25

Chapter 25: former heroes who quit too lateNotes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Seeing Minato again is nice. Raijin hadn't realised just how much he'd missed his brother until they both wind up being in Konoha at the same time again, finally giving them the time to catch up after months of sporadic contact.

The last time they'd seen each other, it had been just as the leaves began to turn at the start of autumn. They are weeks past the new year now, well into winter. Almost a full five months of war and repair, and at long last, things are starting to fall into the place for a new normal as Konoha enters a hard-earned time of peace. The endless missions are starting to slow and tired shinobi are finally allowed to come home for more than their next assignment.

Minato looks older somehow than when Raijin last saw him. There is a weight in the slant of his shoulders, a gravity in the electric blue of his eyes. He is slower to smile now; warier and quieter. There is an intensity there that Raijin recognises well—the severity of what it means to be a leader, and the burden of holding the fate of an entire village.

For so long Namikaze Minato had been Raijin's hero. The Yondaime Hokage had been much beloved by Konohagakure and almost every shinobi of Raijin's generation had aspired to live up to the standards he had set. It is strange to realise now that Minato is still growing into the man he will become and that it is happening before Raijin's very own eyes.

"It's over now," Minato says, voice whisper soft in the dim golden light of Raijin's kitchen, his hands wrapped around a chipped mug of over-steeped tea as though it is something precious. "Iwagakure was charged with blame and reparation. Konoha has renewed peace treaties. Kushina is safe. Team 7 made it back in one piece. Jiraiya-sensei is still okay. You're finally back home. It's all over now."

Raijin hums, knocking his foot against Minato's under the table. "We've been very fortunate."

Minato smiles, small and fragile. "We have," he agrees. "Not everyone can say the same."

"It was war," Raijin points out, lips pursed. "It's always going to be all about loss."

"But it's over now."

"So it is."

Taking a deep breath, Minato says, "Hokage-sama wants to offer me a seat at the council as reward for my contributions to the war effort." He pauses, eyeing Raijin with uncharacteristic nervousness. "The clan council."

That certainly is news to him. He knows for sure Minato only ever had a seat at the council as Hokage, and that the Namikaze were never a clan. Minato had been given a medal or something originally and that had been that. To be awarded clan status isn't something Raijin had even thought of. He doesn't think it has been done since possibly the Founders' Era.

'No point in clan status when it's a clan of one,' Kurama points out dryly.

Raijin blinks in realisation. "Ah," he says.

His response doesn't seem to reassure Minato much. The elder of the two presses on, "I don't want to force this onto you. It's totally understandable if you want to refuse or if you're uncomfortable, but I just figured it'd be worth bringing up first because a seat at the council really could be helpful. Of course, this isn't to pressure you. I'm just saying so you kn—"

"What are you talking about?" Raijin interrupts, puzzled. "Why would I be uncomfortable if you have a seat at the council?"

Minato winces. "Your name," he says. "All your documents and records, including those for your citizenship, only have 'Raijin' on them. A clan has to have at least two people in it capable of expanding its numbers to be recognised under Konoha's laws. However, for all official purposes, right now, I'm the only Namikaze in the village."

"Ah," Raijin says again, scratching at his cheek. "Well, you don't have to worry so much about that. I don't really…mind, I guess."

Hesitating, Minato asks, "Are you sure?"

Raijin nods. "Sure. It's just a name, right?" His smile feels brittle on his face, so he drops it. It was only a matter of time, he tells himself. It's fine. He wasn't exactly using Uzumaki anyways. He may as well take on Namikaze and at least help his brother out.

"It's not just that," Minato says, sighing. "I think a successor announcement is right around the corner." He purses his lips. "Hokage are not allowed to hold two seats at any council. If we do get a place among the clan council, you would have to be my proxy and represent the Namikaze for the entirety of my tenure."

'Hello, politics,' Raijin thinks numbly. He hadn't anticipated stepping into that shark tank so early on or with this much presence.

"It's a big ask," Minato admits, fingers linked together. "I'd understand if you don't want to be involved with that side of village function. I can always just take a medal instead. It'd be a popularity boost among the civilians and the capital. There's no harm either way, so we can do whatever is more comfortable for you."

Part of Raijin wants to refuse. After all, this never happened the first time round. He doesn't know what to expect out of this at all. But, then again, nothing about the future is going to be as it was anyway. By this point, most of Raijin's knowledge is already exhausted and he's playing blind.

He bites the inside of his cheek. "What would give you the bigger advantage? Like, long-term."

