Chapter 27
Liar. Iruka wanted to yell and scream. It has already been a year since his parents died. A year since the Demon Fox attacked the village, and his father lied to him. He promised Iruka that he would protect his mother. That they will be fine. But like every adult, he was just a liar. He didn't return. He wasn't fine. Not even his body was found.
All that was left of his parents were names engraved on this stupid monument. He hated them for leaving him all alone. But he didn't have anywhere else to go. Nobody to listen to him. Nobody to care for him. All Iruka Umino had were the names of his parents eternally engraved on the monument.
Ikkaku Umino, Kohari Umino.
There was nothing else written about them. Just their names. It didn't say that they were shinobi, parents, and liars. And nobody will know it either. Only Iruka was left with that knowledge, and nobody cared about it either. In the end he was left alone, left behind. And he was scared. He didn't know what he should do.
In this massive village with so many people, he was all alone. He was expected to graduate this year and become a shinobi. Becoming an adult. A liar, like everyone else. He didn't want to. It was easier to cause trouble, to be a prankster at whom adults would yell and lecture and children would laugh. He wasn't ready to shed that persona and face reality, but it didn't seem like the world would wait for him to get ready.
He should probably get back to the academy before his orphanage patron gets angry at him again. That is, if the patron can get even angrier after seeing what he has done in the kitchen. He will surely get a nasty scolding after they find out that he switched salt and sugar. By this time, they should get a taste of his pranks.
Maybe it was time to stop—to stop crying over the names nobody would remember, over the lies told to him. Nobody cared. Nobody would come and help him deal with all this pain inside him, this loneliness. He was lost, and nobody would help him find a way. He will have to lie to himself and hide his feelings until the day he dies. Isn't that what growing up means?
But maybe it is okay, just for today, to hide his face in his knees and cry. Maybe it is okay to miss his parents, to miss their warm hugs and gentle pats on his head. To miss their kind lies and pretend that everything will be fine. Just for today, he won't lie, and he won't smile. It will be the last time he will shed tears.
"Many people die on missions and wars; they die easily and in surprisingly simple ways." A gentle hand fell on Iruka's head. "It might seem that when a person dies, they disappear along with their past, present, and future. It feels like nothing is left behind. But that is untrue. Bonds that person created still exist. Their dreams and goals, too. They don't disappear because we who are left behind carry them on. And that binds us to them. It is beyond reason, but that bond only grows stronger as time goes by. That bond still connects us to the people we have lost, never leaving us alone."
"Liar," Iruka replied, not even turning his head to the speaker, as he already knew he was just another adult. Another liar. "You wouldn't understand how it feels."
"You got me," the voice behind Iruka shook as he spoke. "I am just a liar, a pretender who knows little. So let me lie and let yourself believe. Everything will be fine. And you are not alone. Cry as much as you want, rage as much as you need, and hate as long as it takes because it is okay to feel that way. It is okay to be hurt. But promise me that when it becomes too much for you to handle it all alone, you will come to me and share it all with me."
Iruka felt warm as he was suddenly hugged. His head was pushed against a sturdy shoulder, and he remembered how his parents would comfort him. He missed it so much—so much that he wanted to cry. And so, he did. He cried and cried until the person's white robe was wet from his tears—until he finally didn't feel so alone.
And only then did Iruka raise his head to look to whom the kind voice belonged. If not for the kindest of smiles he ever saw, Iruka would have passed out. He was hugging and crying on the Third's Hokage's shoulder. A person who is considered to be the strongest shinobi of his generation. And there Iruka was, dirtying the Hokage robe with his tears.
Iruka had no right to be so close to such a person, and yet, for some reason, he didn't care about it. He didn't want to let go of the warmness he missed so much. The Third Hokage just smiled as he patted Iruka's head with his gentle head and smiled at him. He didn't say anything and just looked at the monument together with Iruka.
…
"Ding!!!"
'Shut it.'
Hiruzen didn't even look at the notification that appeared before his eyes. It made him sick to think that part of him comforted that child because he was expecting some kind of reward. It felt like the system was mocking him. Telling him that all his actions were for it. That he had no free will of his own and could only chase after a reward the system would throw him. He refused to accept it.
Hiruzen had seen that look in the child's eyes. It made him go blind in rage, and the tears cut deep inside him. The pain and loneliness of that child were beyond anything anyone should feel. Hiruzen didn't know the child; a young boy with a scar over his nose felt familiar, though. But it didn't matter. Those tears wore down any resistance Hiruzen had before approaching the kid.
And there he thought he could visit the monument on this calm morning and get some quiet and time to think.
He shouldn't care.
Hiruzen told that to himself. After all, he didn't know the kid. He didn't know anyone in this world. It shouldn't be his responsibility; it shouldn't matter to him. But how could he look away? He could only blame himself for having a soft heart. And now he had to do something. He just couldn't handle watching children and innocent people suffer so much.
"Haven't I done enough?"
Hiruzen did his best every day. But now it felt like it wasn't enough. He needed to work harder. He needed to make sure that a situation where a child wouldn't need to cry over his dead parents. Where children didn't need to cry at all, and they could laugh genuinely without a worry in the world. He had to create such a world, even if it killed him.
