Chapter Text
Hatake Kakashi crouched in front of his student. "Hikari-chan, if you need a way out, you signal sensei. Okay?" He nodded at Masaru. "I'll get both of you out."
She nodded, and his gaze caught on the shimmering tears she'd painted on her face. What did it mean that her clan wore their grief so openly? What did it mean that she chose to paint them on, knowing that shinobi would try to exploit the vulnerability?
“Okay, Kakashi-sensei.”
"Hatake-san," Masaru cut in. "Are we discussing Konoha's rebuilding today? We thought that'd take precedence over negotations with Suna.”
He nodded. "Correct. Suna's Kazekage is dead, and they are requesting we give back Kankuro and Gaara. It will take time for them to push the issue. Taking stock of the damage is the most urgent matter. Today, the council... ex-council," he corrected himself, "will meet with the clan heads and devise a plan. After that, the heads of divisions and the civilian council will be called in as needed."
“Do you know where Naruto-kun, Shika, and Sasuke-kun are, Kakashi-sensei?"
He cocked his head. Why was Hikari asking about Naruto first?
"I'm here, dattebayo!"
He glanced back, and the clone accompanying Naruto puffed out. Kakashi sighed when he got the memories back. Naruto didn't want to take time off. Before the invasion, he’d thought of assigning him to the hospital on D-ranks. Seeing people slowly heal and rebuild their lives with new scars and pain would teach Naruto that damage lasted for other people. Without that lesson, Naruto would never be a good leader. But now, with the Sandaime's death, he wasn't sure the lesson would combine well with grief. His clone hadn’t known either, and had decided that the original could deal with it.
"Naruto-kun, I am sorry you lost one of your precious people." Hikari said, staring into blue eyes.
The short boy swallowed roughly and numbly accepted the jacket she held out. It was orange with embroidered black flames. It was ceremonial, while holding the same style Naruto favored.
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. Give someone something, and they'd be more willing to do you a favor.
"I... Thank you." Naruto's voice was small.
"You're welcome."
When he remained frozen, Kakashi helped the blond switch out jackets.
The jounin commander joined their little circle and gestured that they should head in.
"Shikaku-dono," Hikari called before they headed in. "The kyokuba-dan counts on your full support going forward."
If the Nara clan head was startled by the near order, he didn't show it. His nod was simple, and Kaskashi found that his choice was simple, too. Hikari wanted something from Naruto, and Sasuke, and Shikamaru. He'd stay and see what he could offer her.
"Naruto, wait for Sasuke and my clone here. Once you're together, find Shikamaru. Alright?" Kakashi ordered.
"Yes!"
He patted his back and followed Hikari's entourage in.
A large round table was set in the center of the room, and people rose from their seats to greet Shikaku and nod at Hikari. Kakashi situated himself where he had a vantage point of the whole room.
"Greetings. I am Sakasu Hikari. Masaru-san and I will speak for the kyokuba-dan while our leaders travel to and from the capital. We look foward to working with you to make Konoha shine bright once more." She gave a very small bow and took her seat. Masaru stood behind her.
"Hikari-chan," Homura started. "We are thankful for your mother's cooperation and financial aid. At this time, we haven't done anything that affects the kyokuba-dan. We’ll make sure to update you when we do. Allowing you to stay will only bore you, so- "
"Allowing us to stay?” Hikari murmur interrupted the elder.
"Hikari-chan -"
"You may call me Hikari-hime, or you may not call on me at all."
Silence.
No one would dare further insult, not when Hikari had all but threatened to walk away, leaving them with Tsunade's full debt.
Underneath his mask, Kakashi’s pinched lips relaxed. He'd been worried that Hikari wouldn't be prepared for the aggressiveness of shinobi politics. They were all soldiers, bred and blooded. If she didn't establish herself and the kyokuba-dan as pieces not to be played with, they'd be pushed and pulled to the whims of the others.
"Hikari-hime," Ututane picked up. "You understand, of course, that we need these meetings to be as efficient as possible, every member's contribution indispensable."
Since the elders couldn't make the kyokuba-dan leave the talks, they'd try to squeeze as much as they could out of them. As if they hadn’t already helped so much by taking on half of Tsunade’s debt.
"Of course, Ututane-san. I'll start." She stood up and walked around the table, addressing the whole room as her audience. "Once upon a time, there were two boys who carried the heavy burdens of leadership, love, and loss. Although from different families, they shared a dream: a village where their brothers, families, and clans could live happily in peace. Such a place had to be strong, so they brought in the fiercest clans." She made eye-contact with each of the clan heads. "But there was still something missing, something that Konoha needed." She paused, creating suspense. Meanwhile, Masaru had finished up taping one of the walls in giant blank paper.
"What was missing, Hikari-hime?" Inoichi asked, not unkindly.
"Peace and happiness. Throughout recorded history, many have sought out happiness. Few have sought to answer what makes humans happy. One man sought to understand how we can achieve happiness."
Masaru drew out a pyramid as tall as he was and partitioned it horizontally.
"To reach happiness, five levels must be fulfilled: physiological needs, safety, belonging, esteem, and self-actualization. The kyokuba-dan believes that we, the people seated at this table, have the responsibility and privilege of facilitating the first levels for Konoha's citizens. In order:
Physiological needs - We offer our knowledge on building temporary structures. A main tent at the stadium will host those who’ve lost their homes. In smaller tents, placed at your discretion, shinobi and civilians working in re-construction will find food, shade, and clothing throughout the day. Come autumn, our lawyers will work with the council to ensure the renewal of Konoha’s grain imports contracts.
