Plum blossoms and sword steel
The samurai set Sasuke’s teeth on edge. Their escort had met them at the border of Iron country, and while they had been perfectly polite there was just something off about them, the way they moved, the way they spoke. They didn’t move like ninja, step too heavy, stance too firm, none of the obscuring body language all ninja used to mask the violence in their movements. They weren’t ninja that much was obvious, and if they’d been civilian that would have been fine, Sasuke knew how to deal with civilians.
But they weren’t civilian either, weren’t anything Sasuke could find familiar. They carried their weapons right where anyone could see, and walked like they owned the world, and spoke like people utterly assured of their own place in the rightful order of things and there was something so very alien about it that Sasuke couldn’t help but tense.
They didn’t move like ninja but they didn’t smell like civilians. There was an edge of sword steel in their scent, the smell of weapons and blood that marked a predator, a potential threat, and they weren’t ninja; weren’t anything familiar, and so he had no idea what form that threat might take.
Kakashi sensei must have seen something of his discomfort, because that night he’d let Asuma distract their escort with shop talk, while he helped Sasuke and the rest of the genin put the tents up.
“You’re right to be wary.” He said, too casual. Loud enough that they could all hear them, quiet enough that the Samurai couldn’t. “Samurai are dangerous. In their own way they are as dangerous as ninja are.”
“I thought Samurai were weaker than Ninja?” Naruto was confused. Sasuke might have made a snide remark, but he was also a little confused.
“Well. They say a lot of things.” There was a dangerous humour in Kakashi sensei’s voice, and all of them knew to listen closely. “Truth is in a fair fight between a ninja and a samurai generally the odds would be on the Samurai.”
“As though any ninja would ever let it come down to a fair fight.” Ino smirked. Kakakashi nodded approvingly.
“Just so.” He said with a sharp smile that touched the corners of his eyes. “Remember that, if you ever need to fight a Samurai. It’s not our job to meet them on their own terms. They hate us and fear us for that, for not obeying their codes of honour, but we don’t owe it to them to be other than we are.”
“They think they’re better than us.” Shikamaru said, neutral in that way that the Nara as a clan had perfected, as though taking things personally was just too much effort to deal with.
“There are three things in life one should not cross lightly,” Asuma sensei quoted wryly as he stepped over towards the tents, “A kunoichi’s spite, a nobleman’s greed, and a samurai’s pride. All of those things are without measure, and all strike when you least expect, when you let your guard down and think yourself safe.” The part of Sasuke that had learned Kakashi sensei’s lessons too well wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard, before deciding to make himself know.
“And that’s the other thing to remember.” Kakashi sensei said unphased by Asuma sensei’s sudden appearance. “Reputation matters to a Samurai, honour matters, status matters, question that, threaten that, and it is as though you held a blade to their throats, to the throats of all their kin. Do not do it lightly, they can and will kill for it.” It was interesting, watching the two of them together. Nothing like the way Kakashi sensei was with Gai sensei. Sometimes it felt almost as though they were still trying to get each other’s measure. Sasuke found himself wondering how well they knew each other, if they knew each other at all beyond reputation.
“Foolish dramatics.” Asuma sensei snorted, but went quiet at Kakashi sensei’s sharp look.
“Is it? Do you know what happens to a Samurai who loses their reputation, their honour? If they fall hard enough, badly enough, it can see whole clans executed, down to the children, can see great lords cast on the winds to sell their skills like petty mercenaries until they die forgotten and alone and far from home, can see women forced into marriage with their sworn enemies, the killers of their families. To a ninja samurai pride might seem foolish, but for them it’s life and death, it’s how they know who they can trust, who they can deal with in good faith, who they can turn to for aid, they are not wrong to be touchy about it.” Asuma sensei gave Kakashi sensei a considering look at that, but held his silence.
“That’s why they don’t like us.” Ino realised. “It’s not just that they disapprove of what we are, it’s that we’re a threat, because of what we are, because by existing we call into question the things they have to believe in, if they don’t want the whole basis of their society to fall apart.” Sometimes Sasuke found it really disconcerting how smart Ino could be, the annoying fangirl act was very distracting. Maybe that was the point. She was a Yamanaka after all.
