Chapter 2.4

Chapter 3.1

The shock of seeing the truth of my Maiar form so clearly would wear off soon, that much I knew. I was not yet strong enough, not yet completely in tune with my Maia self, that the effect of imposing my nature on others could last long. In fact, had Rasa not believed I wasn’t going to pose harm to him, it wouldn’t have worked at all.

In fact, if I had meaned to deceive him on even the slightest level, it wouldn’t have worked either. The reason why Mairon’s betrayal had, for a while, shaken the heavens, was because it truly was against an Ainur’s nature to deceive mortals for one’s own gain. The oath I had sworn, one that used Eru’s name, could not be uttered lightly. Its benefit was obvious – if said with the right intent, it would convey to the other your sincerity of purpose. If said falsely, it carried consequences.

I wasn’t sure if I understood them entirely, but I knew that not a single Ainur, Man, Elf, Dwarf, or any other being in Arda that had taken Eru’s name in vain had led a good life from that point.

I devoted three threads of thought to consolidating all the information I’d been able to garner so far – the metaknowledge I’d come into this world with, the conversations I’d had with Jun about the state of politics so far as he knew it, and whatever else I’d been able to observe so far. Two I kept trained on my surroundings in case things went south and I needed to bolt. I already knew what my exit plan was, but it wasn’t without its risks.

If Rasa reacted before I could, I’d be shut down. Plain and simple. I thought it unlikely given the sheer speeds I was capable of going, especially in short bursts and in the beginning, but I couldn’t rely on that knowledge as something foolproof.

I dismissed those thoughts, focusing back on the matter at hand. Rasa wasn’t on-board, per se, but the window of opportunity I’d created for myself had to be used. I’d earned enough goodwill with Gaara – and maybe Baki too, given how he’d jumped into the conversation – that I knew I could rely on him in the future, especially if I was in a situation where I needed an ally like a Jinchūriki. If I was able to coach him and Shukaku, who I doubted had ever had a perfect host before, through the process, I would have an immensely powerful ally.

And, I liked to think, a friend too.

With this many mental partitions running at the same time, I was able to think of each factor this conversation might hinge on simultaneously.

“Let’s begin with the Daimyo,”

Rasa’s eyes narrowed. Oh my. It seems I’d underestimated the man’s willpower. “What about him?”

Data: Rasa's tenure as Kazekage marked by economic and military challenges. Data: Rasa's wife's death. Analysis: Increased emotional detachment, affecting diplomatic and familial relationships. Rasa's decisions, influenced by village needs and personal losses, prioritized Sunagakure's security. Unknown factors: The full extent of Rasa's personal grief's impact on his leadership choices.

“Do you want my help or not?” I asked softly. At his silence, I continued. “Why did he pull your funding?”

“…he and I had a falling out, but nothing Suna can’t manage without.” Rasa finally said.

Data: Deteriorated relations with Wind Daimyo. Analysis: Personal conflicts with Rasa, perhaps exacerbated by his emotional state, leading to reduced missions and economic hardship for Sunagakure. Unknown factors: Precise nature of disagreements and potential opportunities for reconciliation. Data: Suna’s decline began a decade ago. Wind Daimyo died a few years back. Letter suggests problems continued. Inherited grudge? Stronger or weaker?

“Cut it,” I said firmly, exposing my true form for the barest second. A second was all I needed for now. “I don’t know the specifics, but I can guess as to why Suna’s funds are drying up. It isn’t just the Daimyo, that much I know.”

Information available: Iwa's border skirmishes with Suna. Analysis: Suna, viewed as Konoha's ally, faced resource draining conflicts, diverting attention from economic development. Unknown factors: Possible diplomatic solutions not explored, internal village dynamics during conflicts.

Rasa hesitated, glancing at Baki. I frowned. This was getting both of us nowhere. “My best guess,” I said carefully, “Is that your ‘falling out’ with the Daimyo coincided with increased raids from Iwagakure. The border skirmishes you’re having with them must be draining resources – you can’t fight a low-intensity conflict and still have enough manpower left over to make up for a loss in funds. Am I thinking along the right lines?”

The Suna-nin – including Gaara, I noted – jerked back. I smiled. Now I had them on the backfoot.

“…you’re significantly more well-informed than I was led to believe,” Rasa replied quietly.

“I catch on quick,” I said casually. Rasa frowned for a second, before sighing.

“I can’t deny what I’ve seen and I can’t deny that you’ve been helpful, but what you’re asking for isn’t information I can afford being leaked. In the wrong hands, it could be disastrous for Suna’s internal cohesion.”

Information available: Konoha accepting missions from Wind Daimyo. Hokage wouldn’t intentionally weaken their only ally in a weakened Konoha. Comparative: Konoha accepted additional missions because of urgent need. Post-Kyuubi crisis? Analysis: Potential lack of awareness of Suna's plight, contribution to Suna's economic struggles. Unknown factors: Rasa's internal deliberations on maintaining alliance despite resentment, potential communications between villages regarding this issue.

“It already is,” I stressed. “Do you think the world doesn’t see you weakening? Do you think it escaped your citizens’ notice that there just aren’t as many merchants or traders coming here? That they don’t gossip about how they see fewer and fewer ninjas around anymore? Or that critical infrastructure in the village isn’t repaired for ages?”

“And what would you have me do?” Rasa snapped, slamming his hands on the desk. I stayed still even as I applied another three shields onto myself. I wasn’t afraid of them, not anymore. Maybe that was overconfidence. Maybe I hadn’t earned it. But I was sick and tired of being heard but not listened to. Were all ninja this stubborn? This paranoid? “I am beset by enemies and false friends at all sides. I cannot afford to act one way or the other. All I have tried has failed to make more than a dent in our problems!”

