Cinnamon, cloves, and tobacco smoke
If there was a place more unlike the hauntingly lonely ruins of Uzushio, than Tanazaku Gai, then Sakura hadn’t seen it. The town heaved with people, a chaotic, conflicted, force of humanity that Sakura found almost overwhelming, and yet, at the same time, fascinating.
It was a gambling town, mostly, although the other vices were widely represented as well. The brightly clad civilian tourists contrasted sharply, not only with the off duty ninja in their unevenly personalised uniforms, but also with the locals, who favoured darker tones, and smart suits. Market stalls were crammed in wherever their owners could find space, manned by little old ladies with sharp eyes and sharper minds, and guarded by their sullen grandsons, with cheap knives, and the aggression of discontented youth. The scents of spices, and over ripened fruit, and hot wraps of indeterminate content, vied with the stink of sweat, human and animal, and the occasional swirls of perfume from the houses marked by red lanterns. To Sakura, born and raised in a military town, the sheer disorder, made it an alien world.
She could see Naruto’s excitement at the prospect of places to go, people to see, things to do. He’d always loved adventure, and this town offered adventure to cater to every taste. Sasuke was at once both uncomfortable and curious, the sheltered rich kid taking his first good look at the forbidden, an interesting contrast with Neiji’s stiff disapproval. Lee and Tenten, as far as she could see they were interested, but less excited than Naruto, or Sasuke. Unsurprising, they’d been genin for a year already, and it seemed likely they’d been to similar places before.
Kakashi sensei just smiled indulgently at their clear excitement and the pleading looks in their eyes. Nodded and let them loose on the town, with instructions to be back by dawn and not get caught burning the town down. He always did believe in letting them choose their own vices.
They were gone almost before he was done speaking, rushed off to learn about a thousand things the young can only learn about when adults aren’t looking. Naruto leading the way, a bright flash of orange disappearing into the spice market in the blink of an eye. The rest followed him, all but Neiji and Sakura.
Neiji’s disapproval failed to crumble in the face of opportunity, and so he left with Gai sensei to look for clients. No-one tried to talk him out of it. In the end, the only person that could help Neiji, was Neiji himself. They’d learned that the hard way over the course of the mission. His family was in his head, and in his heart, and they shadowed everything he did. In the end it wasn’t the cage bird seal that kept the branch house Hyuuga bound, there was after all, only so much that could be done with a kill switch. No, it was the constant, insidious voice in the head of every member of the clan, that said this is how things are done, this is how things always will be, this is how a true member of the clan behaves. Social programming, Ino used to call it, before she got too old to talk about such things out loud. It was something that only Neiji could choose to break free of.
Sakura had wanted to follow the others, half out of curiosity, half because she didn’t want to be left behind. But she’d been pulled up short by Kakashi sensei’s grip on her shoulder, gentle but unshakable, and she knew he wouldn’t have stopped her without reason.
“Not you Sakura chan” He said softly. “We have somewhere else to be.”
He wouldn’t have stopped her without reason so she swallowed her half formed protest and followed him. She followed him along a twisting route, down back alleys, and around market stalls, through a riot of colour and scent and life that made it all but impossible for her to keep her bearings. She followed him, and wondered, just which part of her reality he’d be upturning today.
…
Naruto was alight with fierce curiosity and excitement, that was clear for anyone to see, and Sasuke, couldn’t help but be dragged along by Naruto’s interest. The streets of Tanazaku Gai were chaotic, and energetic, and full of a thousand new things, and if Narutp and Lee hadn’t been dressed so brightly he and Tenten might have struggled to follow them. The thousand scents of the spice markets, cloves, and cinnamon, and a thousand things he didn’t have a name for, came together with the sounds of more people than Sasuke had ever imagined could be crushed into such narrow streets. Truth be told it seemed far more like Naruto’s natural habitat than the empty ruins of Uzushio had been, whatever his family history might have been, and it eased something in Sasuke’s heart, to see his teammate so at home among the living, after the dark memories the ruined city had brought up.
They were young, and free of adult supervision, so of course, simple exploration hadn’t satisfied them for long. By early evening they’d decided to sample the vices the town was so famous for. They settled on the casinos in the end, since Tenten had vetoed the brothels. They went to the casinos and discovered a whole new world of bright lights, and possibilities. People from a thousand walks of life all playing their own games with chance. Sasuke would have needed to activate the sharingan to follow everything going on.
With their headbands on display, no-one was fool enough to try and forbid them entry on the basis of age. Ninja were adults, they had to be, even when their voices had yet to break, and they were still wearing child size sandals, and their uniforms were cut so the hems could be let out. Ninja were adults, and so they could go where they wanted, anything else would have meant admitting they were not adults, and no-one was fool enough to start pulling on that thread, because Ninja needed to be adults.