Minato watches him with unreadable eyes, quietly pensive in a way that makes Raijin want to squirm under his attention. He feels like a butterfly pinned down under nothing but Minato's gaze.

"You would offer?" Minato asks finally, quiet. "Just like that?"

Raijin blinks, bewildered. "Well…yeah."

The indecipherable tension doesn't ease out of Minato's face. "It will be dangerous, Raijin," he says. "We will be a new clan, suddenly put on par with the founding clans when no other shinobi clan has had the honour in decades. There will be scrutiny that you won't be able to escape if you agree to become my proxy. There will be manipulations and machinations; alliances and offences, both temporary and permanent. We will have to think twice about almost every seemingly innocuous interaction going forward. We will make enemies. We might not make friends." Quieter still, he adds, "Shimura Danzou will be there."

Shrugging off the doom and gloom, Raijin eyes his brother. "Wow, nii-chan, way to be a pessimist."

"I want you to make an informed decision."

"I already knew all that stuff," Raijin states, inclining his head. "I didn't think it was going to be easy. You're in for all that stuff no matter what you do, and if you take the hat, then it's going to bleed into my life regardless too."

"It'd be a lot easier to avoid if you weren't actively involved in the decision making though," Minato points out.

Raijin frowns. "What are you trying to do?" he asks. "Do you want me to refuse?"

"No, I just—" Minato closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. "I don't know," he admits after a moment. "I need everyone I can get in my corner because I don't have the pre-existing alliances clan shinobi usually do. Having you on the council, having a guarantee that at least one person has my back—it would be invaluable. But it's risky. I don't want to put you in any harm's way if I can help it. I want you to be safe. I—" He swallows. "I need you to be safe."

'Shit,' Raijin thinks, blinking rapidly, 'I think I'm going to cry.'

'You humans and your squishy human feelings,' Kurama sneers. 'Pathetic.'

Clearing his throat, Raijin sits up straight. "I want to help," he says decisively. "I know it's risky. I know it's going to be difficult and aggravating, and creepy old people will test my morality and patience every step of the way. I know I'll have to think twice and look over my shoulder a lot. But I can deal with all of that, and I can take care of myself too. If you think having someone in your corner on that council is going to help you in the long run, then I'm down to do it."

Minato presses his lips into a thin line. "Why?" he asks, his eyes never leaving Raijin's.

"Because you're my brother."

He blinks at that, looking stunned. The surprise is very quickly replaced by something overwhelmingly soft and fond as Minato smiles. "Just like that?"

Raijin smiles back. "Just like that."

Fugaku stands in the Hokage office, hands clasped behind his back, every inch of him filled with a wary trepidation. Today is the day he finds out whether he should expect any aid from the Hokage in helping the Uchiha regain their slipping hold within the village.

Today is the day he finds out whether or not Itachi will be allowed into the Academy early.

Fingers steepled on his desk, Hiruzen sighs as he regards the Uchiha clan head and heir with tired eyes. "You understand this puts me in a difficult position, yes, Uchiha-dono?"

Fugaku's heart sinks. At his side, Itachi shifts his weight ever so slightly. "There is precedent," he argues, keeping his emotions decidedly off his face. "Itachi would hardly be the first to be admitted into the Academy at the age of four."

"Indeed," Hiruzen nods, looking grave, "but those were exceptions from a time of war."

It is an exercise in patience to keep himself from gritting his teeth. From where he is stood behind the Hokage, Namikaze Minato watches Fugaku with too sharp eyes and a knowing furrow in his brow.

"Peacetime is hardly an excuse to grow complacent," Fugaku retorts swiftly. "I don't see why it is any reason to let Itachi's brilliance go to waste. He is a genius and will certainly be a credit to our village. He deserves the chance to reach that potential at the earliest instead of stagnating in this way."

Sighing, Hiruzen passes a hand over his face. "I see where you are coming from, Uchiha-dono, but you must understand my position. It is imperative that we show people that we are in a time of peace for them to feel at ease. I have told them that their children are finally safe, and now I must prove that I mean it. Increasing the age of admittance to the Academy is a small but important step in doing just that. It tells everyone that we are no longer in such desperate need of soldiers. It lets our children stay children for that much longer."

Fugaku wants to bring up Hatake Kakashi. He wants to bring up every other slightly above average child for whom allowances were made. 'But, perhaps,' he thinks bitterly, 'such exceptions are only made for those who are not Uchiha.'

It is Minato who cuts through the uncomfortable silence that has befallen the office, humming thoughtfully as his gaze drifts to Itachi. "Still," he comments, "it would be a shame to curb Itachi-kun's growth for the sake of politics. It is unfair to ask him to sacrifice his potential for our convenience. This is his peacetime too after all."