“You ask for help,” I said gently. “I’m not asking you to go to the Daimyo, or even Konoha. I can bet that the Wind Daimyo’s just the sort of person to redirect his missions to Konoha. It isn’t wise for him or for you because you’re losing both face and funds, and he’s directly weakening his own powerbase.”

I paused, summoning a third of the energies I still had left.

“I can bet you’re feeling awfully resentful, too. Towards the Daimyo, his son who inherited whatever bad blood existed between you and his father, even Konoha for turning a blind eye. I can’t fix all of those problems. But I can fix some of them. Swear to me that you’ll try to be a better father-” Gaara snapped his head towards me. “-Swear to me that you’ll set aside your hate as best you can, I’ve already shown you how much of a lie your life’s become. Swear to me that you’ll treat me with the respect I deserve, and I’ll show you how.”

Rasa stilled, teeth gritted, hands clenched ontop of his desk. Finally, after a long moment where I truly thought he would attack me, he nodded. “I swear,” he said quietly.

As soon as those words escaped his lips, something clicked between us. Through my mind’s eye, I saw a golden string float between his chest and mine, right where our hearts were. An oath had been made that couldn’t be broken, not without severe consequences to the one who spat on it. Even if I didn’t trust Rasa, I trusted my powers.

I clapped my hands together, concentrating.

And then I sang once more, a loud, long note that pushed against me just as I pushed back. This time, I didn’t rely on my memories of Namo’s mercy, or of Estë’s healing arts. I envisioned Aüle the Smith, Husband to Yavanna, Forgemaster of the Valar. I felt the heat of his forge. I heard the roar of his hammer against the anvil. I saw iron shape and mould as he desired. I felt, heard, saw, and I created. As I drew my palms apart, I saw air give way to metal, black and durable, not made to be sharpened but to withstand repeated hits.

A brief look of awe crossed the three Suna-nin’s eyes. I smiled. I don’t think I would ever get tired of seeing others reactions to hearing the Ainulindalë, the Song of Creation. I may not be capable of the feats that the greatest of my kind had engaged in yet – I couldn’t erect mountains from the ground, couldn’t decompress the ground and let rivers form, couldn’t summon thunderstorms that would rage for a dozen years – but I’d be damned if I didn’t get there one day.

I placed the chunk of solid metal – nameless and not especially mystically active, and therefore reproducible without expending great effort each time – and folded my hands in front of me.

“You tried selling your gold dust but transporting it by ship was too costly and dangerous. Of those you could trade with on land, Iwa would sooner fight you for it. Claw and Fang didn’t have the money to buy it in bulk consistently. Rain had been closed off for ages. The only other country you could’ve easily traded with was Rivers, and they have one of the continent’s biggest goldmines.”

Rasa stared at the chunk of metal. I could almost see the neurons fire and the synapses connect in his brain as he came to the conclusion I wanted him to. “You want me to trade metal.”

I nodded. “I want you to trade metal with Rivers first. They’ll take the offer – it’ll increase their profits when you stop giving them whatever competition you pose. Plus, if they have a gold mine, they’ll have an industry devoted to it. Guess what an industry like that needs most? Hell, ask your blacksmiths to reforge it into tools and sell it to them at a greater profit margin.”

Rasa picked up the chunk of metal, refined into perfection right at creation. Then, his eyes found mine. “This will fix a lot of the short term problems, but it won’t solve everything.”

I smiled.

“The Iwa issue you’re having? Talk to me about it.”

Rasa considered the metal for a moment longer before handing it to Baki, who took it almost reverently. “It isn’t the Iwa-nin that we can’t deal with. It’s who they send into the Land of Wind.”

Oh. That- that made so much more sense than what I’d been thinking of. Of course Iwa would do that. Of course hard-headed, stubborn-to-a-fault Onoki would do that.

“Han and Roshi,” I said quietly, earning a nod from Rasa. At this point, the poor man wasn’t even surprised I knew things that I really, really shouldn’t. I was sure my message about being a spirit had gotten through. If I said I was Maiar, that I was born of Eru’s thought, it would’ve meant nothing to him and only created more questions. I’d settled on merely implying that I was not human, could see and bring out others souls, and let his mind come to whatever conclusion he’d come to.

“They’re Jinchūriki. More than that, they’re Jinchūriki who apparently get along with their Tailed Beasts.” Here, Rasa shot a look at Gaara, but not an unkind one. The red-haired boy shifted slightly, utterly unused to feeling any kind of compassion from his father. I frowned. That was one more thing to fix, but I couldn’t do anything about that just now. “My ninja cannot deal with them on their own, they have to withdraw and wait for me and Gaara. Only together have we had any luck in driving them back. If they come together…” He trailed off.

“I understand. I don’t think that’ll be a problem for much longer.”

Rasa took a deep breath in, exhaling loudly. He breathed in again, unclenching his fists and opening a drawer next to his desk. Out came a glass and a thick, squat bottle of amber liquid. He poured a healthy amount into the glass, swallowing a big mouthful of it a second later.

“And why,” Rasa said with forced calm, “Do you think so?”

“If you’ll allow it, I have plans to make Gaara into a perfect Jinchūriki.”

In the peripherals of my vision, I noted Baki was nursing his forehead with his palm. Even Gaara did a double-take. Rasa exhaled sharply. Then, he pushed the glass away and took a deep swig from the bottle.

…I think I broke the Kazekage.