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Hattori Zenzou feared nothing.
Whether it was the fogy samurai and their fogy-ish lifestyles, the Amanto and their alien weapons, or the terrorist groups and their terrorizing ideas of how to turn the world upside down, he showed them no fear. Whether it was secret government assassins that befriended the dark, or a bunch of ninjas shitting on rules and loyalty, he never once shivered.
Because the former were his clients. The way he treated them may affect his annual paycheck, so fear was pretty much off the table. The latter was the definition of the Oniwabanshu, the organization led by Zenzou, also the organization where nobody really gave a hemorrhoid about what their leader said. His shiver meant nothing to them.
But seriously, Hattori Zenzou never feared.
Sometimes he felt like his life was a pain in the ass, and it was not because he literally had a thing causing him a lot of pain down there. It was, but only partially. The other things that made his life a nuisance included, but were not limited to: the absence of Shonen Jump, the absence of his beloved fuglies, and the absence of fear.
He could not control the first two. He did not know about the publishing process and what might cause a magazine to be postponed. He did not usually cross paths with commoners, which most of the fuglies were. That left him hanging on the third nuisance. The absence of fear.
It bothered him because he knew fear was the key to staying safe, and the top priority of his job was actually staying safe. Fear was what helped a person detect dangers and learn how to automatically stay away from what killed them. At least that was what he was taught in class. In reality, Zenzou never knew fear. He depended on his intelligence to avoid dying.
He knew there would come a day his logical brain missed a possible outcome, his experience reached its limit, his calculation backfired, and he had to turn to his instincts, his nonexistent ability to fear, to decide if he should stay out of something.
He hoped the day would never come, but he also knew it was a delusory hope. The day would come, and, without the ability to fear, Hattori Zenzou would throw himself in an absurd danger without even knowing the consequences, and die the most meaningless death in the history of hemorrhoid ninjas.
But that would be the story of many years later. Zenzou’s intelligence did not have such a pathetic limit. For now, he lived and fought based on logical analysis. For now, he lived his pain-in-the-ass life, literally and figuratively, and feared nothing.
Or at least it was what he thought.
On the day Zenzou learned that he actually had a fear, he knew it was a she. Purple hair, slender, too beautiful for his liking, but he did not complain. Sharp eyes. Fierce and dangerous posture. The glasses at first appeared to hide her beauty, but the more Zenzou looked at her, the more he was convinced that she was born precisely for a glasses look.
She also had a name. Sarutobi Ayame, but most people reduced it to Saru, or Sacchan for short. Zenzou was among the few ones that kept the Sarutobi, although he doubted that they did it for the same reason. The others may be for the sake of formality, but Zenzou just did not want to omit any syllable. He loved the way they danced on his lips.
Sarutobi, as in the legendary ninja, suited her skills and powers. Ayame, as in the flower, the iris that only grew on dry land, also suited her strong personality. Zenzou was never familiar with flower names, but he knew for sure what an ayame looked like. He had held onto its name - her name - ever since he started knowing what it meant to pin over someone.
They were childhood sweethearts, or at least it was what he would like to call them. They had known each other for ages, but he did not know when it happened. He never kept records of such things. It might as well just be a case of one day he woke up, looked at his reflection in the mirror, found his head was filled with her images and realized she would live there rent-free from then on.
No matter how many times he had wished for something to bloom between them, what was actually there seemed to be a wall. A vandalized wall with the words CASUAL ACQUAINTANCES written on it.
Zenzou could not read her mind, and he could never tell what she thought of them. Casual acquaintances sounded like the right word, as they did not meet each other often, yet he hated its implication. Although they did not interact at the friend standard - reference: an article in Jump - he knew they were more than mere acquaintances.
What were they, then? Friends? It was technically not wrong. He knew many secrets about her, and vice versa. She did not seem to bother when his hemorrhoid problems were all over the place. They were comfortable with each other’s presence no matter how absurd it was. Although Zenzou could argue that what happened from his side was more than just comfortable.
Enemies? It was not wrong, either, because they used to fight on different sides. Ninjas swore their loyalty to no one, so it was inevitable to fight against each other, especially when she was not a member of Oniwabanshu. Zenzou tried asking her to join, several times in fact, but always received a negative answer. She was the solitary warrior type.
Lovers? Hell no. Zenzou brushed it off the moment he felt the thought creeping at the back of his head. He wished. But they were not. And he wondered if they could ever be.
He could ask her about that. That was what a normal person did when they did not know something: they asked.
But Zenzou could not ask, because it meant he had to state the reason for asking. It also meant he had to admit to his feelings. The complex feelings for her. The locked away desires he had decided to keep for himself until his body decomposed under the grave. The unrequited love he never planned to let her know.
That was when Zenzou learned about his fear. His fear was not Sarutobi herself, but it could take the form of her because every part of it was about her. His fear was to face his feelings toward her, to admit that he wanted something romantic with her, to be rejected by her as the result, and to overwrite everything they had together with awkwardness.
He was not sure if Sarutobi thought of him the same. She did not seem to have a specific type of man (or woman for that matter), although there was a time she was head over heels for the silver-haired samurai. It was pretty rough to Zenzou back then, but it soon turned out to be just a fling. Sarutobi and the samurai had nothing in common.