Safety - Every business owned or affiliated with the kyokuba-dan will open positions for temporary employment. Also, should Konoha’s inventory of medicine dwindle, we will assist in contacting the capital’s providers and ensuring there's no price increase.
Belonging - Since the building and maintenance of the tents will be a tri-lateral effort, our citizens will have a daily reminder that they belong to a community that cares for them. They will also know that they are helping Konoha be great once again.
Esteem - We will leave the Gondaime Hokage and this council the privilege of recognizing and praising everyone's efforts. Her ceremony should be a celebration, an inflection point towards recovery and peace. If requested, we will aid in planning the event."
Kakashi was pleased. Hikari had managed to give a frame large and simple enough that they could all work within it.
Work towards…happiness.
Before today, Kakashi would have scoffed at the whimsical aim. But the steps were practical. Food, shelter, sleep, clothing. Security, employment, health. Connection and reward. Those were all topics that would have been discussed today without Hikari’s input, but now they weren’t just items on a list. They were a part of something bigger.
Kakashi couldn’t remember a time when he was happy. Maybe when his sensei and team was alive? But he couldn’t remember feeling happy. He’d been frustrated, determined to do better than his father, quietly furious. Not content. Could people like him help others be happy? Could he be happy, even if he'd painted his hands red to defend the village?
He could see the beginning of that same question in the faces of each clan head as they looked at a girl with tears shimmering on her face and strong shoulders. If Hikari was allowed to grow into herself, she'd be the type of leader that inspired others to reach for far more than they ever believed themselves capable of.
He straightened from his slouch. He was her sensei. He'd teach her how to keep herself alive until then.
Kakashi would keep watch and ensure she made it.
Yes, he’d keep watch.
---
He kept watch as Hikari gave Naruto a map and an illustrated guide on structural damage. He listened to the bizarre but effective plan: Naruto's clones would each scout one neighborhood. Not being architects or civil engineers, they’d mistake some structural damages as superficial and cosmetic abuses as devastating trauma. But since each would look at only one area, they wouldn't learn and improve. The mistakes would be uniform - and the same as the original Naruto would be making with a master architect from the kyokuba-dan. The result would be a preliminary report of the state of Konoha in record time.
Kakashi had seen Naruto’s brow tighten in confusion, and he'd been ready sure to explain to Naruto why his job was important and only he could do it. But Naruto’d only looked at Hikari before nodding and going to sit with the architect. Kakashi's proud smile was carefully hidden behind his mask, so he creased his eyes.
He kept watch as Shikaku called for Shikamaru and Sasuke. Danzo had declared that genin teams would organize the tents' set up ‘since it was a waste of resources to have chunin doing something that simple’. Kakashi followed the genin when Hikari herded them into a room with some privacy.
"Sasuke-kun, Shika... I need you.” She took a deep breath. “The tents are the heart of the reconstruction. They are what people will see daily, constantly, for a couple of months. It is what they will remember years from now. Shinobi, civilians, and the kyokuba-dan all need to work together. But the kyokuba-dan's contribution needs to be the greatest, and it needs to be seen by everyone. Please. That’s the most important part. We sustained the least damage. People need to see us pour our time and resources and hearts into building back Konoha. The tents will keep my family safe instead of hated."
Sasuke’s had lit up with fire, and Kakashi remembered how the Uchiha's old compound had been mostly untouched by the Nine Tails. They’d been relocated the same year, driven out of their great lands by hateful sneers and glares. He patted Sasuke’s hair, trying to tame the back even though it was a lost cause. His student’s hands unclenched, but he still vibrated with energy. He gripped the nape of his neck until the boy met his eyes. Kakashi then eye-smiled slowly, calmly. Puppies followed by example, and a long hunt required patience. “I’m sure you’ll raise the prettiest tents, Sasuke-kun.”
---
Nara Shikamaru started jogging when he finally saw Hikari and Masaru. He had to speak to her. Yesterday, and somehow the invasion had been just yesterday, she’d hesitated before following Sasuke. She’d been worried, and he’d told her the Nara would protect the kyokuba-dan. And they had. Ami was still dead.
And Hikari’s parents were gone, which meant she was their leader.
Shikamaru would be here for her. He'd always be there. And to know how he could be there, he first needed to know if she blamed him for not guaranteeing her family's safety. He blamed himself.
She’d asked for his help with the tents, which meant hope. She still trusted him, relied on him. Those tents would be the most organized, cohesive, and harmonious project to ever be.
"Hikari!" He called out. Masaru stopped, but Shikamaru’s eyes were trained only on Hikari. "May we speak? Please?"
Masaru took a step forward. "Nara-san - "
"Yes." Hikari interrupted, a hand on Masaru's forearm. "Thank you, senpai. I'll rejoin you in a moment."
And then they were alone, with only the trees and stars for company.
"Did you know, Shika?"
Shikamaru frowned. What? They'd found out at the same time. He'd been there when Masaru told Hikari of Ami's death.
"The invasion."
Oh. "I... I knew it was a possible for Orochimaru to try something."
"Then why didn't I?" Her voice was small.
"It doesn’t make sense!" The words exploded out of him. He’d run the scenarios. "Orochimaru was able to sneak into the Forest of Death. If he’d wanted to lay siege to Konoha or kill the Hokage, that was the time to do it. He could have taken us clan heirs hostage without anyone noticing. That’d have compromised every major clan, and Konoha wouldn’t have had a plan ready. But he didn’t. He attacked Sasuke and left. Left us time to prepare, to question Kabuto and his team and sensei, to call back Jiraiya and have better-trained guards at the gate. He’s smart, so it only made sense if the only thing he wanted, he already got: marking Sasuke. I thought he could use the third exam to sneak back in, try his hand at kidnapping him, like Kumo did with Hinata.”