The words are clearly in support of Fugaku's cause, but still, he cannot help the way he tenses. Admittedly, he is not too familiar with Namikaze Minato. They are not strangers by any means, of course, and their significant others are friends, so they have spoken on a few occasions. Minato is polite and agreeable, but he is also unashamedly cunning. He sees and dissects, and he is unafraid to act to his advantage. They are not enemies, but they have never tried to be friends. Fugaku wonders why the man is choosing to come to his aid now instead of siding with the Hokage as one would expect of him.

Hiruzen too looks as though he is wondering the same, looking between Fugaku and Minato with curious eyes. "Perhaps the shinobi faction will not care, but the civilian council will protest. It is their petition to increase the age of admittance to at least six-years-old."

Tilting his head, Minato considers this. "Is there no other official channel Itachi-kun can go through to start his education earlier than usual?"

Fugaku's breath catches in his throat. Could he mean…? "An apprenticeship," he exhales.

From the quicksilver smile that passes over Minato's face, Fugaku suspects the man had been aiming for this all along. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised. It is entirely possible that Raijin mentioned the dinner conversation to Minato where they had insinuated something similar. Still, Fugaku had meant that in very much an unofficial capacity. This isn't an entirely expected turn of events.

Bewildered, Hiruzen blinks. "An apprenticeship?" he repeats. "We haven't had one in the village in decades."

"It became obsolete when the Academy was introduced and standardised learning became advantageous for the system of teams we operate under," Fugaku says, frowning.

"It might be seen as old-fashioned," Hiruzen points out.

Minato shrugs. "It doesn't seem like a bad idea though," he states. "It might have gone out of fashion, but the arrangement itself is legal and well above-board, especially for established shinobi clans. Itachi-kun is a prodigy—he was never going to benefit from standardised learning anyway; not without it hindering his own rate of development to match the other children. This way, at least, we are able to make an exception for him, and he can get the appropriate attention and training he needs."

Hiruzen frowns, but he looks thoughtful as he regards Minato. "You seem rather invested in this, Minato-kun."

To his credit, Minato looks entirely unfazed by the unsubtle prodding. "I was a prodigy stuck in an environment that never challenged me intellectually until I was assigned to Jiraiya-sensei. I taught Kakashi who was much the same. Shikaku-san is another example of a genius who never had to work hard to coast by. It's harmful to instill that kind of thing into children and force them to conform just because they are different. They learn to speak less and not stand out, and they never quite fit in among their peers if they choose to not curb that genius. Talent needs to be nurtured—I'd like for Itachi-kun to get that opportunity at least."

It's a solid excuse. Hiruzen seems to think so too judging by the vague amusement clinging to the edges of his mouth. "Very well," he mutters, turning back to the two Uchiha. "What do you think, Uchiha-dono?"

Fugaku swallows, something that feels dangerously like hope pressing against his ribs. "I would be amenable to such an arrangement, Hokage-sama."

"And Itachi-kun?" Hiruzen smiles down kindly at the boy. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go to school with other children your age?"

Hesitating, Itachi's wide eyes look between the Hokage and his father. His gaze flits over to Minato who is stood behind the Hokage's chair, skittering away when the man smiles at him in encouragement. The boy ducks his head, allowing his hair to fall into his face. "I am sure, Hokage-sama."

Hiruzen's smile is wan, but he nods, unsurprised. "Do you have a potential mentor in mind?"

Thoughts racing, Fugaku looks to Minato who only raises an eyebrow at him. This is it. Hiruzen may be a lost cause, but here, Minato is clearly proving himself willing to side with the Uchiha and help. He has made it clear that he wouldn't mind something of an alliance or connection between them—has gone out of his way to make it obvious that he would prefer it even.

A succession is just around the corner and Hiruzen has made it no secret who his choice will be. Even now, Minato is in a meeting that does not concern him simply because the Hokage has requested it. And the future Yondaime is willing to aid the Uchiha. He is willing to listen. He is willing to attach his only brother to the Uchiha name to solidify a tie with them. There is no time to hesitate.

"Namikaze Raijin," Fugaku says, rising to his full height. Itachi's head snaps up to stare at his father.

Hiruzen blinks, once again glancing between him and Minato who gives nothing away in his relaxed posture. "Raijin-kun?"

"He has proven himself to be a most excellent shinobi. He is young, powerful, well-travelled, and famously does well with children. Raijin-kun is already well-liked by my clan for saving one of our own. Itachi is familiar with and fond of him as well." Fugaku stubbornly looks Hiruzen in the eye. "I believe they will be compatible as a teacher and student."

