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AIC chapter 41
🕑 Added 2021-08-19 16:00:06 +0000 UTCIt was very quiet inside the shrine. She sat down at a long table in a stiff silence. The younger priest left through a door to the left and came back with a bleak-smelling tea balanced on a humble tray. She took a cup and wondered if shrines were on the list of things she was meant to be funding.
“You seem to have a particular connection to death,” the senior priest said. There were stress lines pressed into his forehead that didn’t ease up when he looked at her. “Seeing and interacting with the dead… You can do this?”
Aiko took a sip of her bitter tea and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “A while after I began summoning the god of death.”
The old man flinched. “Pardon?”
She repeated herself.
The priest closed his eyes. He seemed to be chewing that concept over. “Why would you summon the God of Death?” His voice was faint.
Aiko thought about it. “It’s cool,” she said honestly. “And it was a very effective psychological tool against Orochimaru.”
“It’s ...cool,” he repeated, lost.
“I also use it to revive people who I killed by accident,” Aiko added guiltily. She squirmed on her cushion. “A lot of people in Kirigakure, actually.”
He made a sound of comprehension, as if something he’d heard years ago was finally resolved. “You are the Mizukage,” he said. He looked at her again, cataloguing her face and clothes. “I see.” He said that, but his brow furrowed even further in confusion. “How do you summon a God?”
She grimaced. “I…” Aiko tilted her head to the side, trying to find a way to describe it that didn’t sound insane. “I use my eyes. I have a set of eyes which let me do a lot of things, actually. I can use every chakra type that I know about and some really weird things that don’t truly make sense, like summoning unaffiliated animals.”
“And also a literal God?” His question came out bemused. “Why that God- as opposed to any other God, I mean. Did you worship the God of Death?”
She thought about it. “I kill a lot of people,” Aiko said fairly. “Could that be connected?”
The elderly priest looked up through the open door to the garden behind her. “No,” he said. “I do not think so.” He tapped his fingers against his tea cup. “It seems that you have somehow affiliated yourself with a God.”
“Like you?” Aiko asked. She gestured at the shrine around them. “You worship Izanami no Mikoto, right?”
He eyed her sideways. “This is a shrine to Amaterasu. There are no shrines for Izanami no Mikoto in operation these days.”
Aiko felt herself frowning. “Isn’t she the god who made everything?” she ventured. “My religious education was spotty, but I thought that was her.”
“Izanami no Mikoto and Izanagi no Mikoto created the world and most of the beings in it,” the junior priest agreed. “Izanagi no Mikoto sleeps, but he is worshipped. However, Izanami no Mikoto passed into the land of the dead in the early days of the world.”
Aiko made a sound of polite comprehension.
‘That seems like a raw deal. She’s dead but not in the way we think of it, right? She’s still a God.’
“I have to conduct diplomatic business inside of a shrine.” Aiko laid her cards out on the table. “I am...concerned about complications stemming from my… association with the God of Death and my lack of general knowledge about religion.”
“I don’t think that you should have particular trouble.” The younger priest was the one who answered yet again, while the old man looked out into the garden. “It is ..extremely unusual that you might have such a connection to a God. However, there are no wicked Gods. They are merely different.”
“So no one has any kind of grudge against the God of Death?”
The priest opened his mouth and then closed it.
“We are not spokespeople for the Gods,” the head priest said, dryly amused. “No one hears the voice of the Gods and transcribes their interpersonal grievances.”
Aiko blinked. She eyed the two men uncertainly. “I hear his voice…” She trailed off.
They were looking at her incredulously.
“He doesn’t like Orochimaru,” she added helplessly. She shrugged and then frowned as she remembered. “He didn’t like Orochimaru, rather,” Aiko corrected herself. “He’s dead now. Anyway, I think that Death doesn’t like anyone who cheats Death… I wonder if he has feelings about Hidan,” she mused.
“I think that we ought to start from the beginning,” the priest said. He gestured to his subordinate. “While I take care of our duties, please speak with the Mizukage about the Gods and the earth.”