“And Sand? Your dad asked mom about Suna. Did you suspect they’d try to invade?”
“No.” And that grated on his nerves. He was supposed to know, supposed to plan, supposed to protect her. He hadn’t pieced it together. “Sand had seen our security increase in the last month. They were only a four-man squad, with only one jounin. Without Gaara being a jinchuriki, attacking made no sense: they’d had lost, and Konoha would have taken their future Kazekage hostage.” He took a deep breath. “I never thought of an alliance between Sound and Sand. It doesn't make sense! I know I've said that, but it would have been easier to attack in the Second Task, while Orochimaru distracted everyone by cursing Sasuke. The Sand sibling could have taken us hostage, leaving the rest of the Sand nin to break havoc. Konoha would have been forced to fight two fronts. It... just doesn’t make sense to me, Hikari. I didn’t keep you in the dark on purpose, I promise."
Hikari closed her eyes.
He hesitated. “My dad told your mom we were wary of Orochimaru.”
She shook her head. “She didn’t tell me. Why didn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know.” His hand brushed hers, and she clutched it. They stayed like that.
"Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, Shika.”
The night fell down upon them.
“My parents are gone," she whispered. As if by not speaking too loud, it would make it less real. "But they're coming back, right, Shika?”
He opened his mouth and closed it. After a while, he finally replied. “We’ll wait for them, and they’ll do their best to come back to you, Hikari.”
“Arata hates me.”
He startled, dropping her hand. He hastened to pick it back up. “What?”
“He’s so angry, and he’s blaming shinobi. He's blaming me because I cracked the gates a sliver. And everything I’m doing is going to make him hate me more, because I’m opening the gates even more. But I really think, Shika, that it is the only way my family can be happy. That we can be accepted. Konoha needs to be more than just a place where our home is, or else people will always treat us like strangers. And I believe all of Konoha would be happier and better if all groups shared our uniqueness with one another.”
"I believe you, Hikari. I believe in your dream. How can I help you?"
"The tents. If that goes well, most should follow. I won't have any visibility there, so I need you to tell me how is it going. You know the kyokuba-dan, so please tell me if the people assigned are the correct ones, if something more should be done, if it should be done differently... That sort of thing. We can only change if we know that change is needed."
"Consider it done, Hikari."
"Tonight is Ami's ceremony." She choked up. "Can you please come? Please, ask your family to wear white."
---
At midnight, as Shikamaru swung alone in his hammock, he remembered Hikari's words, spoken in between Ami's favorite songs.
"The one who knew her best will speak first. It’s going to be Ami's parents and then her friends, but generally it'd be her person. She was just... too small to have met and recognized the one who would hold her truths." She'd turned to him, and behind the shimmer of tears, her eyes had been steady and full of warmth. "You are my person, Shika. I am myself with you, fully and truly. You know me, and I will never hide from you."
"I love you." He'd held her gaze, letting her see that his declaration was as true and solemn.
"I love you, too."
As he remembered the way she fit against him, face pressed to his chest and his arms around her, he vowed this wouldn't be the last time she said those words to him. Someday, they'd mean the same as his.
---
Hatake Kakashi kept watch as the tents rose with its fabrics painted in vibrant hues. He kept watch as soft melodies were played after dark, Akimichi served warm dinner, and Nara restocked the tents' first aid kits.
He kept watch as Yamanaka ordered prioritized certain D-ranks to make sure homes were refilled and the tents didn't overflow. He kept watch as kyokuba-dan artists painted over cracks and tears after shinobi had made sure the houses were stable.
He kept watch as Hikari and Masaru paired civilians with businesses, and those businesses slowly opened up. The streets gradually saw more people strolling and walking instead of running and worrying. Children's voices spread through public spaces, as bright as the clothes they'd gotten from the donations pile in tents.
Between hurrying through A-rank courier missions to the borders of Fire, the weeks went by - and Konoha started to heal.
He kept watch as Hikari tired more and more. She looked perfectly-put-together with her beautiful clothes and painted face, her poised gestures and steady voice. But Kakashi could see the small tells. The long mornings at the Tower and even longer evenings in which she reconvened back with the kyokuba-dan’s experts were taking a toll on her. As Sasuke and Shikamaru had thrown themselves fully into the tents’ operation, and Kakashi was called onto the borders as a highly-skilled and highly-recognizable jounin, Masaru was the only steady presence by her side. And Kotone's student was just as tired, just as overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility.
Kakashi was still at the outposts when he got the mission from Shikaku. The Wind kyokuba-dan was requesting a meeting.
Konoha still didn’t have a Hokage.
---
Sakasu Hikari’s parents weren’t back. She took a deep breath. Yet. And they weren’t meant to be back. She shouldn’t be worrying. Not yet. At civilian speed, the trip to the capital took some time, and then there was no telling how long the meetings with the Daimyo would last.
She put her head on the desk, letting the cold surface bite at her skin. The heads of arts and experts of disciplines had headed out already. They were satisfied with both plans of action. It was only Masaru, Ume, and she. Ume was a silent spectator, while Masaru and she chose which melody they’d dance to.
She tilted her head and opened one eye. Masaru had pulled his chair back and laid stretched across it, facing up to the ceiling.