But that did not mean she was into Zenzou, and he had no way to know. He could not risk throwing whatever kind of relationship they were having into the trash to ask. He pretended that he liked the status quo so that he could see her without stirring up any unwanted trouble.
He hated it when he could not show her his feelings, but he decided the fear was greater than the hatred.
“Are you drifting off with your thoughts again?”
Zenzou looked up. Sarutobi was sitting next to him, her head tilted a bit to the side. She had a thin fog over her glasses, due to the heat and humidity where they were.
They were ordered to secretly keep eyes on a division of Hitotsubashi because the Shogun suspected there might be foul play. They had followed the division for days, and as their target stopped in an abandoned forest in the middle of nowhere, Zenzou and Sarutobi had no choice but to stay in a ruin nearby.
“I can’t help. The rain makes people think deep thoughts.” He replied in a calm tone.
The rain was unpredictable. The ruin they stayed in was severely wrecked to the point that only a narrow part of it was enough to shield them from the rain. They had no choice but to press close to each other. Sarutobi did not seem to mind, but Zenzou could feel his cheeks getting hot. He was fortunate that they had just run a few miles at full speed, and it was a hot summer day.
“And what are you thinking about?” Sarutobi seemed to not want to give up on conversation attempts.
“Something that a shithead like you will not understand.” He chuckled
“Try me. Who knows? I may know something you don’t.”
Yes, you do, Zenzou thought. Sarutobi knew her heart better than he did. She knew her feelings toward him. She knew if she considered him anything more than just an acquaintance, or a friend, or a temporary coworker. She knew what he was desperate to know, but was always too scared to ask.
Zenzou shrugged, then changed the topic.
“You can take a nap. We will take turns if need be. It looks like the rain will not stop soon and they won't go anywhere in this weather.”
“Can I use you as a human pillow?”
Yes.
“Why?”
“Because I don't want to use the wall."
“Sure, whatever.”
Zenzou leaned against the wall, with Sarutobi on his side. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms hung on his waist. It could be a hug, but it could also mean she did not find any other place convenient for her arms. Her breath caressed his neck, and her voice whispered softly to him.
“You look tired. Your face is still hot from the run. Are you sure you can take it? We still have a lot to do.”
“I’m sure, Sarutobi.”
“Let me check, just in case,” he could feel her voice closer to him, and before Zenzou could react, Sarutobi was prancing over him. Their faces became closer, almost enough to let the tips of their noses touch.
Sarutobi put her hand on his forehead.
“What are you doing?” Zenzou huffed in surprise. He did not push her back, but he did not know what to do with his arms, which appeared to be very abundant at the moment, so he decided to let them hang awkwardly on the sides of his body.
“Checking if you have a fever.”
“Why? Are you worried?”
The words slipped off his tongue before Zenzou could control them. For the first time in his life, Zenzou hated his mouth and whatever body parts in charge of speaking more than his burning ass.
“Why? Do you want me to?”
Sarutobi’s answer startled him. He could sense something in her voice suggesting that she wanted him to, and it made his heart jump. But the fear emerged again at the back of his head, reminding him that it was just what he thought. The suggestion in her voice might as well be something he wanted to hear, not what it truly was.
And as Zenzou had no way to know if his mind was deceiving him, or if he was imagining bullshits and giving himself false hope, he decided to play it safe.
“No, I don’t. It’s just weird to see you worry about me.”
“Why so?” She insisted.
“Because you never really cared that much? We grew up together, and how many times have you helped me apply hemorrhoid medication? The answer is zero. So it’s weird to see you worry that much over a fever. Which I don’t have.”
Zenzou felt like he had said too much for the part, but he just could not think of anything else.
“You like the status quo, don't you?” Her voice sounded like a breath as she parted. Zenzou felt like she had moved a bit further away from her former position, and from him. Not that far - they did not have much space, to begin with - but enough for him to notice. Enough to clench his heart in pain and embarrassment.
Hattori Zenzou, the man who knew no fear, was afraid of his own feelings.
“You like the status quo.” She added with a faint smile.
“What status quo?” he pretended to not see her faint smile, so he would not have to read into it.
“The one you like so much.”
Sarutobi left her sentence hanging in midair as she closed her eyes. Zenzou was waiting for her to finish what she said, but the only reply he received was the sound of the rain mixing with their breaths.
They did not say anything more on that day.
They were assigned another mission, and this time the Shogun specifically requested Sarutobi, so Zenzou needed to bring her in. He could feel a jumble of feelings in his heart when he heard about the assignment. He had a reason to get her involved, but this also meant putting her on the front line, exposed to danger. He was happy and worried at the same time.
Still, the worry could be settled. She would be with him, and as long as Hattori Zenzou was alive and breathing, he would never let anyone lay a dirty finger on Sarutobi Ayame. This would also be their first mission since the unfortunate rainy day incident. A little awkwardness had formed since then, and he was urged to do something to erase that.
A mission together was perfect. They could be together without talking too much and risk mentioning the awkward situation. He could create another mission-related memory with her - the one that did not involve any mention of his locked-up feelings.
He just did not expect it to turn out to be a speculation mission. They were required to sit still on a rooftop and keep eyes on a suspect. Treason, or whatever the fuck it was, Zenzou did not really pay attention when the crime was brought up. His mind was too busy on her, and on how the hell he was going to survive a whole day on the rooftop with her, alone.