…
Aiko left the shrine feeling unsettled. There wasn’t any known precedent for what was going on with her. Chewing over the upcoming meeting had mostly led her to more questions.
Thankfully, however, some of the questions had been productive.
She breezed into her office and sent off an officer worker for information about their contacts in foreign countries. Kirigakure had nothing like Konoha’s sophisticated spy network, but they were not totally hopeless. When she had the information in hand she chewed it over for a few hours and then wrote up 3 missions. She passed them off to the assignment desk, so that the next qualified personnel to show up for missions would get shuttled off to ask questions.
If Konoha wasn’t talking out of their ass, they would have had to have already consulted with at least two other foreign nations. Otherwise, they would have no standing to threaten that there could be serious diplomatic repercussions for annexing Wave. Aiko put her feet up on her desk and stared at the ceiling, considering different angles. Who would the Sandaime go to? She didn’t know him the way she knew Tsunade.
‘He could even make it into an opportunity to improve his international standing,’ Aiko realized. She twisted her lips into a scowl. ‘I annex one little country and suddenly I am the villain.’
‘I think that Kirigakure has long been considered the villain,’ Sanbi pointed out. ‘No one likes us.’
She paused for a moment, touched that Sanbi considered them in the same category.
‘I misspoke,’ he deadpanned. ‘The important concept is that it is easy to dislike you.’ He paused for a beat. ‘Of course, I mean Kirigakure.’
She pouted, but accepted his point. They were an easy scapegoat.
‘I am not a goat,’ Sanbi snapped.
“It’s just a saying.” She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
Suna was the obvious answer. Konoha would turn to their longest ally for support in this. Kiri also had a decent hand in relations with Sunagakure for the time, given that she had custody of Gaara, but they would be wary about the possibility that she was a warmonger.
She considered it for a while. Would the Hokage have turned to the smaller villages for this?
She decided that yes, probably, he had. Konoha had solid relationships with a fair few of the less powerful countries, and it would have legitimized his claims of international consensus. She noted it and tabled it for later thought. Any one of the minor countries wasn’t a huge issue. As a group it could become a problem, but some kind of holistic solution could address multiple problems in one stroke.
That left Iwa and Lightning. Would either of have possibly agreed to cooperate with Konoha to censure her?
She twisted her lips, not liking the conclusion she came to. She didn’t have to worry about Iwa. Iwa hated Konoha far more than they cared about Kiri, and they were too far away to do more than laugh about chaos on the eastern side of the continent. Lightning, on the other hand, was fairly close.
Lightning wasn’t as insular as Iwa. Lightning had always been involved in the affairs of other countries.
Aiko sighed and put her chin on her palm.
Lightning was probably willing to sign a notice advising Kiri to cease expansionist policies or face military consequences. They probably wouldn’t initiate it on their own— sabotage would be much more their speed— but they would probably lend their weight to Konoha’s protests.
The obvious solution, of course, was to get Lightning so pissed off at Konoha that any cooperation would go straight out the window. Aiko frowned at her window, turning over the possibilities. Konoha wouldn’t do anything to endanger a deal they wanted to propose, so she’d have to frame them. Frame... impersonate?
She chewed it over along with a pastry and coffee. She knew Konoha and she knew their codes, she knew their paperwork specifications and communication habits. She could falsify incriminating documents. It would be convincing. It would require her to think up terrible things for Konoha to supposedly be doing, things that would leave a paper trail... and then she’d need a way for them to fall into Lightning’s hands that wouldn’t look obviously contrived.
It was a tall order.
And then she had an idea.
“Oh,” Aiko marveled, “that would be bad.”
Sanbi stirred, a silent question.
“I could just impersonate Konoha ninja,” Aiko said. She leaned back in her chair. “I know a lot of them and their habits well, and I know distinctive Konoha techniques and jutsu. If I wander around where Konoha shouldn’t be, start a distinctive fight, and escape, I can let Lightning come up with their own guesses as to what Konoha was doing.”
Sanbi let out a laugh. “That is terrible,” he said approvingly. “Who could you impersonate convincingly?”
