Chapter 54: Volume 2, chapter 5 Pursuits, concessions & The Heavenly Mandate.
Sakura had searched high and low for a solution to her problem and had come up short. She made many changes along the way, she got off her diet, she trained fastidiously despite her fear of becoming too muscular. She put in real effort and yet she kept. Losing. To. INO!
Everytime they were called on to spar against each other she lost, she lost badly. With every defeat she felt Sasuke grow more and more distant from her. In truth he didn't treat her any differently but that in itself felt like more of a let down because of what it meant.
What she was beginning to realise about herself, Sasuke had known the whole time. That she was weak.
It was hard not to feel a little depressed under the circumstances.
"Cheer up, Sakura-chan! You're waaay better than before we started training together." Naruko told her.
They were seated on the edge of the sparring circle behind the academy. Ino had beat Sakura again, and Sakura couldn't help getting lost in her thoughts over it.
"I still lost." Sakura replied in a much gentler tone than she would have used with the blonde a few weeks ago.
The weeks following Sasuke's rejection of her had not been easy and in that time, she realised outside of her pursuit of Sasuke and her studies, she didn't have much else. With the race for Sasuke's heart seemingly over, her world became incredibly empty.
Then Naruko inserted herself into her life.
She showed up at her house to walk her to school, she shared lunch with her, she sparred with her and trained with her. She became her friend, Sakura's only friend really. Hinata was there for most of this too but Sakura got the impression that the Hyuga heiress held a somewhat justified dislike of her. It was clear that Hinata held Naruko in high esteem and for the longest time, Sakura had not been kind to the blonde uzumaki.
"Eehhh, you win some, you lose some." Naruko commiserated.
"I haven't won any Naruko." Sakura said wryly.
"Yet. You haven't won any yet, Sakura-chan, but you totally will, believe it!" Naruko replied with unfailing optimism.
"...thank you." Sakura said.
Despite how painful things had been recently, she was really grateful to Naruko for being her friend.
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"Man what a day!" Naruko exclaimed with a full body stretch and a loud ramen flavoured burp.
"Teuchii-san is truly a master of his craft." Hinata said with a much more lady-like hiccup.
Both of them walked forward hand in hand, fingers casually intertwined. Sakura wasn't sure how platonic the gesture was. The way Naruko had pursued her said otherwise but then again she had never seen them do anything that couldn't be interpreted as platonic.
She wasn't even sure why she cared honestly, no that was a lie. She cared because a selfish part of her wanted Naruko to moon over her despite never intending to reciprocate her feelings. Just to stroke her battered ego.
A familiar self-loathing that followed her everywhere these days bubbled up at the thought.
Naruko was really happy now and Sakura was happy for her… she just wished she had a bit of that happiness for herself. Naruko now had everything Sakura wanted—friends, a boy she liked that reciprocated her feelings and to be a capable kunoichi. Sakura only had one of those and it was a result of Naruko's kindness.
It had her wondering how Naruko got these things
The number one thing that came to mind was that Naruko never gave up, she never faltered. No matter how many times she was rejected or she failed she didn't give up. Sakura didn't know if she could do that, but she would try.
The second factor in her mind was mentorship. Learning that Naruko was a disciple of the Toad sannin had been a shock for the ages. She had thought at the time 'no wonder she was improving so fast'.
Sakura didn't have any teachers of her own though, not on the level of a Sannin. Naruko and the occasional tip from Hinata had done wonders for her but she couldn't beat Ino in a fight. She wasn't sure if she ever could.
It was as they were walking through the streets toward the residential area where Sakura lived that she spotted a building in the distance, a building she had never been to herself but one every Konoha native would recognise.
The hospital.
The realisation hit her like a bolt out of the blue. Sasuke might have called her weak but that wasn't why he chased her away was it? No, he chased her away because she was useless to him, trying to get stronger wouldn't make her more useful, it's not like she could ever get strong enough to fight Sasuke's battles for him.
But she could gain the skills to patch him up after. She wasn't sure what Ino did for Sasuke or what she was to him. But Sakura knew she wasn't that.
Sakura knew what she was going to be now though, she knew her role.
"Naruko, Hinata-san, I'll see you tomorrow." Sakura said absentmindedly and began to march toward the Hospital without waiting for a reply.
She would become a medic-nin.
She would be his medic-nin
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They didn't remain in the audience hall for their conversation. The elevated throne would force the Daimyo to look down and Hiruzen to look up, wreaking havoc on their old necks, and they had known each other too long for posturing to supersede efficiency and comfort.
That was why, as soon as the children left, they shuffled off to a side room where incense was lit and tea was served.
"You have upset many with your actions, Hiruzen," the Daimyo spoke, drawing the old monkey away from inspecting the rounded backside of the servant filling their cups.