Luck was not on his side this time, as Zenzou realized that the rooftop they were sitting on was far from everyone's hearing. It meant talking did not affect the mission. Unless the suspect made a critical, dramatic, undeniably treacherous move, he would be stuck in conversations with her.
Not that Zenzou hated talking to Sarutobi. He would kill for a long chat with her. They were never out of topics to talk about. A mere mention of his father, of Gintoki, of the Yorozuya, or some random stranger that both of them found funny could lead to endless conversations. No, it was not the talking he feared.
It was the talking about the rainy day incident that made him shiver. If she ever brought that up, eventually he would either slip something that wrecked whatever relationship they had together or did something stupid that ruined his life altogether. Something very extreme, like aborting the mission, running away, moving to another planet, never seeing her again, and dying alone.
“Assign a short-sighted ninja for a speculation, how stupid your Shogun can be?”
Zenzou looked at her. They were sitting on the two ends of the roof, partially for a broader vision, partially because Zenzou was afraid he would chicken out and blurted something inappropriate. But now she was standing by his side, and he felt his heart jump up as if it had decided to move to his throat and stay there permanently.
“Sometimes he’s like that. But he always has his reason. I stopped questioning him after a while because everything will make sense in the end.” He chuckled to hide his swallow. He was not sure if a swallow helped to put his heart back in its place, but he could not do anything else.
“Not everyone has someone trusting them at that level. Especially a monarch.”
“He’s a friend. I don’t see him as a monarch. Friends trust each other.”
“Like us, right, Hattori?”
Zenzou blinked. Not so many people called him by his real name, and Sarutobi was one of them. Still, it was strange to hear his name coming from her. She rarely addressed him by his real name, and when it came to the situation where she had to refer to him as something, Sarutobi always chose the “hemorrhoid ninja.”
He loved the way his name danced on her lips, however. He wished it happened more often. He wished it happened in different contexts. He knew it would be stupid to pin on such a hope. She was his friend, and he could not risk losing it by asking for more.
He turned to look at her, at the exact same time caught her gaze on him. Her eyes sparkled behind the glasses as she leaned over, and her breath engulfed him in a warm, soothing atmosphere.
“Indeed.” He said. The fear filled his heart, and he instinctively took a step back. “I trust you. You are my friend.” He carefully chose the words.
Friend, he thought, feeling his heart clench.
“Friend,” she said with a firm nod, making his heart clench.
“What, don’t you think of me as a friend?” He asked, trying to sound playful.
“Of course I do. But do you really ?”
Zenzou forgot how to blink. He was lucky to have such a thick fringe covering his eyes because his iris just popped out of his head. Sarutobi would freak out if she saw that.
“And what do you mean by it?”
“Do you really think of me as a friend, Hattori?” She took a step toward him, closing their distance. In that split second, Zenzou felt like he should not step back. His heart pranced loudly in his chest, trying to drown the fear, telling him to stay where he was. His arms tingled with the urge to reach up and embrace her in a warm hug.
No, I don’t.
“I can’t say so,” he swallowed and let the first words on his tongue slip.
“Then what do you think of me?”
Zenzou could feel his cheeks getting hot. His right arm, perhaps no longer able to resist the urge, lifted up. He wanted to reach for her, to hold her. He wanted to press her against his chest, stroke her hair, and tell her the throbbing words that had been haunting his heart for ages.
But he could not.
The fear, again, won over his heart, right at the moment his hands almost touched her side. Memories flashed back in his head. The first time they met. Her smile. The way she was so gentle toward him, no matter how annoying his hemorrhoid problems were. Their time chatting, laughing, and casually throwing kunai at the Oniwabanshu just because they could do it.
Could they still do it after he confessed?
Could they keep the relationship as they were?
Could they still be comfortable around each other?
And what would happen if someday they fell out of love?
There were too many risks to take. And Zenzou was a coward. So he folded his arms up to his head and made a call to the walky-talky.
“I saw the suspect talking to a man. Pretty sure he was Joui. This is evidence. Attack.”
The mission failed miserably that day. It turned out their suspect was only talking to a merchant who was not from the neighborhood. They found no evidence that could tie him to the Joui, or any other kind of terrorist organization. The man became aware of the Oniwabanshu, and they ended up getting no more information from him. The investigation was frozen.
And so was Zenzou’s heart.
There were days when Zenzou had nothing to do. On such rare occasions, he let his thoughts scatter all over the place and wander to whatever crazy places his mind randomly came up with. Today was one of those days. Today was the time he, again, thought about fear.
The thing about hemorrhoids did not count, because it was more like physical pain, and he had soon been used to it. He hated it but did not fear it. The same logic applied to other illnesses, physical injuries, death, and other bad things that happened to the body.
Zenzou held onto the belief that the body was but a shell keeping the soul intact, which would sooner or later be severed, either by the cruelty of time, or the atrocity of the human race. Physical pains only left marks on the worthless shell, so he would not bother to waste energy thinking about them.
He put all of his efforts into taking care of what was underneath, what would become immortal once the shell withered. His soul. He knew fear left marks on the souls. Ugly, painful, unerasable marks. Most of the time, the marks were permanent, serving as eternal reminders of the living world's abomination.