"And will Raijin-kun agree?" Hiruzen asks Minato. "An apprenticeship would essentially make him a third guardian for Itachi-kun. He would have the biggest say in Itachi's education and the development of his career as a shinobi. It is a big responsibility, and Raijin-kun is still rather young. Would he want to do this?"

Minato hums. "I cannot speak for him," he says slowly, "but I do think he would be. He likes children, and from what Obito and Kakashi have to say, he is a good teacher. He is fond of Itachi-kun as well. I don't see him refusing."

Sighing, Hiruzen nods. "I suppose we will simply have to ask him to be sure."

And just like that, Fugaku and Itachi are on their way home, the Hokage's official approval letter for Itachi entering an apprenticeship in hand. Now, if Raijin agrees, they will simply have to submit the appropriate paperwork, and then Itachi can start training under his new mentor.

The future Hokage's one and only beloved brother himself will teach the Uchiha clan heir. Fugaku can practically already hear the parallels people will draw between this situation and the famous bond that Senju Tobirama and Uchiha Kagami had shared. If this goes into play, it will undoubtedly mean positive attention for the Uchiha.

For the first time in a long time, Fugaku thinks things might actually get better.

For the first time in a long time, he dares to allow himself hope.

Orochimaru knows exactly who walks into the izakaya the second it happens. Still, he does not show it, keeping his body languid and relaxed as he sips at his sake, content to wait and see what the younger Namikaze will do.

They are not strangers exactly, but they have not spoken outside of any professional capacity from when they had been deployed together. This is unsurprising. It is how things usually go for Orochimaru. He does not mind it. The mindless ilk will continue to fear that which they do not understand and Orochimaru will continue his pursuit of all knowledge. He has no need to surround himself with senseless sheep who would never appreciate the extent of his ambition.

Once, he had thought his sensei and teammates had been different. These days, he knows better.

Namikaze Raijin pauses by the door, presumably when he catches sight of Orochimaru seated at the bar. Then he makes his way over and promptly drops one seat over to Orochimaru's left.

The Snake Sannin blinks and accepts it, not bothering to look up from his meal.

"Hey, Orochimaru-san," Raijin speaks up, flashing Orochimaru as quick smile when the elder finally looks up at the acknowledgment. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you here."

"Raijin-kun," Orochimaru returns evenly, bobbing his head.

"I was fully convinced you were still running a mission," the blond continues, squinting at the menu displayed over the counter. "Hokage-sama is totally running the jounin into the ground."

Tilting his head, Orochimaru says, "It is to be expected."

Raijin smiles wryly at that. "Yeah, I guess it is." He asks for the dinner special set and a beer, as though this is a perfectly normal occasion for him.

"You are an amusing boy," Orochimaru remarks candidly, unprompted.

"I live to entertain," comes the instant reply, and Raijin looks startled by his own response, slowly turning to blink blankly at Orochimaru.

Lips twitching, he pours himself another cup. "What do you want from me, Raijin-kun?"

Lifting an eyebrow, the boy's mouth twists. "Why are you assuming I want something?"

"You would not have approached me otherwise."

Raijin openly rolls his eyes. "I'm just making conversation."

Orochimaru angles a brow. "Is that so?"

"Indulge me," Raijin waves a hand, careless. "I hear you're a scientist."

"I suppose," he allows. "I pursue all knowledge that is available to me." And some that is not too, but that is neither here nor there.

Raijin looks at him as though he hears it anyway, glancing at him dryly over his glass, and Orochimaru looks back with renewed interest. The boy may try to convince the world he is loud and brash, and perhaps he is, but he certainly isn't stupid as he pretends to be. Jiraiya is much the same.

"Jiraiya-san said you probably know the most jutsu after the Sandaime."

Orochimaru hums. "Perhaps. Sarutobi-sensei is much older than I am though. Eventually, I will catch up."

"Sensei," Raijin repeats thoughtfully, more to himself than anything. "Right. You were a team." He looks back at Orochimaru. "Were you close?"

He wants to say no. He wants to refuse and reject all of them, rip them right out of his person and the history that has made him. Leave them behind as they have left him. Shed and shaken off like dead snakeskin.

Instead what comes out of his mouth is, "We were inseparable." He looks away from unreadable blue eyes and traces the rim of his cup. Bitterly, he adds, "Like an illness."

"You miss them." It is not a question.

