WAP 37

CHAPTER 37

Absolutely no one was happy about them meeting at Modachi-sama’s beautiful estate to discuss, the civilian noble least of all. He gave them a vaguely haunted expression and chain smoked through the apparent psychic pain of being the iconic civilian co-conspirator to their coup. Aiko wrinkled her nose in disgust. Madara noticed and opened a window, looking plaintively at her for approval as his long, elegant hand hung awkwardly on the window frame. He looked extremely handsome while the backlighting shone through his hair. 

She continued to haughtily pretend that he wasn’t there. He looked sort of miserable and noble about it, shrinking back down into his seat. 

Madara had really tried to be the generous big man hosting their little war table, but everyone else was annoyed with the Uchiha at that point for expediting their political problems. The most infuriating part, Aiko thought, was that they didn’t seem to regret launching the campaign without approval, only that no one was listening to them as a result.

The Senju pretended not to see any of that byplay. They were the largest group present: Hashirama, Mito, Tobirama, and two bodyguards at either side of the entrance.

“Take heart,” Izuna told Modachi seriously. He didn’t react to the pipe smoke wafting across his face. “If you don’t get assassinated for this, you are going to have whatever position in my court you want. Do you want to be the Minister of Agriculture? Trade?” He spread his hands appealingly.

Modachi-sama looked pained. “...I would humbly serve to the best of my ability as the Minister of Trade,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Could I perhaps, ah, ask for the cooperation of one of your noble clans to ensure that I and my family survive to serve in your court?”

Izuna blinked at him, a beautiful stupid lizard who didn’t remember that most people were defenseless against angry Hyuuga or samurai affiliated with what had very recently been the uncontested head noble family. He was as handsome as ever. Aiko felt a lot less charmed at the moment.

“Of course,” Mito said smoothly. She fixed the poor bastard with an ambassadorial smile, slick and ready to soothe. “We can position clan members in your estate to ensure your protection.”

He looked at her with a soppy sort of gratefulness that made Aiko resist a grimace. Ugh. She was glad that she wasn’t stuck doing the soft stuff. With that in mind, she cleared her throat to get the room’s attention. “Should we just kill the Hyuuga, do you think?” She toyed with her teacup, smiling unpleasantly at the thought of a good target for her current animus.  She sort of wanted to hit Madara in the face for tricking her, but that would be counterproductive. The Hyuuga were a convenient stand in. “Or at least, start at the top and just cut them down until they stop daring to speak to us.”

It couldn’t possibly take that many Hyuuga to make them less bold. Leaders were always so confident about starting conflict when they thought there were thousands of poor people between them and the battlefield, but Aiko was perfectly happy to go and cut out the middleman at the Hyuuga main house.

“That is an option,” Mito said diplomatically. “I suspect that it would undermine our long term goals. 

Madara seemed to sigh, expression sour. “I concur.” He was stiff enough to be mistaken for a statue. He refused to look at Mito. “I would not act against the Hyuuga except to match their level of aggression, for fear of undermining our legitimacy.”

‘Shinobi sensibilities really change in a hundred years. This is all so quaint. You really forget what Sarutobi-sama did to normalize effective war crimes until you're in the dark before times. They're knockoff samurai without the armor and honor. Not moral, not effective.’

Aiko hid her expression behind her hand. Ugh. 

Izuna sighed. “If they're looking to prevent us from taking control, they must have some civilian allies,” he pointed out. “Modachi-sama, I would love to hear your opinion.” 

Tobirama’s face twitched ever so slightly. Aiko felt the tiniest spark of joy. Ha. He must hate this. 

Aiko ended up tuning out Modachi’s explanation of the civilian court. She already knew enough for her tastes, and frankly, she was glad to wash her hands of it. It was ugly and stupid work. There was a beautiful clear line between their problem and the solution, and no one else cared to see it because it wasn’t politic. Who cared? This was clearly a coup. They were explicitly planning to subvert the arbitrary passage of power within one rich and powerful family in order to balance their interests. The posturing was pathetic.

Aiko braced her chin on a hand and didn’t care that it was gauche. She didn’t really respect anyone here. Modachi was a social climber, Hashirama was grim, Tobirama was a stubborn jerk, Madara was a liar and Izuna wasn’t loyal to anyone beyond his interests. She didn’t know any particular trait that Mito possessed beyond being loyal to people that Aiko didn’t like. They were all allies of convenience, not friends.

‘This is such an ineffective farce. We are seizing power. It’s pointless to try to find after the fact justifications for why this is legal. It’s not. There are better ways to use our time, but they’re going to waste it hemming and hawing over what will look more noble in the historical record.’

Just like that, Aiko decided she didn’t care to be here. Frankly, she had better things to do. She let out a sigh.

Everyone looked at her.

…Well. Might as well. Aiko stood up. “I trust that you have this issue well in hand,” she said blandly. “Please excuse me. I must attend to the spiritual health of the nation.”

Hashirama’s jaw dropped in what might have been shock or delight. Izuna’s face went blank. Mito never reacted to anything, cold fish that she was.

Madara spluttered. “P-Priestess, are you certain?”

Aiko walked past him without a glance. “Have a good day,” she said, and left the room. She left her tea undrunk on her way past the aghast Senju bodyguards, collected her outdoor shoes, and politely walked a bit down the pathway before she pulled herself back to her home shrine. 

Hana blinked at her, straightening up from the washing. “That was faster than we supposed.” She squeezed water out of the cloth in her hands and watched Aiko pass.

Aiko grunted. “I don’t like them.” She kicked her shoes back off again and started putting together a small travel kit, irritable with the whole farce. “I want to go minister. I’m going to go around and bless crops in the neighboring villages. Fix bridges and dams. Do some things that actually matter.” 

Hana dropped her work. “Take Fumiko with you,” she said, no hesitation at all. “You’ll need a local to intermediate. See if you can recruit– older people especially, the girls are lovely but–”

“I agree.” Aiko gave her apprentice a grateful smile. Hana was a fucking real one. If she wasn’t about ready to give birth any day, Aiko would have asked Hana to come with her. “Can you ask your cousin if she will come?”

Hana hiked her skirts to run.