He never wanted his soul to carry such horrible things when it was immortalized, hence he made a vow to never let fear affect him. And he thought he had been doing well until he realized that his fear was never about the enemies, or the battlefields, or anything visible and touchable.
His fear was about what was inside his head, lying among his complex feelings. His fear was the feelings he had, for a particular, strong, powerful, brilliant, dazzling, lovely woman. His fear was his obsession over the iris that only grew on dryland.
He never knew the reason he fell for her. Sarutobi was never his type. Zenzou had a particular type that most people called “fuglies,” although he would argue that they were exquisite in their extraordinary, unconventional way. Sarutobi was not like that. He had seen other men praise her beauty, and she was considered “conventionally” beautiful.
Still, there were more reasons to be in love with someone than appearance. Their personality. Their laughs. Their internal power. Their shithead and its amazing ideas. Their gentleness and tolerance. And sometimes there was no reason at all. It just happened.
What he knew for a fact was that his heart skipped a beat every time he saw her. Ever since Zenzou learned about the taste of unrequited love, the beat was lost for good. And he did not even bother to bring it back. Unless Sarutobi Ayame realized his feelings and returned it, Zenzou’s missing heartbeat forever lay in her hands.
“Boss, there’s an emergency.”
Zenzou turned to the voice at his office door, and could not help a groan. He just realized he locked the door without closing it. His head was messy, and sometimes he forgot to do the minor yet crucial things to secure his solidarity. Closing the door was one. Locking the door was another. Locking without closing was a disaster.
And that gave the uncultured swine that barged into his office with such audacity the false hope that Zenzou wanted to talk to him, or to talk, to anyone, at all. The worst of it was that the fault was on him. Because he was stupid enough to not close a locked door, now he had to deal with EmErGeNcY.
“Spit, Gou,” he said nonchalantly, paying Gou no attention.
He hoped it was not a serious matter and Gou was just overreacting. Zenzou had planned to use his rare relaxing moments of having no assignments to give his mind a trip to the land of trivial thoughts and bullshit philosophy. Now even that pathetic plan was about to be ruined. And by what? An emergency?
God, why can’t people live and die on their own?
“There was a fight between the ninja and the Amanto near Kabuki-chou.”
“Yes?” Zenzou tried to hide the sigh in his voice. And what the fuck does it even have to do with me?
“It wasn't us, don't worry. It was a temporary group of assassins. I think someone paid them to attack the Amanto.”
“Go on.” What the fuck does it even have to do with any of us?
“The Amanto lost, but the ninja were injured.”
“That sounds terrible?” Again, they could bleed to death and I don’t give a hemorrhoid.
“One of the injured…you know her.”
“Who’s that?” I know a lot of people, and I wish most of them died. Big flash news.
“Sarutobi Ayame.”
“I kn–”
Sarutobi Ayame.
Zenzou’s train of sarcastic thoughts crashed. It could be a blocked tunnel or a big rock that suddenly appeared, but Zenzou felt like the name sounded more like a bomb that destroyed the railways completely, throwing his rhetoric train off the track. He almost spitted out the last words as a force of habit when he listened to Gou’s babbling, but he stopped in time.
It was not any random name. It was her name. And it went with the word injured.
He wished he could punch Gou in the face, hard enough to send the man flying around the Earth three, no, thirty times, for babbling nonsense instead of going straight into what mattered. He wished he could be there when Gou's hypothetical flight around the world finally stopped, so he could grab that stupid shithead's ass and stuff hemorrhoids in his face.
He did not have time to care about Gou, however. His mind was on Sarutobi. He had not seen her for months. It was not unusual, considering the nature of their jobs. But now the first thing he had heard about her, after one hundred and eighty-four days, no more, no less, was that she was hurt.
Zenzou stood up at the speed he never thought he possessed, considering the situation of his butt and hemorrhoids. Perhaps the power of whatever kind of relationship he thought he had with Sarutobi was the thing that made him forget the pain temporarily.
“Where is she now?” He could feel his question lost in the huffs.
“In the hospital, boss.”
Zenzou almost bumped into Tsukuyo when he arrived. She looked like she was in a rush, and hastily waved at him as she sprinted further into the crowd at the hospital entrance. Zenzou wondered what kind of situation put her here, but he soon brushed it off.
Tsukuyo's presence was not Zenzou’s major concern at the moment. His head was occupied by Sarutobi. They did not normally go to the hospital (Zenzou was an exception due to his specific butt condition), so whatever kind of wound Sarutobi was suffering from was severe enough to require professional involvement.
Please be safe.
“Which room is Sarutobi Ayame?”
“Sorry, sir, we cannot disclose such infor–” The nurse said without looking at him.
“For God’s sake, Uchino, I’m Hattori Zenzou. You are familiar with my butt. And you know Sarutobi as well. I need to see her. I need to know about her condition.”
“Zenzou-sama–"
“Please!”
The nurse seemed to give in to his persuasion.
“Room 401. She’s not in danger, there were only mi–”
But Zenzou was no longer there to listen to the rest of her sentence. His feet seemed to have a soul of their own, and before he could realize what he was doing, Zenzou found himself panting heavily in front of Room 401. His heart was jumping in his chest, and his stomach churned in worry.
Please be safe.