"Well, others have upset me. As fellow countrymen, it is best if we share the burden," Hiruzen said, taking a sip from his cup.
The Daimyo snorted.
"We both know you would not be so blunt about your actions if you did not have good reason," the Daimyo replied.
"Blunt? As far as I know, there has been no evidence of action on my part at all," Hiruzen said with a raised brow.
"No need to play coy, Hiruzen," the Daimyo said with a shake of his head. "Everybody remembers the brilliance of young Minato in the Third Shinobi War. He was truly a sight to witness. But us old codgers didn't miss all those enemy bases that seemed to vanish into thin air at the time — all in the areas where you were supposedly passing through. Now the same thing is happening again. Too far away from you for us to point a finger, but our generation remembers what a visit from the Shinobi no Kami looks like," the Daimyo said, his tone serious and gaze intent.
There was a tense silence before Hiruzen broke it with a smile.
"Good," he said.
The Daimyo blinked as certain pieces of the puzzle began to form a clearer picture.
"You're doing this intentionally. You wanted us to notice," he said with narrowed eyes.
"Indeed.We cannot afford to be divided, Daimyo-sama. That is why I am shaking a few branches. In the ensuing panic, Orochimaru's co-conspirators will expose themselves, and we will swoop in and deal with them," Hiruzen said. It was the truth. The fact that he could vent his spleen while doing so was a happy coincidence.
"And the loyal noblemen you offend in the meantime?" the Daimyo asked.
"They will be well compensated for their loyalty when the dust settles. War is quite a profitable business, you know," Hiruzen said, taking another sip of his tea.
The Daimyo tensed in his seat.
"War, Hiruzen?" The Daimyo almost hissed the question.
"We both knew this peace would not last forever," was Hiruzen's calm reply.
The Daimyo stared for a moment, teeth grit, before looking away as though he had tasted something bitter.
"The villages were given authority to wage war to lessen the devastating consequences of a true one, but this does not eliminate the consequences completely, Hiruzen. The common man still suffers when there is conflict," the Daimyo said, staring into his cup of tea as though it held answers.
"They do. But the era of the Warring Clans was little more than a century ago, Daimyo-sama. You must give the system time. Besides, Konoha has won every conflict. The Land of Fire only grows in strength. Her people prosper," Hiruzen replied.
"Maybe so, but the Land of Water shows us that not everyone benefits from this. How many starve now? How many die because of the power shinobi have been given over a nation's security and prosperity?"
Hiruzen found his idealism both endearing and naïve. Despite his words, they both knew the Daimyo had neither the power nor the intention to change the emerging status quo, but Hiruzen would offer what comfort he could.
"In the game of life, there will always be losers, Daimyo-sama. For a better tomorrow, we can only work to lessen the weight of failure and dispossession." It was a cruel and somewhat cold view of life — one many would say he could only hold because he had never been a loser himself, born a genius and heir to a great clan. Yet time had taught Hiruzen that everyone was a loser in some sense. Take the man before him: born with the heart of a healer yet burdened with rule. Lord of the most powerful nation on the continent, yet a loser all the same.
"Entire towns gone, Hiruzen. Towns. All of them criminal, yes, but they could not all be deserving of death, could they?" the Daimyo asked with discontent, forcing Hiruzen to consider his words.
…Maybe they were not. Maybe all the lives he took were not justified. But Hiruzen had been doing this so long that even the guilt of not feeling guilty had worn away. Complete annihilation served his purposes, so that was what he did. At the end of the day, they were enemies of Konoha, and that was what mattered. For the longest time, that was all that truly mattered.
It was in that exact moment that Hiruzen realised he and Danzo were not so different. They were both products of their time, of their experiences. The difference was that while Danzo remained in the blood and dirt, Hiruzen had followed Hashirama-sama's example instead of their teacher's and aspired toward hope rather than rational cynicism. Yet even with those hopes, he was an old man, stuck in his ways. Faced with a problem, old habits emerged, and people died as a result — people who may not have needed to.
It was not guilt that drove this contemplation but pragmatic thought. There would not be true peace anytime soon, but the horrors of the era in which he earned his name had passed. With it had passed the effectiveness of a man who reigned supreme in that time. That made him obsolete in matters of leading a state in the age to come.
He had always known this on some level. That was one of the reasons he had so readily divested himself of the Hat. Why he was eager to be rid of it again. Minato was gone, but hopefully his teacher would suffice in his place.
"Is Orochimaru such an imminent threat as to warrant your actions?" the Daimyo asked, drawing Hiruzen from his thoughts.
"There will always be threats that warrant violence—" Hiruzen began, putting a frown on the Daimyo's face, before continuing. "—But maybe my actions were… excessive," he concluded, feeling every bit of his age.
The Daimyo studied him for a moment before sighing.
