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To Fit the Crime [Arakaki, Sandaime] [Feb. 5th, 2012|01:31 am]
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[User Picture]From: [info]fallen_arakaki
2012-02-05 09:55 am (UTC)

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The vacant side of Arakaki’s shared bed paled in comparison to the empty bed in the empty apartment Tousaki should be occupying. Arakaki leaned closer to Hiruzen’s desk and pushed the blue folder forward. “The latest reports are all in here; there’s no sign of him. The most recent search team turned up absolutely nothing, and from Ginta and Kakashi’s foolhardy excursion we only confirmed what we already knew: he never made it as far as Yukihana and he certainly never set foot in the Dainichi Nyourai Temple bunker. Not since he and his team booby-trapped and abandoned it last August.”

Hiruzen exhaled sharply, irritation showing plainly in his scowl. “It's a shame Ginta didn't steal that piece of Intel before he led them both into a trap.”

When Arakaki ground his teeth, nodding in agreement, the headache that he’d come in with flared back to life despite his painkillers. He shrugged tense shoulders, sighing heavily and rubbing his brow. “Maybe we’re being too lenient. What Ginta did was reckless and inexcusable. He’s lucky we’re not looking at three funerals here, instead of one.”

The bitter words hung in silence.

“Possibly one,” he amended, meeting Hiruzen’s eyes. “Possibly. It’s too early to give up on Tousaki yet. He’s a resourceful man and a skilled ninja...”

Who was in all likelihood never going to be found. Whose funeral in a few months would be held without ashes to bury.

“He is ANBU,” Hiruzen said, in a voice fiercely proud and profoundly sad at the same time. Every one of the three-hundred sworn ANBU agents had taken an oath directly to the Hokage—Hiruzen, or, in a few cases, Minato. The weight of all those lives was a heavy burden, one Arakaki could only partly share. Of course it wasn’t just ANBU lives that rested on the Hokage’s slim shoulders. But still, to be ANBU meant something. They were the sharpest and most lethal weapons in Konoha’s arsenal. Only a fool would count one of them dead without proof...

“But a very young ANBU. It’s a great shame he had no opportunity to pass his jutsu along to another ninja,” Hiruzen said, breaking Arakaki’s train of thought with painful irony. Hiruzen was no fool.

“We should have asked him to allow Kakashi or one of our Uchiha agents to copy them,” Arakaki agreed. “Maybe one of them already did. When Kakashi is recovered enough to be properly debriefed, I’ll make sure he’s asked.”

Hiruzen nodded. “Do so.”

Outside the office, a floorboard squeaked as someone walked by. Arakaki leaned back in his chair and glanced again at the portraits on the wall—Konoha’s founders and leaders, all with the same steel-backed fire in their faces. Was it the same in other ninja villages, with other Kage? Other men or women missing, maybe fallen to Konoha’s blades?

He shook the thought away, there were still things they needed to discuss.

“Kakashi’s summons—Pakkun and Baiji—they more than anyone saved Kakashi and Ginta’s lives. I feel we should find some way to commend them. Also, will you be talking to Sakamoto Chihiro-sama about the house arrest? It is her home we are proposing turning into a prison, after all.”