“Sarutobi?” He walked in, for the first time not sure what to do with his legs.
He wanted to rush to her side, cup her face in his hands to check if there was any wound, bury his face in her hair, feel her breath over his skin, and tell her that everything would be alright because he was here now and he had sworn on his life to keep her safe.
But he also did not dare to make any sudden, dramatic move. She could be in recovery and she needed some peaceful rest. He was afraid that if he walked too fast, or moved too loud, the quietness needed would be disturbed, and if anything bad happened as the result it would be on him. He could not risk hurting the woman he loved with reckless actions.
So he took an awkwardly long walk, which surely looked weird to anyone that happened to pass by Room 401 at that time, clumsily dragging his body inside the room. It was not hard for a ninja like him to walk swiftly and quietly without doing a weird pose, and yet at this very moment, Zenzou’s body seemed to forget that it belonged to the greatest ninja of Edo.
Sarutobi suddenly opened her eyes and looked at him as Zenzou was halfway there. She looked puzzled, and Zenzou did not know if it was because of his ridiculous posture and his absurd long walk, or if it was due to whatever wound she had on her head.
“Hey, are you ok?” He grinned at her, trying to make whatever he was doing look as natural as possible.
“I’m fine. Just some minor scratches. But Tsukky insisted I go to the hospital for a checkup. I just need some rest now. Are you ok, though? It looked like your hemorr–”
“I’m fine, let’s not talk about it now,” he gave her an assuring smile, “just…trying to take a long walk. To measure my steps.”
He could see Sarutobi raise an eyebrow, but then she looked like she did not want to get involved in whatever stupid kind of bizarre experience Zenzou was doing. She just sat up, leaning her back against the bedboard, and smiled in his direction.
Despite the scratches and her tired features, Sarutobi looked fine. She was conscious, with no sign of mental damage. No bandages on her body, at least on the visible spots, and no peeping machine. She also could sit up without help. This assured his heart, and Zenzou could finally shoo his horrible imagination away.
Sarutobi’s smile did not fade, and not until now did he realize a strange sparkle in her eyes. They have known each other for most of his life, and he could swear that he had never seen the sparkle before. He also realized that her cheeks were blushing, and her gaze was now on someone behind him.
The smile was not meant for him, was it?
Zenzou turned in time to see another figure walking into the room. Tall. Blonde. Kunai for hairpins. Scars on her forehead and left eye. Fiery look. He knew her name. They just bumped into each other a few moments ago at the hospital entrance. He just wondered why she was here. Now he knew. But he was not sure if he liked the reason.
“They don’t have the natto you like in the convenience store, so I had to go a few blocks away. Do you want me to stir it for you?"
"Please?" Sarutobi looked at her. Her eyes sparkled with joy. No, both their eyes sparkled with joy.
"You have some more rest. The doctor said the wound was not severe, but we better be extra careful." Tsukuyo walked closer, putting the bag on the table by the bed, and gently placed a kiss on Sarutobi's forehead. "The natto is ready in a moment."
“You have spoiled me, babe.”
Babe.
“You have met Zenzou, haven’t you?” Sarutobi turned to him, and Zenzou suddenly wished he could swallow his own tongue.
“I have. He was there in the Jiraia incident. Can’t say we like each other, but he’s helpful.”
“He’s my childhood friend.” Sarutobi giggled.
“Good. I’ll learn to like him from now on.”
Zenzou did not remember what kind of excuse he made before he left the hospital. He did not remember how he had gotten home. When his mind finally returned to him, he found himself lying on his bed, in his gloomy apartment. It was night already. A full moon night.
Zenzou never thought he could hate the moon. He once thought the moon was the cure for both the pains in his life and the pain in his ass. Now the moon to him looked like a pain in the ass.
The suspect they followed earlier finally struck, and it was Zenzou’s fault. His reckless call for the attack had led to the man’s extra cautions, which in turn made it harder to investigate him. For almost a year, they had gathered no significant information. Now, just right before the Shogun decided perhaps they had got the wrong guy, the man suddenly made his move.
And it was a nasty move.
He had planted a bomb inside the city, using a huge amount of explosives purchased from the Amanto. When they found out about that, it was too late. The bomber had committed seppuku right after announcing the existence of the bomb.
The Oniwabanshu found materials and substances in the bomber's house, confirming that he was speaking the truth. But Zenzou could tell by the gaze one split second before the bomber's death, that he was not lying.
Although they were plunged into a wild goose chase from the start by suspecting the bomber had ties with the Joui (while they should have taken a look at the Amanto instead), Zenzou still felt like he had a big share in this disaster.
But it was not the time to point fingers. If he wanted to make up for his stupid mistake, he needed to act quickly.
As they did not know the exact location and the range of the bomb, any part of the city would now be in serious danger. The Shogun had decided to evacuate the whole city just to be safe.
All of the ways leading out of Edo were open. Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi were mobilized. One aided the evacuation. The other was in charge of helping the Oniwabanshu find the bomb. Some of the great houses in Edo also sent forces to help.
Although the plan was going smoothly, Zenzou knew that they could never vacate the whole city in time. By the remaining materials, they had deduced that the bomb would explode in the span of a day from when it was planted, and they already wasted half of the day chasing the bomber. The only way to save everyone was to find and defuse the bomb before it exploded.