Newfound fondness made her get out of her chair to pour all of them some water.
“Thank you,” he rasped.
She nodded and, instead of sitting, laid down on the floor.
“It still feels weird.” At her hum, he continued. “To know that they’ll arrive tomorrow and we’ll greet them at the Tower, instead of here.”
“We don’t want them here,” she reminded him.
“I know, but two kuyokuba-dans meeting… in a shinobi office.”
She huffed a breath out. “It sounds like the start of a bad joke.” Or a tragedy, the ghost of the Water kyokuba-dan whispered against her ear. She shifted to get away from the sensation. “Masaru-senpai? We need to decide.”
“You know which route I favor.”
“And you know I prefer the other.”
“And that’s why we are still here, at an impass.” The words were steady, and patient. It made Hikari relax. They were both more than ready to head to bed, but they'd stay here and stay civil as long as they needed.
“I know my choice is harder to pull off. But the reward is bigger, and… And it’s for Ami. It’s for her, and for the little boy who went to watch the matches; and for the shinobi who fought and lost; and for the civilians who were severely injured or killed before they managed to evacuate. It’s for us. For…” Her breath hitched. “For all of us who are left behind with this… this horrible and huge hole.”
“For all of us who loved. For all of us who lost.”
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
“It’s not that I disagree, Hikari-chan. I want that. I want them to pay. I want them to pay the biggest fee I can lay upon them.” Masaru was keeping his voice level, but she could feel the anger simmering beneath. “But that’s just it. If we shoot too far, and it doesn’t land, we get nothing. Better to aim for a smaller amount, and be certain to strike true.”
“No.”
He smiled sadly and gestured around them. As if to repeat, and that’s why we’re still here.
“I get what you’re saying. Letting them go without anything makes me feel sick, but… the risk is worth it.”
He didn’t say anyhting.
“Please.” She needed this. It was selfish, but she needed this to be able to face herself in the mirror. She had to go for it. Shikaku had tried to steer her away from the reports, but she’d seen enough. She had to do this, for Ami. For the little boy and his shinobi dad, both with wild curls framing their faces, who'd attended the matches. For the dozen shinobi whose names would be carved on the Memorial Stone. For the many civilians who were injured, some of which were so severely that they’d never recover. For the families in mourning. For those who had lost their homes. For everyone, including herself, who’d had their sense of safety and home violated with blood.
“Hikari-chan, you’re my hime. You’re the one I want to follow, the one whose dreams I choose to share.”
“You don’t like my dreams. You were one of the loudest voices saying we were safer closed off.”
“I was,” he acknowledged. “And then people smarter and more skilled than me disagreed. And we opened our doors.”
Hikari tilted her face back. The ceiling was made of gypsum, shaped like a flower with lights along the edges of the petals. It was pretty, just like Masaru's words. She hoped they weren't as hollow as the flower above them.
“We opened our doors, Hikari-hime, and I got to see a little Nara boy filled with curiosity roam our libraries and gyms. I got to see his entire family, awe-struck at your performance. I got to see our kids run in Konoha’s playground and play with new friends and friends of their new friends.”
Her lips quirked a little, too tired to form an actual smile.
“I had the opportunity to look at your dream, Hikari-chan, and share your hope. I want it, too.”
She waited for the ‘but’, because there was always a ‘but’.
“You are a Sakasu. You are a dreamer. It’s your job to dream, big and small. And it’s my job to ground you, to make you see when the world has not been changed enough for your dream. I support your big dream, Hikari, I don't support this plan. It's too far out of reach. This time, we have to plan for less than we want.”
No. She refused to believe it was impossible. If they could just skew the conversation a little, make Suna blame the Wind kyokuba-dan, then they could demand more. The experts had agreed. The only one she had to convince was Masaru. Or… just get him to cooperate.
“Name your price.”
“What?”
“Name your price, Masaru-senpai.”
Ume's face turned towards them, suddenly interested. Hikari ignored her.
Masaru was quietly contemplating. “I want a secret, one you’ve shared with no one. One you have no intentions of telling anyone, ever.”
Hikari swallowed, and thought about it. Time stretched.
She cleared her throat and went to her feet.
Masaru watched her, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. A predator who knew he’d won.
Hikari didn’t care. She had a bigger battle. She approached his chair from behind and leaned down, face inches from him. Her hair was a curtain that didn’t let Ume see.
“I hate it,” she whispered.
Her hand found his thigh, and drew: a vertical line, then a small diagonal to the left and another to the right. Symmetric. The first part was done: fire. A horizontal line that touched the bottom of the first line. Then a tail, from the line and down to the left. Another tail, down and to the right. The second part, the shape of legs. A person walking around with a fire. A torchbearer. A vessel of light.
‘Hikari.’
Her name.
She was meant to be a beacon of light, the hope in the darkness, a trailblazer.
Wanderers traveled by the light of the sun and the shine of the moon. The kyokuba-dan knew to look at the stars because, no matter how lost you were, the'd lead you home.
Lighthouses guided sailors safely to shore.
But in the midst of total darkness, light could also kill.
So focused on keeping your eyes on the light, so filled with hope, you failed to see the cliff.
The fall, into the void.
She could lead to a better world… or to ruin. It wasn’t mutually exclusive, either. She could be guiding the kyokuba-dan to a better place and lose them in the way.
It was name fit to a leader of the arts and of Fire. It was a name that embodied her parents’ love and hope.
She hated it.
She feared it.
She was a coward, scared of her even own name.
