face the two ninja. Naruto was shocked to see that her eyes were completely dry. “I don’t know what you talked about in that store room, but if you really intend to help us against Gato…” She got down on her knees and bowed low, bending over until her forehead almost touched the floor. “Please. I don’t have any money, and I don’t have any power. I don’t have anything of value to offer you, but please… kill Gato for us. If it’s the last thing you do, even if the world burns down the day after and there is nothing left but ash, please do not let this injustice stand. I beg of you…”

Sakura vainly tried to help her up, to reassure the young woman and dry the tears that were now falling freely, but Naruto could barely see or hear it anymore.

Deep inside of him, a low fire burned.

-o-

Haku’s master sat down on the grey leather couch, the muscles of his mighty frame rippling beneath his pale skin as he did so. There was an intense look in his brown eyes as he leaned forward, his bare arms resting on his knees. When he spoke his voice was a low rumble. “You’re smart, Haku. So tell me… how do I defeat Hatake Kakashi, of the Sharingan eye?”

Haku gave it a moment’s thought, but in the end there was only one answer. “You do not.”

Zabuza’s thin eyebrows narrowed slightly in annoyance. “Explain.”

“Hatake Kakashi is the son of Hatake Sakumo, who was renowned as Konoha’s White Fang until he took his own life.” Haku pulled the Black Book with Kakashi’s entry from his pocket, though there was no real need to do so: He had memorized its contents long ago, to better serve his master. “A natural genius, Hatake Kakashi graduated from the Academy when he was eleven, passed the chūnin exams the next year and was promoted to jōnin at age fourteen. He is said to have acquired the Sharingan by killing his comrade, and used its ability to analyse techniques so expertly that he gained the moniker ‘Kakashi of the thousand-techniques’, though that is most likely exaggeration. After being promoted to Anbu captain he became known as ‘cold blooded Kakashi’, the ‘friend killer’, for his role in hunting down the Leaf’s dissenters who opposed peace and reconciliation after the Third Great War.” Haku returned the Black Book to his pocket. “The rest of his entry reads much the same. Put simply, he is not the kind of opponent you can hope to defeat.”

Zabuza let out a low growl. “And just who do you think you’re speaking to, Haku? I am Momochi Zabuza, the Daemon of the Bloody Mist! Strongest of the greatest generation of the Seven Swordsmen! I can-”

“You cannot. Hatake Kakashi is not merely more skilled than you, he is also faster, more versatile, and has the Sharingan on top of all that. If you were smarter than him it might be possible for you to defeat him regardless, but given that he’s considered to be a genius and you’re not, that seems unlikely.”

“Fine,” said Zabuza, now sounding thoroughly irritated. “I don’t have to take him head on. I am a master in the art of Silent Killing; I’ll sneak up on him while he sleeps, and-”

“We cannot expect such a simple tactic to work,” Haku pointed out. “Hatake Kakashi has a large black-market bounty on his head in every major country, which means he must have lived through countless assassination attempts already. Even if such a stratagem seems to stand on its own merits, you should assume it will fail regardless – unless, of course, you have good reason to believe that you are smarter than all those that came before?”

“Don’t be insolent with me!” A loud bang reverberated through the stones of the fortress as Zabuza kicked at his Executioner’s Blade, spiking his monstrous chakra as he did so. “We both know you’re the clever one, Haku – so tell me already, the strategy you came up with to defeat him!”

The oppressive chakra forced him to his knees, and for a moment Haku was afraid he had gone too far in correcting his master, but then the killing intent receded and he was free to breath once more. “It’s… true that I might be able to devise a way for you to defeat the White Fang,” he replied cautiously. “However, the fact that it is possible does not mean it should be done. The true power of reason is to decide what should be done in the first place: When faced with an insurmountable obstacle, a clever shinobi might be able to devise a technique to destroy it, yet it may be more efficient to go around and avoid it entirely.” He rose to his feet once more. “Please forgive me. If I seem impertinent it’s only because I am doing my best to better serve you, master Zabuza.”

“You are annoying as always,” said Zabuza, though something in his voice did not quite match up with his words. He let go of his sword and leaned back on the couch with a long sigh. “Just tell me what you mean. You’re saying I should refuse Gato and wait for another mission, is that it?”

“Not quite,” said Haku, confidence returning to his voice as he spoke. “The Konoha ninja do not know we are here, which means we have the initiative: We can define the rules of engagement, fight on our own terms, and win in accordance with our true objectives. All we need now is the right information.”

Deep within the evergreen forest, the lights in the old abandoned tower shone for a while longer.

-o-

Inari liked his room. It let him watch the ocean.