She hummed, considering it. “It’s only worth considering jounin, I think,” she mused. “People who would be recognized. Kakashi for sure. Sen Tsurara is going to look exactly like his signature murder technique, as like as I siphon up the water afterward. Kurenai... I can do genjutsu on that level and I know her habits. Genma... he’s a basic bitch and I’m mad at him, so I’ve gotta frame him for something... oh, Yamato.” She giggled. “The world doesn’t know about him, but if they see Mokuton, everyone will look at Konoha.”
“That is a fairly conclusive list,” Sanbi said. “However, it would constitute two teams at best. If you wish to spread havoc, perhaps more fake missions would be preferable. How about the turtle man?”
Aiko opened her mouth and then closed it. “No,” she demurred. “I’m not going to mess with Gai. But..” she thought about her creepy, creepy eyes. “I have a perfectly good Sharingan. I could make it look like there’s an extant Uchiha running around. And...” she trailed off and leaned back in her seat.
The Byakugan and Sharingan were supposedly related. Her Rinnegan allowed her to use any type of chakra, so they were clearly flexible... Given that her Rinnegan came with a Sharingan, was there a chance of using a Byakugan or something similar to imitate a genetic Hyuuga?
“Do I get a vote?” Sanbi asked, interested. “There’s someone in Konoha that I hate.”
She blinked, distracted. “You do?” She shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Who is it?”
“The frog man,” Sanbi hissed.
“Frog... Toads?” Aiko checked. “Do you mean Jiraiya?”
The answer was a blank silence.
“The man with messy white hair who dances when he introduces himself?” She corrected.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Sanbi confirmed. “He has an extremely displeasing aura and crass mannerisms. We should punish him.”
“You know what, that’s fair,” Aiko agreed. “He’s my godfather.”
“He is my enemy for life,” Sanbi said. “And I will live forever, so good luck to the frog man.”
“...did something specific prompt this?” Aiko asked.
“I find the way he giggles extremely distasteful,” Sanbi said darkly. “He is a rude little man who puts his dirty feet on furniture. He must be made to face consequences.”
...she had forgotten about that.
“Okay,” Aiko hummed. She thought about how to do it. The toads were the most distinctive and damning identifier for Jiraiya. Sealing was fairly distinctive as well, but harder to have a reason to show off. “I don’t have access to his summons contract, but I have his speeches and some of the dances memorized. I can just go be a loud idiot in front of a beautiful woman and it’ll get back to Lightning somehow.”
“He is a national disgrace,” Sanbi murmured.
“No, he’s an international disgrace,” Aiko corrected. “He makes us all look bad, in one way or another.”
...she had a sudden recollection. “I left him with Tsunade before I went off to fight Orochimaru last week,” Aiko remembered. “They probably think I’m dead, huh?”
“All the more reason he will not understand it is you who has imitated his shameful mannerisms.” Sanbi let out a pleased hiss, curling his tails in.
That wasn’t what she meant, but it was probably true to some extent.
“I should go check on that.” She made a mental note. Given that she had kind of exploded information all over Tsunade, she was pretty optimistic that there was a non-zero chance the princess was going to storm home and throw Danzo off a tower.
With that decided, she sent off a note requisitioning any authentic weaponry and armor confiscated from fire country in the last few years. When it was laid out on her desk, she picked through it for the bits that were authentic and fit at least one of her characters. There weren’t any senbon in the pile, but Genma wasn’t likely to let one of those drop for an enemy to find anyway. She could use any generic one, she decided.
Because she hated his stupid ass, Aiko decided to impersonate him first. She split off into a clone, which she disguised as Kurenai. She made her true body into an imitation of the assassin, and pushed past her cringe to hold a needle in her teeth.
“Interesting,“ said her secretary, who was still standing there. “Are you going out on errands?”
“Yes,” Aiko agreed. “You can expect me back in a couple of hours. I’m going to go ruin someone’s life.“
Nishikawa grimaced just a bit. “ Have a safe trip.” He bowed.
