Post by Tensei Kaori on Nov 28, 2008 20:25:22 GMT -5
A gentle breeze filtered through the windows of the Hokage's Office in the shinobi village of Konoha, enough to ruffle a few papers but not really strong enough to disturb anything, and golden sunlight beamed from a clear blue sky, making the interior of the office pleasantly warm though midday was hours off yet. Even here, birdsongs were audible, and the vibrant buzzing of a village prosperously alive. Even now, the sounds of construction dominated, but all in all, it was a pleasant kind of noise. One hardly noticed it, now, but it was nice to just listen every now and then.
It was a beautiful day outside in Konoha. Inside the Hokage's Office, it was a different matter entirely.
Oh, physically, the room was pleasant enough. It was clean, comfortable, and well-kept – at least, as well-kept as an office filled with work that had to be done three weeks ago and increasingly mountainous stacks of urgent tasks of some sort or another could be considered. A decent amount of work to be done was one thing – it gave one a sense of purpose, activity, and accomplishment – but workloads in this amount brought nothing but pressure and added stress. As if the room's occupants didn't have enough.
Then there were the portraits. The portraits of the previous nine Hokage had been hung on the wall over the windows in the office, arranged in a line over the desk so that anyone standing before the Tenth would feel the authority of not only one Hokage, but all ten. It had another effect, too; one that the Tenth had intended when ordering the portraits arranged so but of which she never spoke. She didn't need too; that effect was for her alone. When she sat at the Hokage's desk – her desk, now – and spoke with the Hokage's authority, acted in the name of Konoha as a whole – even when she did nothing but sit in her chair and think – she could feel all nine of her predecessors gathered around her like watchful sentinels, the weight of their judgment weighing relentlessly on her shoulders. What they had built had been entrusted to her, no matter how unworthy she felt, and it seemed likely to her that she would die the instant she failed the village and, by extension, them. Their eyes on her back reminded her that none but the most trivial of her actions were truly her own, now. Maybe not even those. A strong reminder, and a necessary one. One slip, and Konoha could crumble inward like a house of cards. One slip, and that was the end.
She had taken to wearing the traditional robes worn by generations of Hokage before her, layered robes of red and white silk that she draped around herself as elegantly as any Tensei had ever done. She had not worn them often upon first taking office – truthfully, she had been uncomfortable about it – electing instead to simply dress in normal clothes of red and white, but the time was past for that. As young and new to the office as she was, she needed every ounce of every public reminder of her authority as she could get. From what she had read of her citizens' reactions, the effect had been mixed at best. Well, done was done, and there was no undoing it now.
Aside from that, today was particularly important for more than one reason. Today would lend a heavy weight to her relations with her own clan – increasing numbers of whom were not viewing her as a Tensei at all anymore, amongst themselves – and to a lesser extent, her relations with other key citizens in Konoha. People with a lot of say, and a lot of power. People she could not afford to have against her if she was to make Konoha whole again. There were far too many of those who might yet decide to go another way, but then, she didn't think she would be truly satisfied until they were all behind her. However long that took. She wasn't sure she could afford to worry about that part of it, at least not now. There was work to be done yet, after all.
Today, Tensei Kaori would call upon legends to act on her command.
The team known as Santsuki, the Three Moons of Konoha, had already been among Konoha's most trusted shinobi when Kaori was born, had been making their own fame in their own way when her parents were. Even her predecessor, the Ninth Hokage, had rarely ordered the Three Moons. They did as he said, to be sure, but no one with the eyes to see could truly say they followed direct commands. No one issued commands to those three, but today, the world was going to see the Three Moons jump when Tensei Kaori snapped her fingers. If only she could be sure today would go smoothly. Everything depended on that. Would she be one of the great Hokage, or would she even retain the strength to keep the village from falling apart?
A knock sounded at the door, which almost immediately opened to admit Akina, dressed conservatively in elegant black. No short skirts today, not with who was coming to call. Kaori had to fight to keep from smiling proudly; the girl carried herself with pose and calm self-assurance anyone half again her age might have envied. “Hokage-sama,” she intoned formally, “may I present Tensei Shirayuki, Tensei Kurogashi, and Tensei Akamatsu, come in obedience to your summons.” Strictly speaking, none of that was necessary for a Hokage receiving those who numbered among her most trusted shinobi – most Hokage simply received those they summoned by simply letting them in, in most cases – but it was another reminder of her authority. The three named would most likely see it for such immediately, but such things tended to register subconsciously whether the targets wanted it to or not.