"A shinobi should suppress their emotions," Hiruzen had long since felt Danzo observing him, but he ignored him, hoping he would just go away. "A shinobi like you shouldn't show such an expression. If anyone saw you, they would get worried for the future of the village. As a Hokage, you need to be strong; after all, only the strongest survive."
"Only the strong survive?"
Hiruzen hated that saying. It implied that the weak had no right to survive, and it meant he had no right to survive, either. Whether in this world or his previous one, he never was strong. But he still worked and still did everything within his power for the people around him. And yet, did it still mean that he didn't deserve to live?
It was bullshit. This world and the rules it had set. All of it was bullshit. He refused to follow those rules, even if it meant he had to destroy this shinobi world; Hiruzen would create a world where the strong and the weak could work together and live, where innocent people don't have to sacrifice themselves and leave their loved ones in pain.
"That is how our village has survived over the years. Because we always had the strongest shinobi in the world," Danzo continued. "But it doesn't seem to be the case anymore. You have grown weak, Hiruzen. Our enemies will notice it, and they will use that knowledge to harm us. Our next generation must be stronger than all the previous ones for our village to survive. And yet your actions will make it impossible."
"Our hands are already dirty, so it doesn't matter if they get dirtier," Hiruzen said. "But their hands are clean. And they will stay that way as long as possible, Danzo. And if someone, even you, goes against my wishes, I will personally make sure they can't use any of their limbs anymore."
"You can't protect them all the time," Danzo still stood in Hiruzen's way. "I don't even recognize you anymore, Hiruzen. You are too attached to individuals when you need to look at the bigger picture. As you warned me, I will warn you. Get your act together before it is too late. Your actions have consequences."
'A warning, huh?'
Danzo wouldn't be speaking so candidly if he didn't have anything backing him. He probably convinces one or two clans of Hiruzen's apparent weakness. And now he proudly came to show off. Danzo, on his own, could kill Hiruzen as he was now. Yet, somehow wasn't even a bit scared. Not even a bit worried.
"Make your move, my old friend," Hiruzen said as he looked at Danzo with nothing but pity. "And when you fail to get rid of me, I will kill you. I won't use anyone else's hands to do it. I do it myself while looking at your eyes. And at that time, I want you to tell me if my kindness is my weakness."
There was no anger in Hiruzen's tone as he spoke. Just resignation as he realized that it was inevitable that he and Danzo would clash one day, and only one of them would get away with their lives intact. As the leaves blown by the wind landed softly around him, Hiruzen started to plan the downfall of Danzo and everyone who would oppose him.
…
Fear.
Danzo was familiar with that emotion. And as he looked at Hiruzen, he felt it more clearly than ever before. As leaves danced around him, it felt like the world itself revolved around him. His clear eyes, not stained with anger or hatred, were piercing. Danzo knew more than anyone else how powerful Hiruzen was.
But he also felt more confident than ever before. Hiruzen's heart was too weak to lead the village in these times of turbulence. He no longer could let himself go. Hiruzen couldn't shed his emotions and become the killer they were trained to be anymore. And he was doing the same for the next generation. They needed to forge a new generation through fire, weed out the weak, and cultivate the strong. That was the only way.
Sacrifice is a shinobi's duty. All of them had sacrificed something for the village to sustain their place in the world. Danzo won't want the sacrifice of the countless shinobi to be undone by Hiruzen's selfish intent to preserve the innocence of some children. And he wasn't the only one thinking that way; Hiruzen's ideology was naïve, and it would bring doom to all of us.
So, Danzo will continue to let Hiruzen bathe in the sun like the leaves falling around him, while Danzo will wait in the darkness like the roots under their feet. It was all for Konoha, for their survival in the shinobi world. Only he could change the world from within the darkness, and only he could protect Konoha. It was his village.
…
It was funny how Danzo thought he was smart. Hiruzen could already guess what Danzo was thinking. He was probably going through some monologue about how only he could protect the village and how Hiruzen's thinking was too naïve and would bring doom to the village. Danzo was a self-righteous asshole, so it wasn't hard to predict him.
But Hiruzen couldn't do much about Danzo now. If he moved on his own and beat the shit of the old man, Hiruzen didn't think anyone would mind it. But Hiruzen couldn't use anyone else to do it without a sufficient reason. Danzo had too much power and too many supporters within the village and outside of it. Hiruzen couldn't give them a reason to start attacking his integrity.
And as satisfying as it would be to beat the shit out of Danzo, Hiruzen wasn't that naïve. Danzo was an old shinobi who fought countless battles. His experience and strength shouldn't be underestimated, and neither would the countless tricks he probably had upon his sleeves. Hiruzen wasn't confident in facing Danzo with his strength just yet.
Hiruzen could only smile wryly at himself as he had even more work ahead of him. There, he thought, he could finally take some time to relax until the next crisis. But it seems he has no time to rest and needs to prepare. Many things will change in this village, and Hiruzen could guess that not many will like those changes. Danzo will use them against Hiruzen, so he needs to be prepared.
A.N. has Been unlucky once again; got pushed into watch on the weekend, literally last minute, and didn't come home. I am so frustrated about that that I thought just sleeping this weekend, but I still decided to write something, even if it isn't much. Thanks for reading.