He wishes he could be angry but the anger won't come. It has been too long for him to feel anything but emptiness in the space where Tsunade and Jiraiya used to reside among whatever softness he had to offer. He wishes he could hate them for it too. He's still trying to. One day, he thinks he will succeed. Right now, he doesn't know how to feel about that.

"I'm a futurist," he says at last. "I do not believe in looking back at the past. Nostalgia is a lie meant for fools."

For a moment, Raijin is quiet, eyes downcast and face pensive. Softly, he corrects, "Nostalgia is a kind of grief." He closes his eyes. "And grief is just love with nowhere else to go." When he looks at Orochimaru, it is with a gentle sort of understanding that makes his skin crawl. "You loved your friends. I think that's important."

It feels a little bit like getting slapped. In fact, Orochimaru might have even preferred that to the terrible softness in this boy's eyes. He can't bear to look at him any longer, so he looks away. His flesh creeps with the urge to set himself on fire.

He remembers softness like something from a dream. Remembers having it directed at him in gentle touches and murmured words; hands in hands, in hair, on skin; laughter and jokes and dreams and promises. He remembers being soft. Having it within himself.

He thinks it has long since died. Perhaps he killed it himself. It is rotting now.

"Love," he pronounces imperiously, lip curling. He hates how it fits in his mouth. Wrong. Repulsive. "I'm not sure I even know such a thing."

Raijin is lucky he doesn't look at Orochimaru with pity for that. He might've just found a kunai buried in those pretty little eyes of his.

Instead, he says, "I had a friend. Sakura. She was a field medic so she had to be really good with her hands, and for the most part, she was." Raijin's mouth pulls back into a smile, gaze distant and warm. "For some reason, though, she was freakishly bad at peeling oranges. Like, it would only come off in little bits and she'd get juice and pulp everywhere and make a total mess. Every time I peeled one for her, she was super impressed, as if I had some sort of superpower." The smile turns into something wistful and sad. "I remember wishing that she would never learn how to peel oranges. I think that's all love is—peeling oranges for your best friend so she'll laugh and share half of it with you."

Orochimaru's heart feels like lead. He downs the contents of his cup and refills it. Pausing, he blinks at the ripples on the surface of the alcohol.

"I nearly drowned in a lake once," he comments dully. "It was during our first Academy field trip. I hadn't known how to swim back then." Licking at his lips, he adds, "I know now. Tsunade taught me."

When she left, it had felt a lot like drowning again. He is older now and he knows how to swim, and still, it had felt as though he was back in those murky depths, looking catfish in the eye and convinced he had met gazes with the shinigami himself. Like all along it had waited for him at the bottom. He knows how to swim now, but she had left, and he had been afraid all over again.

He can't even remember the last time he spoke her name before today. He wishes he could hate her for it. He wishes she would come back.

"This is her favourite sake, you know," he says, finger tapping against the cup.

Because even his escapism seems to lead him back to the things he wants to escape from in the first place.

"I'm sorry she left," Raijin says.

"Why?"

"Because it made you sad."

Orochimaru wants to scoff. He is above such grief—or, at least, he should be. Tsunade made her choice. As did Jiraiya. He hadn't been worth staying for, and that's that. Grief is love and love is unforgiving. It is pain. It is violence. It is fear and longing and a bone-deep hunger.

And he refuses to be haunted by the ghosts of such cowards. He is pragmatic. Cold. Rational. Sensible. Grief is none of those things. He is above his own.

Yet, these words die on his tongue, refusing to leave his mouth. Speaking them will make them real. He remains silent.

"I heard you are looking for a way to become immortal," Raijin brings up.

Orochimaru exhales. "If I wish to collect knowledge of all jutsu in the world, I will need to be."

Raijin regards him with open consideration. "And then will you be happy?"

Blinking, Orochimaru says, "I will be strong."

"But will you be happy?"

He looks away, sipping at the sake. It tastes like the lake he almost drowned in all those years ago.

"No."

Notes:

Orochimaru wasn't supposed to be here but then he snuck in and kind of took over. The timeline in Naruto is 50 shades of confusing, so I'm assuming that at this point in time, he isn't too far of the deep end. I don't think he really gets morality and ethics, and he relied on his team to serve as his moral compass. Then they abandoned him and he said fuck it, at least I have science, and he ran with it.

So far, he has performed experiments on prisoners at the village's behest and has synthesized mokuton. He hasn't kidnapped anyone himself. Yet anyways. There is still hope.

Right now, he's just lonely and hurting and angry. I wanted to try to explore some of that psyche. I hope I did it justice. Also, forever pushing my 'Oranges are the fruit of love' agenda.