Chapter Text
The young man stood nervously in the old man’s office, sporadically clenching and unclenching his fists as he waited. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he made eye contact with the old man and cleared his throat, mostly as a form of ceremony.
“Lord Hokage . . . are you sure about this? They’re still children. They haven’t learned nearly enough to handle a trip like this. I mean, I suppose you could argue for a few exceptions in the established clans, but . . . I’d hardly call their education extensive regardless.”
The old man placed a pinch of tobacco slowly, methodically, into a long pipe. “Iruka, you act as though I’m sending your students into a warzone. Are the Hidden Sand not allies? Even if something adverse were to happen, there will be more than adequate protection for them.”
So named, Iruka sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know. Their village is run so differently. I’ve been there several times, and the people are . . . I don’t want to say they’re hostile, but living in a desert has hardened them. You know what the older generations think of us, don’t you?”
“You mean my generation?” the old man asked slyly, eyes twinkling; Iruka’s face reddened. “I understand your trepidation, but that is precisely why I think this visit will be beneficial for your class. It would do them well to see another shinobi village, especially one so vastly different from our own. They need to understand these things, safely.”
“It’s the safely part that I’m hung up on, sir.”
The old man smiled wryly. “You care about your students. It is an admirable quality, particularly in teachers. It is an indelible part of why you are so effective. Do not be so worried for the next generation, though, that you end up doing harm to yourself. Do try to remain calm, Iruka. Tense as you are right now, you will be much more likely to make mistakes. Mistakes you will surely regret. Have faith in yourself and your fellows. I do.”
Iruka forced himself to pull up a chair and sit down. He fidgeted, trying to follow his leader’s advice but failing rather spectacularly. Tapping a random rhythm on his knees, he said: “You said, when you first called for me, that there were two reasons you wanted my class to visit the Hidden Sand. I suppose one is for the learning experience. May I inquire as to the second?”
The old man struck fire to his pipe, took a long draw, and stood up. He began to pace behind his wide desk. “Well, Iruka . . . I ought not tell you this. Understand that, if I do, you will be entering into my confidence. If you would rather not, I wouldn’t judge you. Otherwise, know that what I tell you does not leave this room.”
Iruka nodded. “Please, Lord Hokage,” he said, “continue.”
“The second reason for this . . . excursion, if you like, is Naruto.”
“Naruto?” Iruka repeated, suddenly paying a lot more attention. “How so, sir?”
“Again: this information is classified. I expect you to treat it as gravely as anything I have ever told you. I give you one more chance to reconsider. Are you certain you are willing to make an oath?”
“I am, sir,” Iruka said. “I will speak not a single word of this conversation.”
The old man nodded. “My counterpart, the Fourth Kazekage, has had a second son in the past few years. Very, very few outsiders are aware of this fact. I am, in fact, one of only a handful. You, incidentally, are now another. He is of an age with Naruto, give or take a few months.”
“A second son,” Iruka repeated, sitting up straighter. He knew that the Kazekage had two children, Kankuro and Temari, both promising warriors, but a third? He wondered at the secrecy, but said nothing. He was quite sure he would find out more, if he just let the old man speak.
“His name is Gaara.”
Iruka hummed. “Gaara,” he said, testing the name on his tongue.
“At the time of his birth, young Gaara was chosen for a great honor. An honor he shares with our Naruto.” The old man leveled Iruka with a stern, searching look. “You understand what I infer, do you not, Iruka?”
“He’s a jinchuriki,” Iruka whispered.
“Correct.”
Iruka wasn’t what anyone would have called an expert on the tailed beasts, especially not the one-tailed Shukaku, the raccoon demon who was the Hidden Sand’s secret, volatile, shameful weapon. He knew that Shukaku was thought to be the weakest of all the Biju, but also the most unpredictable. The idea of sealing a demon into a human infant was blasphemous enough to most people, but Shukaku in particular . . . it sent a shudder down Iruka’s back.
“From what I have been able to glean,” the old man continued, “young Gaara has become rather unstable, and his powers are beginning to manifest in rather unfortunate ways. It seems he faces the same hardships as our Naruto does, but while Naruto has thus far managed to deflect his peers’ jabs and jibes with good humor, Gaara has begun to lash out.”
“I don’t suppose I’m surprised to hear that,” Iruka said.
“I think that Naruto and Gaara would benefit from meeting each other. Quite a lot, actually. Neither is fully aware of what it means, that they are jinchuriki, but they will understand one another. I believe that Naruto will be a good influence on Gaara, and that Gaara will permit Naruto to bond with someone who . . . intimately understands him. What one might call a win-win scenario.”
Iruka found himself nodding. “I understand,” he said. “I think you’re right. It’s . . . probably not the safest plan you’ve ever had, but safety is rare even in times of peace, isn’t it? It will be good for Naruto to meet someone like him. Also, if and when Naruto learns the truth about the Kyubi, which . . . I know we both hope for that not to be the case, at the very least not now . . . we have to be honest with ourselves about the possibility. It will be good for him to have someone to lean on.”
The old man nodded in turn. “Precisely,” he said. “I trust you see wisdom in my schemes now?”
Iruka chuckled. “I do, sir.”
“Good.” The old man sat back down at his desk and tapped his pipe in an ashtray. “You may leave, to go about your day, Iruka. Thank you for meeting with me. Do inform your students tomorrow about this little field trip. And . . . do make sure that Naruto is excited about it, won’t you?”
Iruka nodded. “I won’t have to work too hard,” he said. “He’s never been outside our village. Seeing the wider world will be exciting enough on its own. But I’ll . . . take steps to make sure of it.”
“That is very much appreciated, Iruka.”
Iruka stood from his seat and bowed. “Thank you for inviting me into your confidence, sir.”
Iruka turned and left the room, leaving the old man alone in his office.
Hiruzen Sarutobi leaned back in his chair and heaved a deep sigh. “I hope I don’t come to regret this,” he murmured to himself. “This will either be a boon to our alliance, or it will shatter it. It all depends on Gaara, I suppose. Let us hope reports of his insanity are overblown.”
A ring of smoke rose from Hiruzen’s pipe as he put it to his lips, floating above him for a moment before dispersing into nothingness. He’d calmed Iruka, but he’d done nothing for his own nerves in the process. If this didn’t work out . . .
War would be the least of his worries.