—
Hikari sat at the river's shore near where the Wind kyokuba-dan was housed. The sun hadn't come out yet, and the water was undisturbed. She took off her shoes and put one toe in, watching the ripples form and spread outwards. Every choice had consequences.
The presence that had been watching her finally approached. Hikari didn't turn to face the figure as it took a seat in the log next to her. Hikari's heartbeat felt like a war drum inside of her chest. She moved her foot lazily through the water.
"My brothers?" Temari of Suna asked.
"Alive. Better than the last time you saw them."
She could feel the blonde relax slightly next to her. Hikari took it as her cue to turn towards her. Green eyes were framed by eyebags, and the fan was missing.
"They received medical care, Suna-hime." Before the blonde could relax, she added. "They spent some more time with Gaara-san."
Temari nodded jerkily, visibly restraining from asking what they'd done to her younger brother. After a long time, she remarked. "You look different."
Hikari glanced down at her simple white dress, as if only now taking notice of it. Her makeup rounded out her features, making her look younger, and her hair was pulled back into a single braid. Innocent, vulnerable, without artifices, open, alone.
"A lot has changed," she murmured.
"And your hitaiate?"
"I haven't worn it since..." See? I am no threat.
Temari's shoulders dropped. "Everything has changed." The older girl repeated.
"It has. Should I call you Temari-sama?" Are you going to be Kage?
The blonde shook her head.
Hikari made her eyes wide and confused. "I thought the seat was hereditary, and you're the best fit."
Temari startled, as if no one had told her she could one day be Kage. Hikari knew Suna's leadership was patriarchal, but who did Suna actually have? Kankuro was weaker and had zero diplomatics skills. Gaara's seal had been fixed by Konoha... who was to say they didn't tamper with it while they were at it? Suna didn't have the fuinjutsu skills to check. "Well... the council will be calling the shots for now."
Hikari furrowed her brows, as though it didn't make sense to her instead of Temari confirming what they'd already guessed. "Isn't Yota-san part of your council? But... your kyokuba-dan... well, if you decide to trust them now... they'll do better in the future... I guess." She made a show of chewing her lip and then clearing her face. "I guess that's good? I mean, I'm glad Yota-sama is once more working towards the same goals as you."
Unlike Hikari's family who functioned in a unit, the Wind kyokuba-dan was spread out in small nomadic tribes. They all traded, and they all performed, but they had their own routes that converged at multiple oasis. The heads of the caravans made up the Wind kyokuba-dan council, with an inner circle composed of three: an Elder, Yota, and the heir. Past, present, and future. Present always had the final say. Those who control the present, control the past and those that control the past control the future.
Together, they represented the circus in front of Suna's Kage and Wind’s Daimyo. They were supposed to ensure the scale didn't tip too far into either’s favor.
Instead, they'd let the Wind Daimyo's resentment grow and fester. Once He preferred Konoha for His missions, the rot spread outwards. Suna's coffers dried up when no one commissioned them, and they'd had to use the Kage's gold release to make ends meet.
Their kyokuba-dan hadn't lifted a finger, hadn't spoken a word, hadn't attempted to mend the bridge. They hadn't done their job. Until Suna was so desperate as to convince themselves that the best way - or the only way - was war.
Just as the Wind kyokuba-dan had forgotten their duty, it seemed so had Suna. They hadn't exerted pressure on the artists to do their job, and they didn't seem to blame them now. Not if Yota was still trusted enough to keep his spot at the shinobi council.
Temari could very well change the tone.
Once upon a time in the desert, the shinobi and kyokuba-dan had been close. Artist puppeteers taught shinobi, and shinobi retired into performers. Hikari wanted them to regain that closeness - and for Suna to hold their kyokuba-dan responsible. In today's meeting, Fire would demand retribution for the damage caused. The Wind kyokuba-dan would, of course, try to pay as little as they could. If Suna blamed them for the invasion, though, they'd have less wiggle room. And if Suna's shinobi kept a close eye on the kyokuba-dan going forward, that was to Fire's benefit. Not only would they be kept in line, but Hikari's family would have a closer view at Suna's politics. The information they'd managed to pass on to Shikaku had been valuable, but it could have been richer. If Wind's kyokuba-dan entwined once more with Suna's shinobi, they'd know far more. And it'd be one step closer to Hikari's own dreams of art mixed with chakra across all nations.
"Yota-sama has always been Suna's ally." Temari defended.
Hikari let the silence stretch until it made the other uncomfortable.
Taking refuge in formality, Temari continued. "Unfortunately, Yota-sama no longer has the Daimyo's ear and he was unable to help Suna."
"I'm sorry his incompetence has caused us both so much harm, Temari-san." Her tone was mournful to make up for the words' harshness. "If only... then this all could have been avoided."
It was perfect for Suna: a scapegoat handed in a silver platter. Someone richer to make reparations. She'd said enough.
"By your leave, Suna-hime." Hikari stood up and left.
Both of them had only a couple of hours until the meeting.
If Temari acted fast, she could get a shinobi from the council to sit at the meeting, and ensure that the Wind kyokuba-dan accepted responsibility for most of the damage.
When Hikari got to the tower, Masaru had already fetched Shikaku, who'd in turn summoned the clan heads. She took care to explain that they couldn't be sure that they'd get their requests, but she also told them this was going to be the biggest shot they all had at any real reparations. They couldn't demand a lot from Suna. They didn't have any resources to give away, and anything they did have, Konoha couldn't demand. Taking Gaara, land, or shinobi with kekkai genkai would incite war with other countries.
The Wind kyokuba-dan had far more resources.