Naruto was disturbingly, almost suspiciously good at games of chance. Three casinos had already thrown them out on suspicion of cheating, and they’d still managed to triple their starting money. If Naruto weren’t so painfully, embarrassingly attached to the idea of fair play Sasuke would have agreed with them. No-one was that lucky at cards. But Sasuke knew better, he knew that Naruto had the kind of honour that would be the death of him one day, and he couldn’t imagine him cheating at cards. It looked like Naruto just really was that lucky.
How someone unlucky enough to get a bijuu sealed inside them as a baby, could have such good luck at the gambling tables was a mystery in itself. Maybe being made a jinchuuriki, and everything that went with it had been enough bad luck for a lifetime, had left him with nothing but good luck to live by. It was as good an explanation as any, although he doubted the local yakuza would buy it as an excuse.
Sasuke didn’t think the local thugs would be stupid enough to try and make an issue of their winnings. Most criminals knew better than to bother ninja, the costs were too high. But they were only genin, not yet at the overwhelming power level of the really dangerous ninja, and there was a lot of money involved. But then, it was one of the major advantages of being attached to a village, that for all the awful weight of duty villages laid upon their soldiers, they were also a source of protection. No village ninja was ever truly alone, not when there was always someone to avenge the insult of an attack, there was a particular kind of safety in that. Still, Sasuke scowled a little and tried to look threatening, there was after all always the chance some fool would forget that villages didn’t let their vulnerable baby genin out without lethal jounin to protect them.
Sasuke wasn’t sure whether or not he hated being right. He should hate it he thought, he should have been upset that the local organised crime had decided attacking them was worth the risk. But dealing with them had been cathartic, a simple fight, no need to kill any of them, just the familiar patterns of violence, that he knew as well as his own hearbeat. Moving around and with the others as easily as thought because fighting beside Naruto was as easy as breathing by this point, and they’d spent enough time training with Lee and Tenten, that it was easy to fall into the rhythm of the fight.
He stood there, over the unconscious bodies of their enemies, and it was only then, standing there in the aftermath of the fight that he realised, he hadn’t thought once about Itachi all day. Something had relaxed inside his chest, an icy, clawing weight that he’d barely even noticed until it was gone. He thought back over the day and the only thing that registered was the sunlight, and the life, and how it had felt to relax into the presence of his teammates.
The realisation terrified him more than a little. But as he caught Tenten’s exasperated smile, and caught flashes of bright orange and green wreaking enthusiastic, optimistic havoc on the town as a whole, he found, that he didn’t want it to stop.
…
It was an old bookshop, that Kakashi dragged his most academically inclined student into. Utterly unremarkable from the outside and the paper scent of the air was touched with the bite of old tobacco smoke. Small, and stacked high with slightly worn copies of popular fiction, and battered second hand encyclopaedias. He hid a dark smile behind his mask. Dangerous things so often looked harmless, and few things were as dangerous as knowledge. Sakura was learning that too, but still, he could see her relax, almost involuntarily as they stepped inside. It was obvious Sakura liked bookshops, and even now, even knowing that there was nothing safe about whatever Kakashi had dragged her in here to do, the familiar scent of old paper was enough to settle her nerves.
He waited to make sure the shop was empty before approaching the counter, browsed casually until the other customers were gone, and then he laid out a careful sequence of books on the counter. The shopkeeper’s eyes widened slightly when he realised exactly what signal Kakashi had given him, but to his credit he didn’t miss a beat. Not bad for a civilian.
“And was there anything of special interest you were hoping to see, Ninja san?” The man asked, with the kind of studied casualness that indicated he was waiting for a countersign. Subtle for a civilian, but Kakashi could see the tension in his frame, could smell the fear.
“I was wondering if you might have any texts that offer a fresh perspective on traditional problems.” Kakashi had done this dance before, he knew the right ways to ask. A dance of double meanings, and subtle hints, not exactly code but close enough.
“Oh. Well I have some interesting new treatises on the economics of Iron country, if that’s what you’re looking for.” That offer had some interesting implications, but Kakashi was after something far more dangerous today and they both knew it.
“Hmmm, I was hoping for something a little more general. My young friend here needs something to help her understand the… broader implications.” The shopkeeper tensed and glanced over at his genin sharply, consideringly. Whatever he saw in her he must have approved of, because he looked back at Kakashi with a certain degree of respect.
“The curious type is she?” There was a world of meaning hidden behind that statement. It looked like Kakashi had judged right, the shopkeeper did have what he was looking for.