Akina barely had time to offer a slight bow and glide out of the way before the three swept in right on her heels. Kaori thought they might have run Akina over had she not moved quick enough to suit them. As usual, Shirayuki entered first, flanked on either side by her brothers as soon as they were clear of the door. From Shirayuki with her silvery white hair that had never been any other color to Kurogashi with just a few strands of gray streaking his glossy black hair to Akamatsu whose hair now held almost as much silver as it did red, the three showed very little in the way of age beyond those gray hairs. Without them, the three would have looked young except for the depth of their eyes; with them, the three almost looked ageless, as though they stood outside of time completely, and they knew it. They filled the room just by entering it. One alone of them was enough to remind Kaori how young and inexperienced she was; all three were enough to make her feel like a girl of ten caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
No, she would not let herself give in. Too much was at stake to lose herself now. The three stopped as one in front of their desks, offering silent nods as greeting. Kaori had to force a wry grin from forming on her face; they had greeted her as an equal. An equal, or a youngling who had been set to command her first major mission and whom they would follow for their own good reasons, until she stabbed herself in the foot. It could be either or both; it was difficult to tell, with Tensei subtlety, as she herself should know quite well.
The pause allowed her to regain the ground she had lost by allowing herself to be caught up by the force of their presence. All three had dressed well, but not in their finest. High-ranking individuals dressing suitably for an audience or a summons, who could have dressed more impressively but did not need such things to remind others who they were – and knew that the “others” in question knew it too. Kaori may have been trained in Tensei subtlety more than most, but these three had mastered it long before she was born.
“I am glad you were able to answer my summons so soon,” she said graciously, and if it was perhaps a tad too warmly, she did it on purpose. A ghost of an excited smile flitted across her expression before fading as quickly as it had appeared. Just like a girl unable to control herself in such awe-inspiring company. She herself could have smiled right then; the three shinobi standing before her kept their faces smooth, but she saw confirmation in their eyes. They thought they had her figured out: an inexperienced slip of a girl trying her best just to hold on to her office.
They had no idea she had them right where she wanted them. Now, if only she could keep it that way.
* * *
What seemed like an eternity later, a pause loomed in the conversation. Kaori's hand itched to snatch up her water glass and empty the thing in an instant, but she forced herself to keep a level gaze on the three shinobi before her, her face schooled to perfect stillness. On the outside she was cool, calm and collected (for the most part). On the inside, she was anything but. Those three had tried to cut her to ribbons! Only what came next would tell if she had managed herself well enough to succeed.
Abruptly, Shirayuki began to laugh. Kaori raised an eyebrow at her, but then the other two relaxed into pleased grins as well. Even Kurogashi seemed on the verge of laughter. Or, at least, chuckling to himself. It was all Kaori could do to not goggle openmouthed at them.
“I haven't Danced like that in years!” Shirayuki exclaimed when she had gathered herself enough to speak. Tensei used the Dance metaphor for more than fighting with fists and weapons.
“One for the histories,” Kurogashi agreed with a nod, as Akamatsu's fingers flashed a message: There is hope yet for this generation.
“You've a ways to go yet, girl,” Shirayuki finished in a tone that could only be called motherly, “but you've earned our respect. I fear for the poor fools who will try to stand against you in years to come.” The wry grin on her face as she made that last statement said she'd enjoy seeing them get what they deserved, and Kaori felt like collapsing out of her chair with relief. For all the woman had called her girl, her method of address had changed. She now spoke to Kaori still as a fledgling commander, but one who had earned her place. She had them. She had won.
“As do I,” Kaori replied just as wryly – this time Kurogashi really did laugh - “but those 'poor fools' are a concern for another time. Worry about the score in front of you, not the one that has yet to be composed.” Tensei were great lovers of musical metaphors.
Shirayuki nodded. “Of course, of course. What would you have us do?”
“I have a mission for you,” Kaori announced as simply as if she had not just asked three legends to come out of retirement once more. “Akina? That folder, please.”
* * *
It was done at last. Konoha's Three Moons had accepted the mission, Akina had gone to fetch the boy, and she herself was left free to sip her water without appearing nervous. The formalities done with for now, or at least put on hold, the four shinobi left in the office were free to discuss other matters. How the reconstruction was going, what the political situation in Konoha was like, whether this person or that would fall in behind her easily, and whom they would drag along. There were undercurrents even in Konoha, where everyone should have been too busy to worry about politics, but a successful Hokage had to know and navigate them all forwards, backwards, and blindfolded.
The Three Moons turned out to be even more of a help than she had expected; having acknowledged Kaori as their commander and thrown their support behind her, they were more than generous with advice and words of caution. No one stepped up to support someone just to see that someone fail, and for all some of her Clansmen were beginning to doubt whether they truly saw her as a Tensei or not, once a Tensei decided to support someone, they did so almost to a fault. She had no fears these three would betray her. She couldn't act on all of their advice at once, of course, or else she would risk being seen as – or worse, becoming – a puppet, but it still gave her plenty to think on.
There was work yet to be done, though, and soon a knock came on the door. At Kaori's command, it opened to reveal Akina, who stepped in and bowed as she had done earlier. “Hokage-sama,” she intoned formally once more, “Shirayuki-sama, Kurogashi-sama, Akamatsu-sama, may I present Tsutomegi Utsuro, come in obedience to your summons.”