5

Chapter 5: trying to fight for what's right and got sidetrackedChapter Text

Raijin had never understood Jiraiya when the latter had looked at him thoughtfully one day and declared that he had the potential to become a decent spymaster himself some day. 

To be fair, he had some pretty valid concerns back then. At twelve, he could barely lie to save his life, and even that was a toss up half the time. At nineteen, he isn't all that better at outright dishonesty, but he has had the time to figure out what works for him. Raijin has gotten good enough at half-truths and omitting enough information that he isn't running the risk of immediately blurting out that he's a time-traveller at least. 

And with these new skills of subterfuge, he discovers that Jiraiya had been right! He knows he's good with people and that his friendliness generally tends to get them talking, but he also finds it surprisingly enjoyable. 

Raijin had basically been left unchecked his whole childhood and he spent a lot of that time running around in parts of Konoha that no child should probably be left in unsupervised. But the people occupying the red light districts were just as outcasted as he had been and he'd learned to fit in with them because they were the only ones who'd let him. He carries those quirks and habits forward now, weaving an enormous web of contacts with the usage of his handy clones and the people he befriends in places where nobody else will treat them with any familiarity. 

Since he's a man out of time who never paid much attention to history, Raijin needs to find ways to consistently stay in the loop of events and keep track of what happens when. It's a nice bonus for him that information happens to sell really well too during wartime. 

But his contacts aren't all he has been using for his growing network. 

It had been a stroke of incredible luck that he'd found such an incredible resource when he'd been raiding the library of the Uzumaki main line's house. To think they'd just have a summoning scroll for foxes lying around in Uzushio. It's like Raijin's entire life has been one big joke leading up to this punchline. 

"Ne, Naru-chan," Sayuri chirps, trotting beside him, "are you sure Kyuubi-sama isn't awake yet? What if you're lying to us so you can keep him all to yourself? I really won't forgive you if that's how it is!"

Raijin sighs. He may be their contracted summoner, but the foxes really just do whatever they want. It's why he is the first name on their scroll. They've simply refused to accept anyone else, failing them on absurd criteria they set to test the humans wanting to claim their assistance. The only reason they accepted him is because they could sense that he's the container for the Kyuubi no Kitsune, who they regard as one of their strongest ever. 

"Yes, Sayuri-san," he says for the seventy-eight time, "Kurama is still passed out in our seal."

She gives him the fox equivalent of a stink-eye. "What did you even do to him that Kyuubi-sama is still recovering?"

Huffing in frustration, he sticks his hands in his pockets and looks away. "I told you: he is depleted after powering the space-time seal." Raijin puffs out his cheeks. "And he's getting better, okay? It's taking time but I can feel him getting there."

He hopes it'll be soon now. He misses his tenant's voice grumbling over all of his bad choices. Not to mention, Kurama is the last piece of home he has left— the only one he hasn't had to give up yet. 

Sayuri peers up at him like she isn't entirely sure she believes him and Raijin bares his teeth right back at her. "Well," she finally concedes, "if you say so."

Sage, these damn foxes would be the death of him. 

He rolls his eyes to the heavens and shakes his head. "Sayuri-san, I asked you to come because I have something I'd like you to do," he says slowly, forcing his mouth into a sweet smile.

Sayuri's ears perk up. "Is it an important task?"

"Of course," Raijin simpers. "Only the most important for a fox this useful."

She tosses her head, her gait taking on an additional flair. "I suppose I can lend you my assistance then. What is it, Naru-chan?"

"I need you to go south-west from here. Remember the map I gave you?" He waits for Sayuri to nod before continuing, "I need you to go where Takigakure borders a little village to its east. There are mountains there and you'll see the bones of giants in the forest. I need you to go towards the mountain and find an abandoned mine for me. There will be a network of tunnels and caves, and an old guy is hiding out there with this creepy plant thing. I'd like you to keep an eye on them from afar and report to me if they bring anyone else to their hideout. Can you do that?"

Tilting her head in consideration, she nods. "Sounds simple enough. You want me to be sneaky?"

"The sneakiest."

She bares her teeth at that. "I'm very good at that, Naru-chan. What will you give me in return?"

"I'll buy you that fancy plum tea you wanted."

"Plum blossom tea, Naru-chan," she corrects. "You have yourself a deal!"

To think he has to bargain with his summons to get them to do anything. Raijin sighs and mourns for the future of his wallet. 

Oh, well, at least his spirits will be lifting soon enough. He's off to Suna after all! Raijin's current agenda is making sure that Gaara doesn't get a shitty seal like last time. It's not something that affects the timeline all that much but he'd like it if his friend doesn't have to suffer needlessly in this life. 

He's just going to be in and out in a flash. No trouble at all!

Suna is in trouble.

Chiyo can longer deny it: they're being haunted. 

In hindsight, it starts with the scrolls. The librarians had started mumbling about finding books and scrolls lying around that had no record of ever belonging to Suna's public library. The desk shinobi on the lower levels of the Kazekage office building were stumped as to who kept leaving fuuinjutsu theory on their desks and shelves. Chiyo's own home and office had not been spared even though no one was seen going in or out of either and none of her traps had been set off. 

She had ignored it then, angrily chalking it up to the work of some admittedly skilled trickster. It was irritating to be targeted this way but, ultimately, such a prank was harmless. 