There was a time when Inari had liked many things: The items that still lay scattered on his desk were proof of that. Old pencils and paper that had once been used to make childish drawings were stuffed into a corner, mostly forgotten. A packet of fishing hooks, brand new and unused, held a place of honour in the centre. He had been so happy when his father had given them to him, so eager had he been for them to go fishing together. That promise had been broken like so many others, but the hooks remained, to remind him.

Still, he was glad that he could watch the ocean from his room. He liked listening to the forlorn cries of the seagulls, and he liked the smell of the sea that was carried into his room by the damp wind. He never knew why, but for all that the sounds and the smells saddened him, it felt so much more real than the smiles and the voices of his family. They laughed and joked and acted like everything would be all right, and there were times when Inari thought they had forgotten, but then he would catch a glint in his mother’s eye and he knew that it was all a lie.

Of course the ninjas thought him weak. A ninja was not supposed to show emotion: He knew that much from the stories he read, but he had never been able to hide the way he felt. And why should he? The world did not stop being sad if you pretended to smile, and dreams did not come true just because you believed in them. They were the ones who were too stupid to realize that, while he was just being honest with himself… so why would that make him weak?

Inari sat there, crouched atop his desk, gazing at the ocean for so long that time became meaningless. Then his door slid open, and Inari sat bolt upright.

I didn’t hear the stairs. Why didn’t I hear the stairs?

He scrambled beneath his desk, reached for the weapon he kept there and turned and loosed in a single movement. The bolt struck the wooden doorpost with a thunk, and the silhouette in the doorway seemed to recoil in surprise, but that was all the result he got. Inari grasped for a second bolt, but the enemy was in front of him and he realized that the weapon had already been plucked from his hands.

…that’s not fair, he thought, uselessly.

The shadow examined its trophy, fingering it idly. “A crossbow… a mechanism that gathers all your power to make the most of the one moment that decides life or death. For a civilian fighting against a ninja, your choice of weapon is quite correct.” The figure tossed the crossbow back and Inari hurried to catch it. “But you missed.”

Inari clutched the weapon against his body like a shield, or perhaps it was just to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest. He’s not gonna kill me. He would have already, if he wanted to. It was not fair, that he should feel so afraid despite knowing that. When you had nothing left to lose, you should not have to be scared any more, or so it seemed to him. “What – what do you want?”

The figure stalked towards the window, his outline briefly highlighted as rays of moonlight passed over him, only to become a shadow once more. He was not very tall, Inari realized, which contradicted his earlier impression of a living darkness looming over him. But of course, Inari was shorter still.

“Earlier, you told the others that everything would go all wrong,” the voice said smoothly. “I want to know what you intend to do about that.”

“What I plan to-” Inari floundered. “I can’t do anything, I don’t have any power! I’m not a ninja like you. I’m just a kid, so nobody even listens to me.” He stared hard at the silhouette, which seemed far darker than it had any right to be in this moonlight. He was fairly sure he knew who he was talking to at this point, and the anger at being made to feel afraid gave him a queer kind of courage. “Who do you think you are, anyway? You think you can just come to our country and decide everything for us, like we don’t even matter? Whether you belong to Gato or the Leaf, you ninja are all the same!”

“Hm. And what if you’re right?”

Inari blinked at the darkness. “What?”

“What if everything you believe is true?” The shadow gazed at the ocean, uncaring. “Nothing is ever certain in this world, so it’s a possibility you should at least consider. What if you don’t have any power and you can’t trust anyone else to fix your problems, and everything really is going to go all wrong? What would be the logical thing to do, in that case?”

Inari floundered again, struggling to make sense of the stranger’s strange ideas, but this time the anger came back twice as strong. “There’s nothing for me to do! You people think it’s so easy… you all talk and laugh it up without a worry in the world, but you have no idea what it’s like to be weak. When you try to be brave and fight someone stronger than you, you only end up dead! If my dad had just understood that he’d still be alive, but now he’s gone and I’ve got nothing left.”

There was a long silence, long enough for Inari to worry that he had gone too far and the ninja would kill him after all. Then the voice spoke again, in a dry whisper. “It really is amazing, what a little perspective will do for you…” Having said those words, the silhouette turned and walked back to the door.

“Where are you going?” Inari asked uncertainly. “Aren’t you gonna argue with me?”

There was a slight pause. “Why should I? It’s just like you said: You’re only a child, you don’t have any power, and you have nothing of value to protect. You don’t matter in the least.” Then, without saying another word, the shadow stalked out of the room, leaving Inari alone in the darkness.

The door slid shut.