Chapter Text
He's not stupid. And contrary to popular belief, he's not weak either. He knows this as certainly as he knows anything, the mantra a core part of who he is. He reaffirms this belief every morning, stamping his pride into churning muscles and sweat-soaked skin.
I am worth the effort this takes, he thinks, pushing himself forever onward. I am strong in mind and in body. I am worthy. I am enough.
It seems like such a simple thing to believe, but Maito Gai has had to fight through fire to hold this inside of him and keep it. This fight never stops, never relents.
It starts when his father is young. The youngest son in a clan of no great importance, conscripted to the Ninja Academy with no great fanfare. He was proud to go, even if it meant leaving his family behind. Their little farm was too far from the Hidden Leaf village, and ultimately Maito Dai was insignificant. He was moved without a thought, ripped from a family compound filled with a family that loved him, and tossed into the Konoha war machine.
Maito Dai never forgets them. He meets a lot of new people, friends and enemies alike. He learns to love anew, learns to grow in the harsh soil. Like a weed, some sneer, but he pays them no mind.
He learns that his situation is somewhat unique. Hardly any of his fellows have ever known the love that comes with a pack, a family unconcerned with war. Sure, the great ninja clans have loyalty to one another. The taint of politics seems into their bonds like poison, turning brother against brother. Maito Dai sees this so clearly. He sees this and understands.
This is no accident. This is the precedent set forth by the Hidden Leaf's venerated founders. This was the inevitable outcome when Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara first fought to their deaths. This is what the village has always been, and what it may always be.
He vows to never become like this. The ghosts of his older siblings press around him, shielding him from what they can. Reminding him that he doesn't have to live and die for the sake of Konoha. He has something else, his own hidden fire.
He guards this fire with his life. He nurtures it, coaxes it to a blaze. He serves the village with pride, but he knows they can tell he hasn't surrendered his heart to them.
They hate him for it.
It starts off subtle enough. Stares, little comments about his odd manner and appearance. Why does he insist on wearing that? They whisper. Does he think he's too good for our uniform?
With that haircut? And they snicker, and Maito Dai pretends not to hear.
He can barely do ninjutsu, they say. It may be true. He's always felt his Chakra in his flesh, in the muscles and body. His blood sings to him. He becomes a practitioner of taijutsu, finding nearly no mentorship in this path. It's seen as old fashioned, as hokey.
Trust some backwater country pumpkin to believe taijutsu can make up for being worthless, they say.
Maito Dai is not worthless. He has a family that loves him.
Even if they're gone.
Eventually, he gets a piece of it back.
A young woman from a neighboring farm moves in to Konoha one day. Her mother and father have finally made enough profit to hire farm hands to tend to the family land, and move to Konoha to sell their produce directly. No more middle men cutting into their profits.
They recognize each other right away. Maito Dai does nothing. He doesn't want his own reputation staining hers. His refusal to take the chunin exams has done yet more damage.
She finds him instead.
I always liked your mother, she says, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm as he shops. His eyes widen.
Me, too, he says. She laughs.
I like your mother, too, he says back. I'm glad to have her here. You must be very excited.
She looks around furtively. Maybe, she says. Her eyes flash dangerously, gleaming with thoughts unsaid.
He meets her gaze head on.
They see it in each other, then. Something shared, something potent. Something the village can never take from them.
Gai loves hearing this story. His mother looms in his life, a comforting ghost. Like his father's family before him, she serves as a constant reminder that he is more than what he can do for the village. He is someone's son.
Tell me about mama, he begs his father.
She was so smart, and so beautiful. A pained, wistful smile always follows. She came here from the country, just like me. She was like a piece of home. We found a new home together.
Their love had been fiery, real and true. The village elders hadn't exactly objected, but he knew they were displeased. They didn't want him to have anything else to live for, after all. But, as her father had agreed to their union enthusiastically, they couldn't refuse. Maybe, to them, it was worth giving him something to die for.
They marry. They build a life together. She tends to her farm stall, he refuses time and time again to take the chunin exams. She makes more than enough for both of them, and her father pays him generously when he also tends to the stall.
That's not why he doesn't, of course.
He tells the village that he knows he can't pass. His Eight Gates technique isn't exactly a secret, but it's not highly regarded. He works on it mostly in hiding, not wanting to share how powerful it can be.
