WAP (aiko chapter 19) : in which she makes everything a lot worse for no reason

CHAPTER 19

Things felt less bright after Izuna went home. She laughed less and she couldn't relax. Izuna had acted like her social equal, and it had been refreshing.

'He's meant to die soon,' she reminded herself. It was not the first time. 'That's the famous dead brother that prompts the founding. Maybe this upcoming battle is when he dies.'

It left a bad taste in her mouth. Was it really right to stay out of this? Was it necessary?

Aiko went about the next few days with the uncomfortable suspicion that she had done something wrong by not interfering immediately in the conflict between Izuna and the visiting Senju.

'If I'd gone after that rude woman, I could have cut this shit out before she got home to tell them the Uchiha needed to be cut down before they get too big.'

Honestly? Senju Toka was full of shit. Her accusations made some sense, but they weren't true. Aiko was more offended than she should be. The idea that what she did was for the political benefit of some group of handsome idiots was insulting. Like. Aiko, at the beck and call of the world's most twitchy boy band? Bullshit. It was bullshit, is what it was.

God. People would really think that, wouldn't they? Aiko: a tool of the Uchiha.

"They wish!" She huffed, pulling down the broom from the hook with a fearsome expression. She attacked the steps with more energy than usual, sweeping debris across the street. Her face was wrenched up into a scowl.

The three girls gave her sideways looks under their lashes, but they didn't comment about Aiko talking to herself. They were probably just relieved that she wasn't talking to them. They hadn't really warmed to her yet.

She couldn't just dwell in it. She was busy acclimating her new Miko trainees to life in the village. That meant going with her to visit the old, infirm, and otherwise needy residents. They climbed trees together to pick fruits. They also joined in the calligraphy classes with her adult students with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

'If I was going to stop them from fighting, how would I do that?'

At a guess, it was more important to pacify the Senju than the Uchiha. The Uchiha were just reacting to a declaration, not instigating.

"Fumiko-san," Aiko began, after a long period of silent thought. "Can you think of a way to stop the Senju from going to fight?" She asked. Then she paused and added, "Aside from killing or maiming them."

"Thank you for specifying," Fumiko said dryly. Her fingers twitched in her lap. The two of them were receiving a rather subpar practice tea service ceremony from Hana. "If you'll give me just a moment, I'm sure I'll come up with a solution for the centuries long feud between the two most powerful clans in the area."

Aiko waited for the requisite moment, just to be a dick. Then she cocked her head expectantly.

"I do not have a solution." Fumiko didn't break eye contact. "I think they're going to just have to die. Do you plan to kill them?"

"I don't think this is on the approved list of topics for tea ceremony," Hana said. She looked tense. She was frowning into the bowl where she was whisking froth.

"It's not any worse than letting the Senju and Uchiha fight, is it?" Aiko wondered. "I hate letting this happen, ostensibly in my name. It might be better to make the Senju admit that I'm an independent actor, not an Uchiha affiliate or pawn."

Fumiko's brow wrinkled. She didn't seem to have a response for that.

"Flowers," Hana said. "The weather. Art. Religion."

Aiko eyed her disciple from the corner of her eye. "Are you hushing me or making a suggestion?" She directed her eyes up at the rafters, thinking it over idly.

Oh.

"I would never be so impertinent as to hush you, Aiko-sama," Hana lied sweetly.

What did generals do before battles?

"I am merely listing topics, since the previous conversation has come to a stopping point."

They went to pray, Aiko answered herself. They went to a temple or shrine to get the gods' blessing.

"You're right," Aiko said absently. She huffed out a disbelieving little laugh. "That's the answer. That's how to stop this."

"...What?" Fumiko asked.

"I need to know where the Senju go to get blessings." Aiko stood up, mind churning through possibilities.

"Please sit," Hana snapped.

Aiko sat down.

After the tea ceremony was finished, she got started on that information gathering mission.

Her first instinct was that such a powerful clan would be patrons at an influential, famous shrine. She asked around the village. It might be common information. It was part of post fight propaganda, after all. There was no point in going for the blessing if you weren't going to brag about the success you expected.