"Maybe so. But your reasoning is sound. War will come again, and there will be many more before the world knows true peace. Most likely, we will not be alive to see it," the Daimyo said without sadness, only hope that those who came after might inherit a world free of their era's tragedies.
"Enough talk of business. How are you, Hiruzen?" the Daimyo said, waving a hand as though to clear the air fouled by matters of state.
"What can I say? Sometimes I feel like resting, but then I remember there is more to be done," Hiruzen said with a shrug, running the tip of his finger over the smooth surface of the table.
"Yes, there is always more work to be done," the Daimyo agreed, sipping his tea. "Though that brings up another issue."
Hiruzen looked at him inquiringly, and what the Daimyo said next filled his stomach with equal parts dread and anticipation.
"Asuma."
What has that boy done now?
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The reaction I got from the young nobles was not as explosive as their emotions had presaged. Back in Konoha I would have been drowned in questions, but I wasn't in Konoha — I was in the Daimyo's court, surrounded by nobility. The restraint of etiquette kept them from expressing their curiosity. Even the tipsy nobleman seated beside me apologised for his outburst and suddenly became very hesitant to speak to me. His chakra, which had been bursting with curiosity, was now laden with anxiety and fear of judgment.
It was a feeling that abounded up and down the table for the rest of the gathering. Even Taizen acted more formally toward me.
It was strange, and I didn't get it. I wrote a couple of books about nobles killing each other for power and suddenly every noble was scared to talk to me. What the heck was that about?
What I did know, though, was that nobles were always looking to use you. Even the nice ones — especially the nice ones — because they actually cared about their duties and were willing to use every tool at their disposal to carry them out, including you. Ironically, the only trustworthy noble was a poor one.
"Ugh, they were so boring! My father's estate this, this person's outfit that, oooh this material is so exotic, I can't wait to use it in my embroidery!" Naruko exclaimed, making a poor mimicry of the young noblewomen she'd spent the evening with. Her transformation jutsu fell away in a puff of chakra smoke, pulling me from my thoughts.
I chuckled and followed her into the apartments that had been prepared for us by the Daimyo's staff. Covered in decadent silk, beautiful tapestries and carpets, even a balcony that gave a view of the capital now lit up by the lights of nightlife. It was, to put it bluntly, pointlessly luxurious. Or maybe I was just too used to the shinobi propensity for minimalism. Still, even the couch Naruko had thrown herself onto was stitched with literal gold thread — a feature every piece of furniture in this room shared.
"But you like embroidery," I said to Naruko as I joined her on the expensive piece of furniture.
"I know! That's how boring they were," Naruko said as she shifted to place her head on my lap, her feet hanging off the arm of the couch while she kicked off her slippers, wasting no time getting comfortable. "Well, when they weren't asking about you, at least," she added.
"They kept calling you Maiten-sama. What was that about?" she asked, looking up at me with blue eyes I hadn't seen since we disembarked from the carriage.
"It's the pen name I use to publish the books I've written," I answered, my hand going up to massage her scalp and ruin her bun in the way she liked.
"You mean the books with the dragons and stuff," she said, humming in appreciation.
"Yeah."
"With all the murder and ero scenes," she said absentmindedly, making my hands pause briefly before resuming at her whine of complaint.
"…Yeah," I admitted with mild embarrassment.
"Huh. Maybe they're not as boring as I thought they were," Naruko said, falling into deep contemplation, the gleam in her eyes telling me she was already thinking about how to use this information for maximum amusement.
"It seems the cat is out of the bag regarding your books," Kuro said as she settled on the couch beside me with a huff. I couldn't sense any anger directed at me, but I could tell she was disgruntled with the situation regardless.
"I shouldn't have said that," I winced with guilt, but Kuro took my hand in hers and waved off my concerns with the other.
Naruko complained briefly at the cessation of head scratches.
"It was a useful bargaining chip, but not an irreplaceable one. Just be more careful about volunteering information. Even the seemingly innocuous can be a treasure to the right ear, Ku-kun," Kuro said while placating Naruko by replacing my hand with hers.
"I will be more careful," I promised.
"It is a good lesson to learn early, and with less vital information," my sensei said as he emerged from outside my sightline. A quick glance at the apartment door showed no signs of it having opened.
We were in the literal heart of the nation and my sensei was still appearing dramatically out of thin air.
Peak wizard behaviour.
Ebisu made a similar entrance, but unlike my sensei I managed to catch the remnants of the body flicker he used to appear inside the room.
"Sensei. Ebisu-sensei," I greeted both men.
"Hokage-sama. Ebisu-san," Kuro greeted politely.
"Jiji! How was your meeting? …oh, what's up, perv?" Naruko added.
"It was productive," my sensei said with a chuckle while Ebisu visibly twitched at Naruko's address. I could only imagine how exasperating it must have been for him to realise she could fake civility and simply chose not to.