“Where should we start searching?” Nobume’s voice shrugged Zenzou out of his own thoughts. He looked up and caught her gaze. The Mimawarigumi officer looked stern as ever, but he knew her mind was not at ease. He could read his worry reflecting on her face.
"The Yagyuu are familiar with the southern part of the city, we can do the search there," Kyubei added. Zenzou was surprised to see the Yagyuu sent their heir on this mission. She (or he?) sounded calm, but Zenzou knew the situation enough to tell only a maniac would be able to remain calm.
“You can choose areas, and the Oniwabanshu will take over what remains.” He said in reply to both of them.
“You should be the one calling the shot, Zenzou. You are familiar with the culprit, anyway.”
Zenzou hummed. He knew Nobume did not mean it, because she did not even know what had happened on the day he called that false alarm. Still, her words were like a knife cutting through him. It reminded him that he was also the one behind this commotion. He was as much to be blamed as the bomber.
“We have the Ikeda clan coming to help, boss,” Wakikaoru ran into the room with a puzzled smile drawn on her face. “The Yorozuya and some people from Kabuki-chou are out there with them, too.”
“They should be leaving the city.” Kyubei gave her a glaring look. “What are they thinking? They could die if the bomb explodes. Tell them to leave, now.”
“I don’t think you can,” Zenzou shook his head, grabbing Kyubei's shoulder. “You know how stubborn these people are. And besides, we do need more eyes.”
“What happens if they die in the explosion?” He could feel Nobume’s eyes burning on him. “Can you take responsibility?”
“No, I can’t, because I would be dead with them.”
“Then what’s even the point–”
“But we will not let it happen.” He said firmly, then turned to his subordinate.
“Waki, take the Oniwabanshu to the west side of the city and direct the Ikeda to the north."
His eyes darted to the samurai.
"The Yagyuu will be in charge of the south, and the Mimawarigumi the east. We are looking for a Justaway the size of a teddy bear. Be sure to look carefully.”
“And who will search underground? The drainage system of this city can be a place to hide a bomb.” Waki asked.
“The Kabuki-chou people. They have a dog and a Yato. Also, their robot girl can help.”
“Got it. Do you have anything else to say?”
“Yes. Please tell everyone to inform me when any of you find the bomb. I’ll be there to help you defuse it.”
“We have an expert in the Mimawarigumi.” Nobume looked at him. "We can do it on our own."
“I know. But I want to be there. You can start without me, but please let me be there. I was responsible for this commotion, I should be there when it ends.”
“Sure.”
Kyubei nodded and left. Nobume looked like she wanted to say more, but chose not to instead. The Mimawarigumi officer nodded at Zenzou, then threw him a sharp glance before following Kyubei to the door. Her glance sent chills down Zenzou's spine. He knew what she meant by it.
If you fail, I’ll hunt you down in your next life.
“What are you going to do, boss?” Waki asked after Nobume was gone.
“I’ll go with the Oniwabanshu, as usual. We don’t have as many people, so my speed can be of help. But you guys go ahead. I need to make a phone call first. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
Zenzou ran to a corner where he knew nobody could see him. He had to press his hand on his chest to stop the frantic huffing. The time was tight, but there was something he needed to do before it was too late. He might go to hell after this mission, and he could not bear the idea of going there without talking to Sarutobi for the last time.
He knew she was still in the city, somewhere. Most of the shitheads he had known for his whole life in Edo were here. The sadistic Nobume, the annoying Kyubei, the Ikeda's Deaths, his Oniwabanshu, the Kabuki-chou dumbasses. And Zenzou himself was a shithead. It was only logical to assume that another shithead was also here.
And it was very out of her character to stay away when everybody was having such an epic mission.
He needed to know where she was, and he needed to contact her. He would not tell her to come to safety, because he had no right, considering what he planned to do next. Also, he knew it would be impossible. Sarutobi would never flee the city, especially when her friends were staying and trying to save it.
He would probably die. According to his calculation, it may not take a lot of time for that many people to find the bomb, but the problem was what would happen after they found it. In the worst-case scenario, they may find the bomb but not have enough time to deal with it. That was when the situation called for a sacrifice.
Zenzou had told everyone to inform him as soon as they found the bomb. He did not tell them his intention, however. He knew he was the only one able to run from one side of the city to another in a blink of an eye, so he was the only one that could be there immediately when the bomb was discovered, no matter where it was. That made him the only one suitable for this suicide mission.
If they did not have enough time to defuse the bomb, he would take it in. He would use his body to shield the explosion. He was not sure how much he could do with such a desperate method, but it would be better than nothing. He would die, but it would not be the most meaningless death in the history of hemorrhoid ninjas.
In other words, Zenzou’s plan for the worst-case scenario necessarily included him dying. And as the possibility for the worst-case scenario to happen was alarmingly high, he wanted to hear Sarutobi’s voice one more time before his soul left its disposable shell and traveled to wherever Imai Nobume had threatened to hunt him down.
Zenzou pressed the emergency call button on his phone and waited. He closed his eyes and imagined her face. Her glasses. Her eyes. Her hair. Her figure. He felt like he could hear her ringtone in the air. It was a stupid Otsu song she put in for no particular reason. He could hear her voice right beside him.
“There is no time for daydreaming, Hattori. Open your eyes.”