She was right, and she was wrong. People knew offhand that the Senju were connected to a tiny two-monk temple on the top of an isolated mountain.

Finding it should have been easy. It was actually a time-wasting nightmare. Most mountaintops were isolated. She spent a very frustrating day hiking.

When she finally bounded up the last incline and saw a temple on the top of that particular mountain, victory was so sweet that she could have cried. Beaming, Aiko walked under the gates and called ahead to announce her presence.

It was nearing dusk, so it must have been a surprise to the monks to hear a visitor. After nearly a full minute, a tremendously elderly man with a curious expression strode out to see her. As he walked up, the scent of his dinner wafted off of his simple robes.

"You roast boar?" Aiko asked, intrigued. "That smells incredible."

"With burdock," he agreed easily. He gave her a bow in greeting. "How may we help you?" His companion finally came into view at the partially open sliding door behind him.

"You can invite me to dinner," Aiko suggested, interested in that boar. "And you can tell the Senju that if they fight the Uchiha this time they're going to suffer unprecedented misfortune."

He barely blinked. "Come in to our table, priestess." He smiled, just a sly little bit. "You can use the time to elaborate on why I ought to say such a thing."

Not five minutes later Aiko was seated comfortably at the table. She gave a half smile to the middle aged man who'd introduced himself as Fujo. He didn't smile back, but he inclined his head the slightest bit.

The master of the temple was humming quietly to himself as he assembled a tray in the other room.

Fujo looked kind of dour, honestly. It might have been because the master had taken back their untouched rice bowls in order to distribute it among 3 bowls.

She gave him her most beatific look. Saintly, even.

He was unmoved. A clever guy, Fujo.

Master Haraki slid the door open with a gentle shuffle of paper against the wooden frame. Aiko watched his fingers curl slightly to balance the tray. They were nice hands, wrinkled and brown and somehow strong despite belonging to an elderly man on a restrictive diet.

"We have simmered wild greens," Haraki said cheerfully. "And snake berries for dessert with our tea."

"Wonderful," Aiko said honestly. The tray was in front of her now. She waited patiently with hands on her lap as Master Haraki served rice, miso soup, and a portion of the meat and vegetables.

"Look at his face," Master Haraki mused. He shot his younger colleague a mischievous look. "Priestess, do you think that Fujo-kun could benefit from relaxing?"

Well, that was a trap if she'd ever heard one. She suppressed a grin. "I think that many people work too hard."

Fujo shot her a glance that clearly questioned what the hell kind of priestess was precious about labor.

They chatted while they ate- the weather, the harvest, the possibility that there was some kind of political shakeup. Aiko fixed her smile in place at that point while Master Haraki's questions became more pointed. He seemed amused the whole while, which told her enough about how much news he was getting on his mountaintop. He'd known who she was when he invited her to stay for a meal.

…Did that mean that Fujo-san's unfriendliness was an educated choice and not his habit? If so, good for him. It wasn't necessarily smart, but it was impressive nonetheless that he wouldn't pretend to like her.

Too late, she realized that knowledge implied that they had regular visitors.

She figured it out in the way that she figured every terrible thing out: she noticed that some asshole was arriving. She felt their chakra arrive kilometers away, at the base of the mountain.

Aiko sat up straight mid sentence, chopsticks hovering above her roasted boar.

That was someone big and bad. That was a real motherfucker.

She gave Master Haraki a sideways look, nerves twisting in her stomach.

'Were they stalling me until Hashirama could come and deal with me?'

Aiko couldn't be totally sure that's who was making their way up to the shrine at a breakneck pace, but it seemed like a pretty safe bet. He was the one who should go off to get pre-battle approval from the gods.

'I didn't even get to explain what I'm gonna say Izanami portended,' Aiko thought mournfully. She hurried to finish her food. 'Time to wing it.'

"Excuse me, priestess." Master Haraki stood. Fujo watched him go with beady eyes but didn't follow.

Aiko waited in her most dignified seiza pose. Her back was straight, her hands were arranged just so on her lap, and her gaze was averted.