He didn't seem to have the energy to address it right now.
It had been a long day for all of us, and I was sure most of us wanted to slink off to bed, but I had a question for Ebisu — one that had been burning in the back of my mind since meeting the Daimyo.
"Ebisu-sensei, I believe you were saying something about a 'Heavenly Mandate' before we arrived at the palace. Could you explain what that is?"
Ebisu perked up at my inquiry, nodded, and took a lecturing pose with his arms folded behind his straightened back and nose in the air.
"The Heavenly Mandate functions similarly to an idea prevalent in your books—"
"You've read my books?" I asked in surprise.
"—king's blood," Ebisu continued over me. I let it go and focused on his words.
"It began with the first rebellion," Ebisu said, adjusting his glasses so the light gleamed off them just right.
"Like most rebellions, sides were taken, blood was spilled, and power changed hands," he began.
"But when the war wound down, it came down to a few factions holding all the power, and blood was being spilled faster than it could be replenished, leaving us vulnerable to foreign invasion and being picked apart by the other nations. An advantage had to be created — something that would break the stalemate."
"King's blood?" I asked, seeing where this was going.
"King's blood," he confirmed.
"The leader of one of the dominant factions took a wife of the Daimyo's clan — the Himori — and her name. The resulting legitimacy allowed them to gather the support needed to win. From that point onward, every major conflict or coup ended with the blood of the Himori clan back on the throne."
"And with every rebellion that ended with the blood and name of the Daimyo restored, more legitimacy accumulated around that bloodline. It became accepted that only the blood of the Daimyo could sit on the throne, and that belief made it even easier for that blood to rule the Land of Fire."
"A self-fulfilling prophecy," I murmured, pieces clicking into place.
"The Heavenly Mandate," Ebisu corrected gently, nodding.
"For over a thousand years, only that bloodline has ruled the Land of Fire. No other."
"And after all this time, the Himori would have done everything in their power to ensure their stranglehold remained," I said. One could only imagine the influence a family could amass with that kind of symbolic power.
"Indeed," my sensei agreed from the balcony, where he had wandered off to light his pipe, his voice carrying back to us.
The vision I saw of the Daimyo made sense now. I wasn't truly seeing him — I was seeing his position. His title. A title so politically and spiritually entrenched into the nation and his bloodline as to be immovable. Unshakable.
Eternal.
It also explained the Severed Sons. They were ritual sacrifices on the altar of the Himori clan's image. A cult of personality for a ruler who was not just a man, but a scion of heaven, ordained by fate to rule through a chosen bloodline.
The funny thing was that I was certain some nobles thought it was nonsense, but they believed everyone else was too stupid to realise that. And in doing so, they indirectly acknowledged its power by letting it dictate their actions. By accounting for that power when making decisions, they added legitimacy to the Heavenly Mandate — legitimacy others could see reflected in their behaviour, reinforcing belief even further.
No wonder the Daimyo ruled instead of the shinobi. How do you overthrow something like that? Suppressing the revolts that would follow such a coup — from both true believers of the Heavenly Mandate and those who viewed the Himori clan's return to power as inevitable fact — would take decades, if not centuries. And that was without even considering the difficulty of attaining the same level of prestige and authority they already possessed.
No, it was far easier to work with the Daimyo than to engage in a pointless money sink of a war for power, especially when the benefits on the other side weren't even guaranteed. Nothing ensured the Heavenly Mandate would simply transfer itself to the clan that overthrew him.
And it would have to be a complete overthrow. I imagine that after the first few coups — where the victor simply took the name and married into the bloodline — that exploit would have been patched by now.
"That must have taken a lot of luck," I said, only to be interrupted by a new voice.
"Don't let the eunuchs hear you. Some might take offense at you not believing in the Son of Heaven's right to rule," said a voice with a bit of sarcasm to it.
I flinched in surprise at the sudden arrival and paid attention to the senses I had been ignoring in the safety of my sensei's presence. The chakra of the man who had entered the room was a glowing inferno of gale-force winds.
When I turned to look at him, though, I was sure of his identity in one glance.
He was tall and strapping, with dark hair, brown eyes, and a cigarette hanging from his lips. He was dressed in typical shinobi fashion except for one addition: a white sash around his waist with the kanji for fire.
"Sup, pops," the man said to my sensei, confirming my suspicion.
This was Sarutobi Asuma.
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A/N: Sakura continues her journey towards love and greatness!
She also befriends Naruko along the way!
The Daimyo and lord Third speak and the God of shinobi's wrath is cooled by the compassion of the lord of fire!
Izuku is famous and doesn't know how to deal with it!
We learn what the Heavenly Mandate truly is!
Will Sakura work her way into Sasuke's pants?!
Jiraiya's ascension approaches! What does this spell for the rest of the world?!
Asuma appears, why is he still in the capital?!