Except it didn't stop there. 

Next came what looked to most people like strange doodles that had been crossed out. Unfinished lines and shapes tapering off before they could start to form a picture, circled in red and then struck off. Pages with only the corners filled with a swirling pattern haphazardly erased so only half of the pattern could be seen. Things that normal shinobi would dismiss because they wouldn't understand.

But Chiyo is not a regular shinobi. Those were not doodles that the prankster was leaving for them to find; they were parts of seals. Seals made in a style with arrays and patterns that she was all too familiar with because they are in her hand. Containment seals. Jinchuuriki seals, she realised with a chill. 

And they were everywhere once she started looking for them. Slipped into pages of reports and books in her home, her office, the library, and even the Kazekage's own office. Memos stuck onto the doors and walls of their workplace. Papers littering the streets of Suna like fliers. With each attempt where they failed to understand the trickster's intention, the scale of the prank increased. 

Chiyo was appalled. She didn't understand how someone could get hold of such a confidential seal to begin with. Then to have this person express their rejection of the design, consistently crossing out or halfway erasing the seals, leaving messages saying "NO" and "NOT THIS" and "DO BETTER"; all of it gave her goosebumps and put fear in her heart like she hadn't felt since Sasori's departure from the village. 

It all came to a head in the Yondaime Kazekage's office. Documents had been scattered on the floor as though someone had smacked them off Rasa's desk in frustration. Once again, fuuinjutsu theory was piled onto the table along with a scroll that revealed a seal that Chiyo could only stare at with numb horror. It was a design clearly meant to seal the Ichibi into a vessel that was itself stored in an organic container. A seal to make a jinchuuriki out of an unborn child. A seal that she'd begun working on recently at Rasa's request. 

The seal was crossed out, an arrow pointing at it with a message that read: 'This won't do. No unborn babies. No crappy seal. Be better this time.' 

"Be better this time," Rasa repeated slowly, sounding very far away. No one other than him and Chiyo even knew of the request he'd made to her with his own coming second-born in mine. "Who…?"

Chiyo had been grim. "Perhaps it is the to-be vessel's predecessor," she said. 

Rasa turned to her with wide eyes. "The previous jinchuuriki?" he asked, hissing. 

"Or a djinn," she added. "I do not believe this to be the work of a human anymore. Why would any other shinobi of this skill care about Suna's next jinchuuriki seal to this extent?" 

Rasa hadn't replied. Within the week, shamans and priests had been brought in to purify and bless their offices and their city. Rituals were performed to cleanse the space of any malevolent spirits whose resentment towards them might only grow. Chiyo received a personal blessing to protect her from forces even she could do nothing against. 

It did not stop their ghost. 

Chiyo remembers the previous jinchuuriki. He'd been a small man with tough hands and intense eyes. Rarely ever a smile on his face. His eyes had always narrowed and mouth pursed around Chiyo or the Sandaime Kazekage. She remembers dismissing that simmering rage so easily, even finding some amusement in the man's quietly brewing resentment. She'd scoffed then because she'd known their weapon was a well trained one, and he may hate them all he likes, but he would still die for them one day, and then he'd simply be replaced. Such is the life of a jinchuuriki; they're meant to be sacrifices to harness the power of the demons sealed away within them for the sake of their villages and Kage. 

Now, she sits in the home where she knows she cannot stop this ghost from coming and going as he pleases, and she wonders about that rage. Wonders if he hated them and this village enough to choose to linger here so he could give them even an ounce of the suffering he might have experienced at their hands. She stares at the seal she'd been designing, meant to condemn a child to the same fate even before its first breath. 

"Be better," she says to herself, smiling wryly. Decisively, she rips the paper in two. There would be no sealing the Ichibi into an unborn child if it seemed to displease the dead so much that they'd leave their eternal rest just to come stop them. 

She knows better than anyone else how stubborn she is, and there is that saying about old dogs and new tricks, but… Well, it's never too late to make amends. 

They could try to be better.

Raijin knows cultural differences are a thing and all, but man, Suna was being even weirder than usual. 

For one, no one in the entire city could seem to take a fucking hint. He'd had to leave the same message over and over, in bigger and more crowded places each time in the hopes that someone would figure it out, but not one person got that he was telling them to not screw up Gaara's seal in those particular arrays. 

To make matters worse, they seemed to be convinced that he was a ghost haunting them. There'd been exorcisms. Chiyo insisted on personally getting purified and blessed and whatnot. Honestly, Raijin had been kind of offended. 

He is still alive and kicking, thank you very much. 

Well, whatever. By the time he left, they seemed to have given up on trying to figure out how to seal Shukaku into a foetus, so at least there's that. He's so glad he had managed to convince Gaara to show him how to dismantle the protective seals and traps laid in the Kazekage office when his friend had become Godaime. They'd served as enough of a basis for him to figure out Suna's trapping style in general which made breaking in so much easier than it could've been. 

Hopefully now Gaara can have the happy childhood he always should have had, free of rage and bloodlust that aren't his. His village and family will not have to fear or hate him, and he could actually sleep without flying into a murderous rampage. Raijin looks to the sky and smiles at the sunny day. A caravan of shamans makes their way back to Suna on the road in the distance. 

All in a good day's work