It scares him sometimes. It makes him feel like a leaf in a hurricane, torn free and uncontrollable power churning around him. The power unleashed tears through him like fire, burning him in its wake. Each gate unlocked tears him apart more and more, until he gets to the seventh.
This is the one. He can barely contain it. He doesn't use it as much as it moves him, a hurricane and predator rolled into one. A sentient storm, content to take him along for a ride. He knows with certainty that unlocking the next one will kill him. He almost wants to, just to see what he can do with it before it snuffs him out like a candle.
Asami tends to his wounds, brings him cool water for his burning flesh.
Why don't you take the chunin exams? She asks. She is curious, not judging. She expects nothing from him, she is merely grateful for what she gets. He'll live a lifetime trying to deserve her.
I don't know exactly, he says. I can't… give them any more of me than they already have. I need to stay my own man.
She understands him. They won't be fooled forever, she says. Someday they'll find out.
I know.
What will they do to you?
It's a horrible thought. He'll never prove this, but they both believe that the ‘rogue ninja’ attack that snuffed out the light of his family was no accident. At best, Konoha stood by and let it happen. They didn't want them exerting any control over one of their weapons.
At worst…
They have no idea that he carries their love deep inside him, somewhere they will never be able to touch. They have no idea what it feels like to carry love at all.
Asami understands. She loves him all the more deeply for it. Eventually, she carries his love inside her too.
They call their son Gai. He's a happy baby, cherished by his mother and his father. His grandparents dote on him, constantly happening by to coo and cluck at him.
Maito Dai is terrified for him. His son, another weapon of Konoha. Another shinobi for them to use to its breaking point.
His terror is misplaced.
It happens suddenly. Gai is just shy of two years old when Asami and her parents are taking a trip back to their farm. They are waylaid. They don't ever make it.
Typically, high value merchants such as them are given a shinobi escort. Dai begs to go with them. They tell him that as a genin, he doesn't have the clearance for such a mission on his own. They tell him that he is worth less than no escort at all.
They tell him of their passing with a hard look in their eyes. Unsympathetic. Uncaring.
Of course they took her. They only allowed him to belong to her because they thought they could use that to control him. But then they had a son, a son who will inevitably be conscripted just like he was. Removing his other passions means he can be controlled by only Gai now, and it will be so much easier to have his controlling agent be a shinobi.
He misses her with all the fire in his body.
When Gai asks about her, he tells his son everything. Every dirty detail, including the village that threw her life away.
Why? Gai asks, eyes wide and tearful. Why do they hate us so much? Why did they hate mama?
They don't hate us, Dai tells him. Even if that might not be true.
They need us to have nothing to live for but them.
Gai doesn't fully understand. But he will someday.
My son, my fire… she loves you. She lives in your power of Youth, in your will of fire. Your heart will never forget what it felt like to have her, to be cherished by her. Her mama and papa love you, too. Can you feel it?
Gai puts his hand on his chest. His chakra sings.
Yes, papa.
The village certainly seems to hate them. They are mocked, ridiculed, jeered at. Some even pelt them with rotting vegetables. They sneer, Too weak to protect your own wife. Pathetic.
It's hard not to let this get to him. Maito Dai teaches his son the mantras that get him through it. He teaches his son to open his own gates.
Other than my love, it's all I have to pass down to you.
Gai never forgets what it feels like to be loved. Like his father before him, he feels the power of his loving family all around him.
When his father dies, Gai almost wants to die with him. It tears him apart. For a long time, he resents the village for taking away everything from him. His whole family. Everyone who ever loved him is gone.
His father's last message will linger with him forever. Nothing is ever promised to anyone, he says, and smiles a tearful smile. Everything we get is a gift. Never take anyone for granted.
I am not doing this for the village. I am doing this for you.
His final act of defiance. His way of going out on his own terms.
Gai takes the world by storm. He pushes himself to be his best, to be the best. He keeps up with his noble clan peers. He becomes a chunin in good time. The village whispers, at least this one is more useful than his father.
He isn't bothered by it. They'll never understand the strength it takes to live by your own will of fire.
He does his own version. His father was right about the shinobi never knowing a real love, a true love that one can hold in their heart. He does his best to change this.
He loves his fellow soldiers. He shows them kindness for its own sake. They are reluctant to accept it at first. They call him weird and loud, a crybaby. They call him weak and unbecoming.
He loves them anyway. He doesn't mind that he doesn't get that love back.
Love isn't promised to anyone. Anything he gets is a gift.