“Oh yes, and far too smart for her own good. She favours the academic approach. I was hoping to give her something to build on.” Kakashi said. The shopkeeper’s eyes cleared in understanding.
“Ah, I think I have what you need. A foundation text.” Now that was surprising. He’d been hoping for something influential, possibly the Hanzo discourses, or Kurosawa’s “History of the elemental nations” if he was lucky, but if the man was offering what Kakashi thought he was offering. Well it was considerably more than he’d hoped for, and the man behind the counter was braver than Kakashi had thought, to be willing to hold such an item. Men had been killed for far less.
“That would be ideal. I understand such works are hard to come by.” That was saying it lightly. Kakashi had no idea how the man had got hold of a copy. Seeing his mild disbelief, the shopkeeper just shook his head irritably.
“Honestly. You ninja think you have a monopoly on useful contacts. Go upstairs. I’ll bring you what you asked for in a moment.”
…
Sakura stared at the book in front of her, and tried not to feel like her world had just been knocked off its foundations.
“New walls, old wars: A critical analysis of the hidden village system by Senju Tobirama”. It was vicious, it was insightful, it was utterly at odds with everything she’d ever been told about the second Hokage. It made her village a liar in ways that she’d never even thought were possible.
It was the sheer audacity, the scale of the lie, that made it hit so hard. Senju Tobirama was one of the founders of Konoha, one of the legends, whose reputation the village had been built on. To find out he’d never believed in it at all. It was almost sacrilege.
She remembered history lessons with Iruka sensei. Remembered Learning about Senju Tobirama, the second Hokage, a genius at jutsu creation, and administration alike. That he was responsible for half the systems that allowed the village to operate effectively. That he was his brother’s right hand. That he’d died for Konoha.
The best lies are made of pieces of truth, shaded in a particular light.
That Tobirama had been a genius, that much at least was true, it shone through in every carefully outlined explaination, every razor sharp point, that the book raised. Every page, every line, every word screamed the thoughts of a man who saw far too clearly, and understood far too well, and had never quite learned to lie to himself.
“You understand.” Kakashi sensei said softly, “Just how much trouble you would be in if anyone knew you’d read this.” She swallowed slightly and nodded. The books he’d given her before were dangerous, this, just knowing that this book existed was likely treason.
“Have you read it?” She asked, unsure of what answer she wanted.
“Yes. He saw very clearly. Too clearly I think, for his own peace of mind.” There was no apology in his eyes, no shame. The book was treason to read, that much was clear, but then he’d already committed treason once, what was reading a book to someone who’d already abandoned his village.
“Is it true?” She found herself asking. “Did the Nidaime really believe those things?” She asked if it was true, but already her mind was flashing ahead to a thousand clues she hadn’t known to look for. The library in Konoha had dozens of the Nidaime’s technical texts, some of them were even on the academy curriculum. And yet, none of his personal writings had survived to the present, and now she found herself wondering, what might have been written in them, that had led to their destruction.
“Probably. It’s known, outside of Konoha, that Senju Tobirama wrote questionable books on political theory. Other villages have nothing invested in making him look like a pillar of orthodox ideology, so they don’t suppress that fact. The books are still banned of course, the contents are too dangerous for them not to be, but it’s known that they exist.” Sakura wasn’t sure why she was so shocked. It was just more of the same, just more of the truth that lay under the skin of the village. Kakashi had been peeling that skin back since he first became her sensei.
And yet in its own way this truth was even more shocking than learning about what had been done to Naruto as a baby. Even more shocking than the suspicions that she’d been picking up, about what had happened to Sasuke’s family, those were lies but this... The Nidaime was one of the pillars that Konoha had been built on, and now… Now she knew. He’d never believed in the village at all. His brother had believed the village would bring peace, but Tobirama had seen too clearly, he’d known it would only change the scale of war.
The most shocking thing, other than the fact that the Nidaime would write such a book at all, was the detail, the specifics. The book set out in words as clear and plain as daylight, the fracture lines of politics in the warring clans era. It described how the hidden villages were born of those fracture lines, and defined by them. It said, everything changes but it all ends the same, and every brutal point was backed up with the kind of cold proof only a high ranking ninja could have had access to. It had been written before Tobirama became Hokage, and yet already, the cracks had been showing.
She couldn’t take the book away with her. Too much of a risk, and the shopkeeper wasn’t willing to let it out of the building anyway. But this was important, was something she had to know. So she sat there with it reading through as the candles slowly burned down, and she wondered if lies were the only things holding the world together. Kakashi was sitting at the other end of the table with a different book, also provided by the shop keeper, and when she asked him, all he said was that truth was a dangerous thing, and one day she might need to be dangerous.