Zenzou opened his eyes.
She was there with him. She was real.
Sarutobi was standing in front of him. The setting sun enveloped her in various shades of orange. The wind ruffled through her hair and lifted it up, casting a trail of purple that stood out against the background of sunset.
The city was in chaos, but her presence soothed his unsettled mind and embraced him with peace.
“Sarutobi?” Zenzou dropped his phone, and suddenly he was at a loss for words. He was expecting to only listen to her voice before sacrificing himself, but perhaps fate was kinder to him than he thought.
He was seeing her, for real, in person, in the most magnificent sunset of his life, and it would be the last scene he enjoyed before his death. What else could he ask for?
“Why aren’t you with the Oniwabanshu?” Sarutobi asked.
“I was about to. I just have some personal matters to tend to.”
“Are you done?”
“Yes, I think.”
“Then we should get going.” She said, then turned around.
“Wait, Sarutobi. I–” Zenzou’s voice suddenly broke, and he reached up before thinking. He grabbed her wrist, making Sarutobi turn back to look at him. Their gaze met. The remaining light of the sunset flashed in her eyes, and suddenly he felt it hard to speak.
“What?”
“I–”
He stumbled, and as he was about to say something, he saw several shadows appear behind her. At that moment, Zenzou realized Sarutobi did not come alone. More and more shadows showed up. Geisha wearing masks. Hyakka.
He could see a slender figure wearing black walking toward her. He did not need to look twice to know it was the moon that brought the sparkles of joy to his iris. Tsukuyo.
“What are you still doing here?" Tsukuyo asked.
"What are you doing here? The Yoshiwara has a cover that can shield you from the explosion. You should be down there." Zenzou squinted at her as he let go of Sarutobi.
"Trust me, I would. But I can't leave Ayame, and she insisted on staying and finding you. Some of the ladies follow me. We think you might need some help.”
"We do."
“So, you know the situation. The Hyakka will be at your command until the mission is over.”
“Good,” Zenzou hummed, “the Oniwabanshu could use some extra hands. They are on the west side of the city now. You need to find a Justaway the size of a teddy bear. We should move at once.”
Tsukuyo threw him an assuring nod, then called out for her subordinates, telling them to prepare to go. Sarutobi looked like she was about to follow her girlfriend, when, all of the sudden, she stopped and turned to Zenzou.
“Do you have something you wanted to tell me?”
“It was nothing. I just wanted to say–” Zenzou shrugged. He looked at Tsukuyo, then darted his eyes back to Sarutobi. He wanted to tell her his feelings, but he was scared. The few seconds of courage had passed, and he was consumed again by his fear.
This time, he was afraid that he would ruin her relationship. He knew the look in Tsukuyo’s eyes. He saw it in the mirror every day, more vivid when his mind was solely occupied by Sarutobi. He knew she loved Sarutobi as much as he did. He knew Sarutobi deserved someone who loved her and was never afraid to let her know that.
Sarutobi deserved someone who was not him.
With these thoughts in mind, he turned to her, smiled, and said.
“Stay safe.”
“You too. I’ll pluck your eyes out if you die."
“The drink is on me tonight. We just completed a terrible mission. Let’s celebrate.”
Zenzou raised the toast with his team, then let the party continue as he found a couch in a quiet corner to sit down. It was a terrible mission, and he could still feel his hair stand up recalling the details, but they were lucky that everyone was there to help.
As their search started at the important spots that officials and monarchs regularly visit, most of them failed to locate the bomb. It was the Yorozuya's idea that they should start looking at insignificant places as well. The Yato brat was the one who found the bomb. It was stuffed under a drain in a slumdog of Kabuki-chou, a place that held no value whatsoever.
It was almost midnight when the bomb was discovered. Zenzou rushed there immediately as he received the message from the Yorozuya, but luckily he did not have to use the desperate method.
Apparently, the bomb was made with Amanto technology, which could be connected to the robot girl of the Yorozuya. She simply told it to shut down, and it followed without a question.
It was still bizarre to recall the process. At one moment, everything was so intense, and then the next moment they just performed the classical cheesiest in the history of cheesiness - the talk-no-jutsu - and everything suddenly was not so intense anymore.
The fact that they literally talked a bomb into defusing itself was amusing and amazing at the same time. It was for sure a scene straight up from a Jump manga, and something that Zenzou never thought he could witness in real life.
He could not help a quiet laugh as he recalled everyone’s face when they were informed of the situation. Except for the Yorozuya, who had already known about the robot’s ability, everyone looked like they all had hemorrhoids stuffed into their asses. Everyone, including the stone-cold Imai Nobume, the calm Yagyuu Kyubei, the stern Tsukuyo, and the I-ain't-give-no-shit Ikeda Asaemon.
“Can I sit here?” A voice called out to Zenzou, and he looked up to see a smiling face with tons of makeup on it. It startled him for a second, and then he recognized the familiar tone. He could not help a smile, and scoot aside, leaving space for his companion.
“What’s with the makeup? It looks terrible.”
“I can’t find anyone to do it, and I really want to go. I have to use whatever I have and put it on myself. Does it look that bad?”
“I almost did not recognize my best friend.”
“Then it worked just fine. I don’t want anyone to recognize me, either.”