By the time they had to start prepping the stage, Masaru and she had a list. Knowledge and samples of the deathstalker scorpion's posion was a priority, since the Nara had found it could potentially be used to locate tumors. Next were tessen katas. An alright substitute would be the yucca plant and the yucca moths. Iron ore, dyes, salt, ivory, beads, copper, spices, makeup, fabrics, clay, and tents made of goat hair. All of it ranked lower than any summon contract they may be willing to give up be it hyena, meerkat, tarantula, dung beetle, jerboa, scorpion, or roadrunner.
They had a list, she'd done her best to set up the scene. Now they just had to prep the stage.
---
Hatake Kakashi watched Hikari from the doorway. He'd known she was a princess, made so by the circus' political importance in their Land. But, apart from her coming of age ceremony, he hadn't seen her amidst what all that implied. Even these last weeks, colored tears barely distracted from the simple silhouettes. He hadn't realized how much the wardrobe had been tailored to fit shinobi practicalities and her minor role.
Now, Hikari's outfit was... big. A full circle skirt tapered in at the waist and flowed out again to the powerful shoulders of a closed jacket. The rigid lines were broken by the jacket's flowing sleeves, which drew great semi-circles when she moved her arms. They cuffed at the wrist and flowed seamlessly into sleek gloves. The whole set had white and gold flames embroidered into the fabric. And then there was the... Kakashi didn't know what it was exactly. It wasn't a delicate tiara, or a majestic crown. It was a glorious headpiece. Metal had been twisted into a bouquet of roses tipped with rubies and pearls. It stretched both up and to the sides, the width of her entire shoulders in a semi-circle. From the sides, strings of gold dripped down, almost brushing the shoulders. Crimson nails, lips, and tears completed the ensemble.
"We had agreed only you would be present, Shikaku-dono. We really can’t justify one more." Masaru argued seated beside Hikari. His outfit was less extravagant in both size and jewels but no less dramatic. His face was covered with a veil so thin that it was only noticed by the sheen it took when light hit it just right - and by the hem of garnets resting at his collarbones.
"I insist." Kakashi cut in.
"Kakashi-sensei!"
Warmth spread through him as Hikari, in all her fine jewelry and extra layer of sadness, sprang up and met him with a hug. She was careful to keep her forehead on his vest instead of turning, which he appreciated. He didn't want to go to the Pure Lands skewered by gold flowers.
"Hi, Hikari-chan." Since he couldn't pat her head, he put his arm around her shoulders.
"Are you tired? I thought the mission was supposed to be very long."
He'd been deployed to Fire's borders to drive back bands of missing nin who’d already taken the opportunity to attack some of their villages. His reserves were down to a quarter, his legs hurt, and his calves had cramped up twice from the pace he'd forced. "Maa, maa. I'm fresh as a daisy."
Hikari pulled back. "Of course, sensei. You even smell like one."
Kakashi grimaced. Yeah, he smelled of dust and sweat. "Masaru-san, I'd like to offer some extra protection. Shikaku's shadow mastery is unmatched, but it helps to have another set of eyes." Kakashi liked the boy a little more as he very boldly focused on the tilted hitaiate that hid Obito's eye and lifted one haughty brow.
They were interrumpted by a chunin at the door. "Suna's party has exited their chambers. Four members, among them jounin Baki and counsellor Chiyo-san. The others are described as a tall person in a costume and an elderly man with a turban - probably Ebizu-san."
"Past and present." Masaru remarked nonsensically as the chunin left again.
"Future is too young, too vulnerable for the trip." Came Hikari's cryptic reply.
The door slammed open again. "Shikaku-san!" A chunin gasped out before taking one heaving breath and evening out her voice. "Baki detached from the group. Set to arrive any time now, asking to speak to the kyokuba-dan hime." She glanced around, saw Hikari, and did a double-take. Her head went down in a bow, and her knees did a funny little dance as if not sure whether to curtsy or not.
"Thank you, chunin-san. Please let him in when he arrives."
---
As the minutes stretched and Baki and Hikari very politely said a bit of everything about nothing, Kakashi paid less attention to the words. Suna had to be planning something. You didn't send one of your most valuable jounin in to small talk. But you did send him in for a small targeted strike, to weaken your opponent before a battle. If Baki wasn't making demands, it had to be physical.
Kakashi could see Hikari, but he'd have to cross the room to get to her. Shikaku was closer, and his shadows were fast. But he was a very evident and obvious bodyguard - his presence so predictable that Baki probably had a plan. Kakashi was hidden from Baki's view, and Hikari herself would move fast out of the way. He'd have both the element of surprise and the time to reach her. Unless Baki went for Masaru. A civilian wouldn't dodge. The boy would panic.
Because of Kakashi's sudden hype-focus on Masaru, he saw him tense. A small frown behind the veil, a twitch of his hands.
Kakashi's muscles tightened, and the shadows around him got deeper as his commander readied to cover his next move. Masaru's hands smoothed out, and Kakashi was forced to focus on the conversation.
"Yes, you did congratulate me on the genjutsu I used in my match against Dosu-san."
"The half note, specifically."
"Correct, Baki-san."
"Do you remember what I said about a tritone?"
Hikari paused. "Roughly. That one may be needed at the tournament."
"I told you a tritone would be fitting."
"Perhaps." Hikari agreed.
Baki nodded, the turban hiding most of his face from view. "I'm glad you've granted me this opportunity before the meeting, to remind you that I warned you." He stood up. “I’ll take my leave, Sakasu-hime.”