"Senju-sama, it is wonderful to see you," Master Haraki's trembling voice carried.

The answer was a low rumble, words that didn't carry.

"Ah, yes," Master Haraki answered cheerfully. "We have another guest tonight, a priestess from the valley. Perhaps you've heard of her."

There was a distinct pause.

Aiko craned to hear-

The door flew open. Senju Tobirama stood in the entryway and gave her what had to be his shittiest look.

She went through all the stages of grief.

That guy. He was her historical crush (how embarrassing, this couldn't be happening) and he was the zombie that snapped her femur. (even more embarrassing. Also: Fuck Orochimaru.)

He was also infamously unfriendly.

“You,” he said, red eyes cold. “I have heard of you, yes.”

Aiko blinked up at him. “That’s nice,” she said.

He took a step up into the room, feet silent on the wood. She hadn’t even noticed him take off his shoes. Did he do that before he opened the door? “You must have come to see me,” he deduced.

“Do I know you?” Aiko asked innocently.

Tobirama blew just a hint of hostile chakra through the room. Fujo stood up and took a few hasty steps away from her. “You are a fool and a tool of the Uchiha,” he accused. “Whatever you hope for, witch, you will not find it here.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “That’s so insulting.”

He paused.

She picked up her tea and took a sip before it got cold.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Tobirama somehow made himself look bigger. “For what end have you come?”

The audacity of this man was breathtaking. What a bitch! And the aggression was ridiculously out of bounds.

“Maybe it’s nothing to do with you,” Aiko said snidely. She set the cup down with a sharp clatter. “I’ve met two Senju now and the arrogance is astounding. How wonderful it must be to be able to deduce the truth of actions you did not see and the thoughts of people you haven’t spoken with. It’s very impressive and not at all pathetic flailing to find a target to direct aggression at.”

‘They can die,’ she decided. 'I don't want to save them.'

If she was a different person, the sheer weight of cold fury that Tobirama leveled at her would have brought her to a weeping mess. But she was Aiko, so she gave him a withering look. “Pathetic,” she said again, with all the disdain that she could level. She finished her tea. The room was very quiet. “I must quit your hospitality, Master Haraki,” she said, looking at him over Tobirama’s shoulder. The old man was still standing outside with his hands folded and a very mild expression. “I have limited patience for childish dramatics. Your ministry is kinder than mine.” She stood and walked around the table in a cold, horrified silence. She caught sight of Fujo’s white face. He was pressed up against the wall watching the confrontation.

“You will not go,” Tobirama said, attempting to block the doorway with his body.

“That’s not even the entrance where my shoes are,” Aiko said, scornful. “Why would I go out that door?”

He shifted in a shunshin to block off the other door.

Izanami-no-mikoto have mercy. He was such a bitch. She momentarily considered it- but no. She wouldn’t be the one to escalate to a fight in a shrine. Not over her shoes, anyway.

‘I’ll hiraishin out.’

“You are lucky that I am not so attached to worldly things,” she said. “I tire of your immaturity. I find myself much less interested in preventing bloodshed than I was before I met you.” Aiko lifted her left hand to make a dismissive gesture. “I had wished to ensure the Senju knew that the silly girl who came to my shrine was telling lies. If that’s the level of intelligence and respect that your clan can really boast, I suppose you’re welcome to your mass grave.”

In the back of her mind, Aiko felt …off. Something about this wasn’t right, wasn’t how she would usually react to disrespect. She usually had more of a sense of humor, didn’t she? She was more likely to panic and go straight to aggression than she was to this cold, courtly disdain.

Tobirama’s nose flared. “You are mistaken, witch,” he said. “You may not leave until you have answered to my satisfaction.”

Aiko felt the last vestiges of restraint flood out of her body. Her voice was very quiet. Her face was entirely still. “That is the last time you will speak to me thusly and keep your head,” she said into the silence.

For the first time, a hint of doubt appeared on Tobirama’s face.

It was too late. She nodded to Master Haraki, Fumi, and gave the Senju one last withering look before she pulled herself away with hiraishin, back to her shrine.