“It will be safe for me,” Aiko said absentmindedly, as she was immortal so far as she could tell. There was no response from Nishikawa because she was already on the outskirts of a border town in Frost Country. She shivered and threw up a genjutsu hood. It didn’t help her with the cold, but it made it look like she was trying. The Kurenai clone to her left did the same, tucking pale hands inside a fluffy white coat.
‘Can’t stay here long, it’s awful,’ she thought. ‘If I ever annex this country, I am going to light it on fire.’ Aiko resisted the urge to let her shoulders hunch up, because it definitely didn’t look like Genma’s body language. She and her clone walked into town as if they belonged. They went to a hotel and got a room on a reasonable budget. They went to a ludicrously expensive bar where Aiko proceeded to rack up the kind of bill that would turn heads, paid, and then walked out leaving most of the food on the table.
That did the trick. She felt two notable chakra signatures approaching before a voice called out to her.
“Excuse me.”
She turned to see not two but three people in the grey and purple of Shimogakure. When her eyebrows went up, it was a legitimate surprise at that show of competency. “Saa,” she stalled, using her tongue to move the stupid senbon to the side of her mouth. She caught one of the shinobi follow the motion with his dark, suspicious eyes.
The one addressing her gave no reaction. “Sorry to trouble you,” He said pleasantly. “Can I see your visa, please?” A passing civilian looked over with wide eyes and seemed to consider stopping to watch the interaction. A stern look from one of the Shimogakure patrol team had him moving on with the rest of the midday foot traffic.
She cocked her head to the side and deliberately did not make eye contact with her Kurenai clone. “Visa?” She repeated, as if she was unfamiliar with the concept.
“Yes, your papers and the designation given when you entered the border,” he said.
She let her eyes slide shut in a smile. “Of course, of course.” And then she flicked on the Rinnegan and thought about a flowering tree. In her mind’s eye, she coaxed it gently out of the ground. Dark brown vines delicately wound up around three sets of legs and grew to the size of modest branches that hugged all the way up to her victims’ chests. Someone gasped.
Aiko made a shhh sound, and had the branches blossom. The fragrance of ume blossoms spilled into the air with a soporific effect.
She opened her eyes just a little and stepped back, admiring her work.
Kurenai would have been proud of this illusion. Two of the three shinobi were limp, hanging up only because they believed that the trees were supporting them. The last was blinking furiously as he tried to stay awake. Aiko propped a hand up under her chin and waited a moment until the last chuunin was overwhelmed. His eyes slid shut and his head hung peacefully. It looked a bit like he had fallen asleep standing up.
They were in a little private oasis on the busy road. Pedestrians gave her a wide berth without knowing that they were doing it or that there was anything to avoid.
She lazily reached out to touch her Kurenai clone and brought them both to the opposite end of the country.
Frost Country was small enough that it was entirely plausible that jounin could cross it in a matter of hours. So she dismissed the clone, threw on a genuinely good henge, had dinner, and then put back on Genma’s face to make an appearance in a bank teller line. She had picked the building at random, and it turned out to be far above the real Genma’s budget. She took a deep breath of mercifully warm and fresh-tasting air while she waited in line. Her footsteps made a pleasing sound against the marble flooring by the door and then disappeared into luxurious, thick carpeting that she kind of wanted for her office. The counter was immaculate green marble. A black pen was attached to a white fitting on the counter via a silver chain. She pursed her lips. She wanted that too, just for the hell of it.
“You want to open an account?” The middle aged woman confirmed, checking a box. She had a black uniform and a green scarf neatly tied around her neck.
While the teller was looking down, Aiko took the chance to swiftly break the chain connecting the pen to the counter. “No, no,” she demurred, “I want to ask about the process for opening an account.”
The teller paused. “It is quite simple,” she offered. “It usually takes about 15 minutes.”
“What paperwork do I need?” She asked, not glancing up at the security camera. Casually, she put the bank pen into her back pocket, dangling chain and all.
“You’re eligible if you have an address within the country. You’ll need to show proof of residence. As for ID, either a copy of your family register or a government issued form will work.” The teller recited it with a practiced cadence and a friendly smile.