Hikari remained seated. She was rooted to her spot as Baki left, as Masaru stood up and in front of her. Kakashi frowned at her glassy, empty eyes.
"What was he talking about?"
Silence.
"Hikari-chan!"
"Yes, I hear you."
Masaru gentled his tone, realizing he was getting nowhere. "Alright, let's take this from the top. How did you use music for a fight?"
"Dosu-san was highly sensitive to sound. I used a minor second and he shied away from the dissonance." The report was flat, lifeless.
"How - No. It doesn't matter. And then? Baki-san came to find you?"
"Yes, the night of our fundraiser." Her hands went up to hide her face.
"Tell me about it, please."
Hikari raised her head from her hands, eyes wet. "Was it my fault?"
"What happened, Hikari-hime?"
"Benzaiten-sama, it was my fault. Please, no."
"Focus. He came to find you on the night of the fundraiser, and then?" Silence. "Hikari-hime!" This time, it was more demand than plea.
"Yes. That's it. He called me hime. Sakasu-hime. I should have known. If it was about shinobi stuff, he wouldn't have called me that." Hikari swallowed a sob. "He found me. Said using dissonance was clever. And then he told me that maybe a tritone would be fitting in the tournament. I didn't understand. A tritone, when I'd used a minor second. Six semitones to one. What did it mean? I didn't have time to think about it. The fundraiser. I had to get to the fundraiser. I was running late. I didn't think about it! I forgot! I didn't do anything!"
Masaru's jaw clenched.
"Maa, maa." Kakashi interrupted. "What does a Kiri god have to with anything?"
"Not Triton, Hatake-san. A tritone is a musical interval. A long time ago, music theorists avoided it because it was considered too dissonant, too unpleasant to the ear. Monks outlawed it, calling it the Devil's chord."
"Monks disapprove of our entire profession," Shikaku pointed out. "What would make the tournament different, Masaru-kun?"
"A tritone creates such a feeling of foreboding that it is used in Theater to signal the entrance of the villain. Baki-san gave out a warning to Hikari."
She choked out a sob.
"One that wasn't heeded."
"Please, no. I'm so sorry. I didn't do anything!"
"Every word has consequences, every silence too."
"No. Please. Ami. No. I'm sorry. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. NO! Please. NO!"
Kakashi couldn't move, it felt like freezing water was being poured into his back. He wanted to go to his student, but he could only watch as desperation poured off of her. As her 'no's became more anguished.
Small hands tightened into fists that couldn't fight the past. Eyes scrunched closed to not see reality. Arms around herself to, in vain, try to find comfort. Body rocking back and forth to try to find an anchor.
Shikaku was the one who got in front of her. He was the one who very carefully unpinned the headpiece and brought her into his arm.
The pleas became screams.
The screams, cries.
The cries turned to wails.
The wails tapered off into weeping.
Hikari broke down.
And Kakashi could only watch. It was chilling, to watch a person crumble. He didn't doubt that shinobi he'd worked with had, maybe even those under his command at Anbu. But never in front of him. Never had he fallen apart with an audience. It was a grotesque performance, made even worse because this was Hikari. Something so pretty stained into ugly, naked guilt.
Kakashi had been there when the blow had landed. He'd been there, watching over her.
He'd failed.
---
It could have been a moment or an hour until Masaru stood up and went right up to Shikaku and Hikari.
"We don't have time for this, Hikari-hime."
She sniffled. "I'm so sorry."
"I know." His voice wasn't gentle. "I know, Hikari-hime."
"I am so sorry. I can't - "
"You can't fall apart now. They are coming to deal with you. Whether Baki's warning was true and meant to reach us or just a hint to give him plausible deniability, they're coming to negotiate. And you chose to negotiate hard. We've planned for your plan. The kyokuba-dan needs you to make them pay.” He took a breath. “We've worked hard for this climax. After this, the denouement should be easier. I'll try to get us some time at home."
Hikari nodded.
"Our family needs you, Hikari-hime."
She nodded again and stepped out of Shikaku's arms.
"Can you repeat it back to me in your own words?"
"The show must go on." Hikari wiped her eyes. "One more scene, and then you'll try to get us an intermission."
"Yes, Hikari-hime."
"I need... I need to get my balance back."
"Of course."
"Your voice?"
"Steady. Don't worry about me."
Hikari went up to the chairs and pulled one out. She brought it to the center of the room and stepped on the seat. Masaru brought her a second one. She took it and tilted it on the first one so the back legs touched the first chair's seat and the front legs were in the air. She stepped on top of the second chair. It was done so fast that Kakashi barely had time to flinch towards her. But she was steady. She leant down and replaced her feet with her hands as she went into a handstand. Legs together, she formed an upside-down Y. She flowed, this way and that - so off center that it seemed impossible that she didn't fall. She arched, deep and then deeper.
She stood upright on the chairs, and Masaru handed her a third one. She put it on top of the structure and repeated the whole thing. Two hands became one. No hesitation, no fumbling. Just movement, slow and controlled. Absolute mastery of balance on an unstable construction. Unshaken, unhurried.
She jumped off and took her headpiece. As she pinned it in place, Kakashi caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were greener, colder than the warm hazel he was used to. Reserved and aloof instead of open and engaging. The fact that they were red and puffy only completed the forbidding ensemble. Here was a queen whose people had been hurt – and who was ready to extract payment.
Masaru finished rearranging the chairs. Hikari sat at the head of the table and folded her hands.
"Three strikes, Masaru-senpai."