They exchanged knowing smiles, and Zenzou raised his toast to his companion. The other man picked up his glass and chugged all of the content in one go.
“Edo will be back to normal tomorrow.”
“It was never abnormal to me, though. The bomb. The commotion. The everlasting disaster. Isn’t this city always like that?”
“You’re right. As long as these people are here, it is always like that.”
They smiled, and then leaned back on the couch, watching their friends making jokes out of themselves. Gintoki was throwing up at the far end of the room, with the robot girl pouring oil down his head. The Yato girl was throwing darts at her glasses brother. Nobume joined her after a while. The Yagyuu and the Ikeda appeared to be in a serious fight, which more or less had something to do with the Hyakka geishas standing nearby.
The scene before their eyes was truly a living example of when a catastrophe and a commotion had a child. A true disaster.
His gaze drifted back to the crowd, and, as a force of habit, fixed on a particular figure. Long, purple hair. Glasses. Unique shinobi outfit. Dazzling. Beautiful. Extra-ordinary. Out of his reach.
She was the woman he had called when he knew the situation was tight. Not just because he trusted in her ability - he did, she was the only shithead he ever trusted with such a mission - but also because he thought that he would actually die out there. And he did not want to die without seeing her one last time.
It was Sarutobi that saved Zenzou from dying, although it would be a long reach to come to this conclusion. But he liked to think of it that way, and he knew he could not think of it any otherwise. His best thoughts were always with her, for her, on her, and specifically, dedicatedly, carved for her sake.
“What are you looking at?” His companion asked, startled Zenzou. He sighed. He had forgotten, for a moment, that he had a very wise companion who could detect what was going on inside someone's head. Not that he minded the man, but he was afraid that his companion could find out about all of the feelings he had stored there.
“Nothing,” Zenzou grumbled, and darted his eyes away, pretending to keep his gaze fixed on nothing, acting like his eyeballs did not roll on themselves and daze back onto one particular woman.
But perhaps it was too late. He could feel the other man's gaze following his own, as his companion gave him an understanding nod.
“It always amazes me how you can never bring yourself to tell her.”
“What are you saying now?” Zenzou looked at his companion, trying to sound indifferent and calm. He was not.
"You don't have to pretend when you're with me. I knew it from the start. We're best friends."
Zenzou sighed. It seemed like there was no point in hiding it anymore. His companion was wise enough to tell everything from the start.
“Do you know why I specifically asked for her in that speculation?” The man suddenly asked.
“I was wondering the same.”
“Because she is a good ninja. And because I want you to have a chance to be alone with her.”
The man said it with such a calm tone as if he was talking about the weather. However, it was enough to make Zenzou’s cheeks fluster with heat.
“What now?”
“I know you have feelings for her. I wanted to play matchmaker, so I arranged this mission. I did not expect you to use that method to get away from it, though. I’m sorry, Zenzou.”
“So it was the purpose all along," Zenzou chuckled. "I always wonder what you have in your mind."
"Weird shits, most of the time."
"This country is doomed, it seems. Their leader has weird shits in his mind."
"I know. But I know that the leader's most loyal friend won't let it happen."
Silence again, but Zenzou did not mind. It did not bother him, either, to know that his companion had been aware of his feelings all along. He knew he could not hide them forever, and it was better to have his best friend, rather than any of the shitheads out there, found out.
"I have to say I'm amazed." Zenzou took a sip from his drink as he slowly talked to his companion.
"About?" The man raised an eyebrow at him, but Zenzou was not really sure if he did, or if it was just a very badly drawn eyebrow.
"You managed to figure it out." Zenzou chuckled. "I think I hid it pretty well."
"It's not that hard if you pay enough attention. Everything is written all over your face. Especially when you are with her."
"And yet the other people don't know, mind you," Zenzou laughed. "Don't be so modest and just take the credit. Or are you implying that nobody's ever paid enough attention to me?"
"Precisely. Because you've barely paid them enough attention." His companion smiled, but Zenzou could hear a faint sigh. "You were always too caught up in your feelings, you forgot that everyone has their own. All it takes are a few moments to step back and notice, to tell what they have in mind. But you didn't do any of that. That's why you never know anyone's feelings. Including hers."
Zenzou did not say anything to the man's words. It was not because he disagreed with him, but more likely because the man had just told him exactly what he had been hiding away from.
Zenzou did not notice Sarutobi's feelings because he was too afraid to do it. He was afraid that he may have found a sign that gave him hope. He did not know what to do with it, and he was afraid that the hope would turn out false. He was afraid that he may act according to false hope, and the consequences would be irreversible.
Just like the day at the hospital, when he wanted to rush to her side, hug her, and promise her that he would keep her safe, but ended up doing neither of that and eventually turning himself into a joke. That specific moment was the best recap of Zenzou's obsession. He never dare to make a move, despite how much he wanted it, and he ended up losing her, consequently.
He thought he was brave, but he was, in fact, a coward who chickened out at his own feelings.
“Do you know why Sarutobi gets together with Tsukuyo instead of you?” His companion asked. "Because–"
“I do. As a matter of fact, I do." Zenzou cut him off without hesitation. The answer had always been in his head. He felt like his companion was about to say it for him, but he needed to speak it out for himself.
"Because Tsukuyo actually asked.”
-Fin-