Aiko smiled back, and then remembered that she was probably being a bit friendly for Genma. “Thank you for the information. I don’t have my ID on me at the moment, so another time.”
“Have a nice day, thank you for your patronage.” The teller quietly scribbled something out on her notepad and gave a polite little bow goodbye. Aiko heard the sound of paper tearing as she turned and left the bank. She slipped into an alley as soon as she could leave the main road.
‘I wonder if they’ll bill Konoha for the pen. It looks expensive.’ She rubbed her icy fingers at the back of her neck, frowning at the grey sky. ‘Is this enough? An intrusion has definitely been reported by now. If they are competent, they’ll have found me here. But if they’re not, I’ll have wasted my time. Should I put in another appearance? Stand on a tower and wave my arms a bit?’
It would be better to be thorough. But after a few hours in character, Aiko couldn’t really ignore the fact that she was not doing a stellar impersonation of Genma. Her body language probably came off noticeably odd in a big man’s body. The longer she imitated him, the more likely it was that discrepancies would pile up.
She shifted into Kurenai, opting for a red dress that looked more civilian ‘date night’ and less weird than the jounin’s habitual bandage dress. She left the alley onto a street that was well-lit with very expensive-looking neon and ran a hand casually through her long, soft hair. This body was a lot more fun to wear.
For a moment, she thought that she had already been found. She caught people looking at her in her peripheral multiple times when she walked down the block.
‘Oh, wait,’ she realized. ‘Kurenai is just really hot. This is so disappointing. Why don’t they know that I’m a dangerous criminal interloper?’ She glowered at the next person who looked at her too long. The middle aged man smiled back.
‘Fuck, I don’t have all night for this. What to do.... Steal something? Break and enter? Get too close to somebody politically important?’
“Miss,” a man’s voice called out as she passed a bar. A few other men broke out in “ooohs”. “Hey, miss, over here.”
Aiko turned to face the speaker, lifting an eyebrow.
A group of young men were smoking against a wall. The one who had called out to her had a cocky expression and the optimistic start of what would hopefully become a beard one day.
She flattened her expression and tone to be utterly unfriendly. “What do you want?”
Mr. Whiskers showed he had very little sense of self preservation by kicking off the wall and taking a few steps toward her. “Come have a drink?” His peers made a truly obnoxious chorus of sound in either encouragement or mockery.
Aiko eyed the cigarette in his left hand and the beer can in his right hand. That was just sloppy behavior.
‘Why get so close to a stranger when your hands are full?’ she wondered. Instead of answering him, she reached out and took his wallet out of his pants pocket and immediately began walking away. Blithely, she flipped it open and removed all the cash. She heard a yelp behind her and a momentary scuffle as he probably tried to get someone to take his beer can. She shut the wallet and tucked the cash into her bra. “Hey, bitch! Hey!” He was closer now.
Aiko tossed the wallet to the side in a nice clean arc that even a drunk man couldn’t miss. She heard him go after it.
“That’ll get reported,” she said to herself. She made a sharp turn into a side street and then scaled the wall. Someone caught the motion and looked up, but she was already halfway across the building by that point. She dropped down onto another street and walked into a building. It turned out to be a restaurant. No one was at the host stand to say anything when she walked directly into the restroom, shut the door, and used hiraishin to go back to her office.
After a few seconds, there was a knock on her door. Aiko looked up from where she was re-homing her new and expensive pen in a prideful place at the exact center of her desk. “Yes?” she called.
Nishikawa’s voice answered. “Did you have a good trip, Mizukage-sama?”
“I robbed a teenager,” she yelled back. She dug the money out of her bra and counted it for the first time. “He had… Wow, this is more than I expected. Come here, i’ve replenished the office coffee fund.”
Comments
Kelly P
Aiko is such a troll! I love her
Devon Nitz
LOVED this. although I'm glad she remembered Jiraya and Tsunade - the angst of Jiraya's POV hit hard last time. been a good combo of angst and lightheartedness to balence everything