"I remember, Hikari-hime." He sat at her right and nodded to Shikaku. "We're ready."
Shikaku hesitated. "Hikari-chan?" His voice was calm, a boulder who'd protect against any incoming blows.
"We're ready, Shikaku-dono." Hikari was the water who'd flow over the boulders to get to her objective.
"Anything you'd like to tell me?"
Hikari hesitated. "I don't remember the exact quote, and if it was said by a poet or an empress. But it went something like this: 'I can find another husband, and, with him, birth another son. But my mother and father are gone now. I cannot bring another brother to the world.' It is something to keep in mind if the Honoured Siblings both come in."
Shikaku took in the grim quote with a nod. The commander turned towards him, and Kakashi shook his head. He'd remain hidden, his value either as a shock factor or a last resort if things got out of control. The Nara leader nodded and took his seat at Hikari's left.
It wasn't long before a tokubetsu escorted the party in. The first one in was Baki, which was unexpected - Kakashi had thought it would only be the kyokuba-dan, with shinobi remaining outside as bodyguards. That's how Hikari had explained having Shikaku present - by extension of her family's alliance with the Naras.
The second man was even more startling, not because of his identity but because of his appearance. Yota was a head taller than Kakashi, with a poncho that covered him from the top of his head to his calves. His movements revealed sturdy boots, a bulky toolbelt, and gloves. Everything in a whitish tone. Normal. The jarring part were his faces, plural. The real one - because Kakashi wasn't going to believe the torso and legs were the facing the wrong way without proof - was covered with a ceramic mask. It appeared to follow the contours of the man's own face in a hyper-realist fashion. The details were minimal: kohl around the eyeholes with vertical lines underneath – did they represent tears? On one side of his head was another mask, this of an older person crying. On the other side, a third mask laid, bare of any expression and with features so rounded that they could only belong to a baby.
The third and fourth people were expected - Suna's Honoured Siblings. Ebizo and Chiyo were also clad in cream tones, and they were frowning.
They all took a seat at the table.
Pleasantries were said, with Hikari and Yota speaking for most of it. Kakashi settled on watching him. Generally, bringing a two-faced person to negotiations was an insult, so he wondered at the three faces. Was it an insult, or did it have something to with the past, present, and future Masaru and Hikari had mentioned? But they’d said future was absent, and the baby mask was clearly there. Did he wear them because Sand's kyokuba-dan was traditionally of Theater and masks were its symbol? He hated understanding only half of what was being said, and not understanding what wasn't being said at all.
Three strikes, and then Hikari would act.
Kakashi didn't catch the first, only noticed Hikari tapping Masaru's foot underneath the table. One.
The second was Chiyo's outburst: "Alliances are nothing more than pipe dreams and flimsy paper!"
The third started with him. Hikari had been telling Chiyo that, if that was all that alliances were worth to Wind, then Fire preferred them as enemies. Shikaku was focused on Baki, who'd shown the first sign of true alertness. Which left Yota unattended. Kakashi saw him reach for his toolbelt, and he didn't wait. He shunshined and grabbed his arm.
"Maa, maa. Let's keep the hands where we can see them." He eye-smiled.
"Prepare to die!" Chiyo cried.
By the time Kakashi had Yota unconscious on the floor and had turned, it was over: Shikaku's shadow held Chiyo immobile. Hikari stood behind Ebizu, a kunai at his throat.
Baki took one step forward. Kakashi put himself in front of him, kunai out.
"I'll never forgive what you did, White Fang of the Leaf!"
Kakashi's back tensed. The old lady was confusing him for his father.
Hikari cleared her throat. "Chiyo-san, let me introduce to you my sensei, Hatake Kakashi."
Ebizu held his palms up, offering no defiance. "Sister, look at him closely. He bears a resemblance, it's true, but he's not Konoha's White Fang. Sakasu-hime is within her right to have her sensei at any meeting."
Kakashi could feel Chiyo inspecting him before she giggled. "Hee, hee, hee. Well, it seems you are right. No matter, no matter."
"It does to me, Chiyo-san." Hikari stated. "You attacked my sensei with the intent to kill. It is no laughing matter. You see, Fire always pays its debts. We consider it a matter of honor."
Shikaku turned Chiyo so she'd take in Ebizu with a blade at his throat.
"In exchange, we make sure to collect what is owed to us in full, interest included for our trouble - and our grievances." Holding eye contact with Suna's best poison mistress, medic-nin, and pupeteer, Hikari delicately slid the blade over her brother's skin. Red spurted out, and Ebizu let out a pained gasp.
Chiyo screeched, and Kakashi was sure the commander was full-on sweating with the effort to hold her back. He and Baki were at a stand-still, both unwilling to escalate this further. Hikari hadn't killed Ebizu, or critically injured him. She was making a point.
"You made mistakes, and my family has paid dearly for it. Children were killed. We accepted this meeting with the hope that our alliance would survive going forward. If our belief is mistaken, there's the door. If not, let us sit down and begin."
Hikari let Ebizu go and regained her seat at the head of the table. Masaru had never left his, in an astounding display of poise.
It was Baki who first took his seat, not even bothering to revive Yota.
Slowly, everyone sat down.
And negotiations started.
---
Later, when they were taking their leave, Chiyo turned back.
"Sakasu-hime, we will keep our heads high." There was a lot of anger in the sentence. The Wind kyokuba-dan had been forced into many, many concessions.
Hikari smiled, eyes frozen over. "Please, do just that, Chiyo-san. It'll make my life easier if I ever decide to slit your throats."