“Aa.” Kakashi’s eye crinkled in a smile of approval. “And that is why we are very polite to the samurai, and they are very polite to us. As long as everyone is very polite, no-one is dragging up inconvenient truths, and everyone gets to walk away happy.” Sasuke really wasn’t expecting Sakura to be the one that raised objections to that statement, but she did, with an edge he had never seen in her before, not even when she’d walked out of the chunin exams covered in someone else’s blood.
“Sometimes being polite just makes things worse though.” She said with an almost fevered intensity, “Sometimes it just lets things fester behind all the inoffensive smiles and the nothing conversations about the weather, and the never letting each other close enough to say anything with any meaning.” She paused then, as if realising maybe in the rush of emotion, she’d revealed more than she’d planned, Sasuke was intimately familiar with that feeling. To her credit she didn’t hesitate long, clearly decided it was worth pushing through.
“And they let you tell yourselves lies about each other, about each other’s thoughts, and intentions, and desires. They make it so easy to feel like you’re having the same conversation, and if you’re not… if you think you understand and you don’t…” She trailed off, but Ino was there to step in, and it was there that Sasuke could see the traces of the old friendship between the two of them.
“Ninja live and die by information. We lie yes, when we have to, but we always have to know the truth. But when everyone is telling the same lies, when everyone has agreed to tell the same lies, that makes the truth almost impossible to pin down. Right?” Ino turned enquiring eyes on Kakashi sensei, who considered the question for a long moment before answering.
“It’s not an easy line to draw.” He admitted, finally. “But diplomacy isn’t quite like a fight. It’s more like a dance.” Even Ino looked confused at that one, glanced over to Asuma sensei for reassurance. Asuma sensei just sat back, waiting to see where Kakashi sensei was going with this lesson. Suddenly though something seemed to click for Sakura.
“It’s performative.” She realised. “A fight, its about you and your opponent, you against them and so what’s important, everything that matters, is what passes between the two of you alone. With a dance though, it’s not really about the two of you at all, its about the show, about what everyone else sees, the way the moves you make affect your audience. And…” she hesitated for a moment before continuing, “It’s co-operative as well. You have to work with the person across from you or the whole thing falls apart.”
“Just so.” Kakashi sensei nodded in approval, his eye crinkled up that way it only did when one of them had managed to impress him. “And if it’s dishonest it is at least an honest kind of dishonesty, a shared lie, between two people that share little else. Without at least that much common ground, things can get, messy. Being polite means you can keep the conversation going when the honest thing to do would be to murder each other. But both sides have to commit to it, to be seen to have committed to it, and to trust to each other’s committing to it, otherwise it doesn’t work.”
“And trust can save your life.” Sasuke whispered under his breath, to himself more than anything. Kakashi sensei glanced over at him with sharp approval for that, before continuing as though he hadn’t heard.
“And so we are polite to the Samurai, and they are polite to us, and by standing on the common ground that affords us, we can avoid making an issue of all the things we do not hold in common, we can talk without fighting. And because perception shapes reality, if we can be seen to not be fighting each other, it makes it more likely that we won’t have to.”
Ino looked over at Asuma sensei again, and Asuma sensei nodded slightly, with a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“He’s not wrong. It’s not quite how I’d put it, but it’s not untrue. I would add though, that there are good manners and there are good manners and sometimes diplomacy depends on which you are using at what time. The way you employ a polite nothing phrase can be an honesty all it’s own.” He looked over Sasuke’s shoulder. “Now look alive, the Samurai are on their way over.”
They spent the rest of the evening quieter than usual, considering the implications of that conversation.
…
If Asuma made a habit of paranoia he would be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Personally he’d always felt the stress of being constantly on edge waiting for things to go wrong wasn’t worth it. Wore a person out so when something did go wrong they were running on far too many nerves and far too little sleep to handle it properly anyway. Better to relax when the opportunity arose and accept that sometimes getting caught off guard was inevitable. But if he were the kind to try an anticipate every disaster, he would be expecting one now. Things were going too well, considering all the potential sources of trouble on this mission. But he wasn’t that kind of ninja, so instead he just counted his blessings and appreciated the peace and quiet while it lasted.
It had been an easy enough journey. No trouble on the roads, the Samurai had been no more than usually antagonistic, and somehow, wonder of wonders, Hatake’s hard conversation had been enough to keep the genin from making trouble with the Samurai. Asuma found himself reluctantly impressed. He’d been reasonably sure his own brats would have kept their mouths shut, if only because Ino was a specialist in people skills, and Shikamaru and Chouji were too easygoing to start fights easily, but Hatake’s team was set up for violence, for making trouble on the village’s behalf. All of them had tempers and none of them were subtle, he would have expected have to smooth things over for at least one of them over the course of the journey. That he hadn’t was a testament to Hatake’s teaching skills, and it struck Asuma all over again how little he knew about his fellow jounin sensei. Kakashi might have been in the village for half a lifetime at this point, but Asuma had been away from it for nearly as long, they knew of each other, but Asuma wouldn’t say they knew each other. Perhaps this mission would be a good opportunity to get the man’s measure.
Upon their arrival in the capital they were quickly ushered to a well-appointed house, clearly designed for visiting diplomats, and then left to settle in before their meeting with the Shogun. Nice enough place, clean and well lit, with plenty of exits, and expensive but reasonably practical furnishings, the kind of place they put you when they weren’t trying to prove a point. The delicate scent of plum blossoms from the covering trees outside was a nice touch. Asuma was cautiously pleased. It was far from the worst start to a diplomatic mission he’d had. Of course the Samurai were unhappy about their presence and bad at hiding it, but the culture clash being what it was, Asuma would have been far more concerned if they had been pleased to see them.
“Rule number one of court politics”, as he’d told his students with a layer of dark humour to cover the importance of what he was telling them. “Never trust anyone who’s too happy to see you, they almost certainly have plans for you that you won’t like.” Wasn’t just true of court politics of course, court wasn’t special, it was just… distilled, all the nastiest human impulses and tactics refined into an art form. That was rule number two. Court brings out the worst in people, don’t underestimate how far they might be willing to go. Ten years guarding the Daimyo and Asuma had learned that lesson the hard way.
He wasn’t sure whether to be curious or concerned about what court politics might bring out in a Ninja from the bloody Mist. What they might bring out in the students of such a man, in a boy sworn to vengeance, and another that would do anything to be seen, in a girl that had been the first in her year to kill and all of them alone and adrift in ways that no clan raised child could be.
Then again, maybe he should keep his worries closer to home, Ino was a Yamanaka right down to her bones, built from the ground up for psychological warfare and manipulation, and young enough not to always know her own limits. Shikamaru might be more circumspect but Asuma wasn’t so blind that he hadn’t noticed that his student had started playing dangerous games since the chuunin exams. And Chouji, well Chouji was sweet, if he wasn’t watched closely, the vultures at court might just tear him to pieces.
It would be fine. He had been training his students for this, in a hundred offhand comments, and casual slips of the tongue, and jokes that bit just a little too close to the bone. They were smart, they’d grown up in ninja clans, they knew to pay attention. There was a reason his team had been chosen for this mission, and unlike Hatake’s brats it wasn’t to keep them out of sight out of mind. For better or worse court politics were one of Asuma’s specialties, and so his team was being trained for diplomacy. His kids would be fine, this was a relatively low stakes mission. He knew what to watch for, and they knew how to be careful. He wasn’t worried about his team.
Hatake’s brats on the other hand. They would bear closer watching. They were a lot better than he’d expected from their profiles, highly talented little bundles of seething issues that they were, but as a team they were designed for breaking things, for sabotage, or regime destabilisation, or straight up combat. It wasn’t a skillset suited to avoiding problems, and they were all of them considerably less stable than he’d prefer for a diplomatic mission. Not that his preferences mattered in the face of the broader objective of keeping the Kyyubi jinchuuriki and the Last Uchiha out of the hands of Konoha’s enemies. Sometimes the official mission didn’t come first, and you just had to work with things as they were. Whatever magic Hatake had worked to instil a measure of subtlety into those kids, Asuma just hoped it was enough to carry them through a long term diplomatic mission without at least one of them losing it too badly to be smoothed over.