Aiko WAP 32 full

CHAPTER 32

“She’s proposing treason,” Hashirama said. His hand tightened around Madara’s bicep. “I am not comfortable-”

Madara shook him off with a scowl and wheeled on his old friend. “It’s not treason,” he said scornfully. “The will of Heaven supersedes any political allegiance. Besides.” He tossed his hair. “We pledged loyalty to the Daimyo. And there is no Daimyo.”

“There is no Daimyo,” Hashirama said slowly, “because she murdered him.”

Madara raised an eyebrow in genteel disdain. Petty semantics were all that mattered. If loyalty was transferrable, then they wouldn’t have to trek to the capital every time there was a new Daimyo, much less the yearly show of loyalty.

Hashirama grimaced as he acknowledged the point.

He waved that off and stole a glance back where the Priestess held court between Izuna and Tobirama. She was ludicruously tiny in between the two of them. He flicked his Sharingan on so that he could read the details of her expression from this far.

She looked bored. Izuna was chattering her ear off, probably with questions about his future as the Daimyo. Tobirama was stock still, because he had recently learnt that a goddess in mortal flesh personally disliked the sound of his voice and he was not unteachable.

…They had to make this quick. 

“We should do it,” Madara said. He turned to give Hashirama his full attention and serious expression. “She is correct. If we balance the power, we can establish a system of cooperation for mutual benefit.”

“Will anyone trust us?” Hashirama hissed. He stole a glance back at the holy woman. No. The goddess. “Our plan was to open to other clans, to loners, to train and accept anyone.”

“Yes,” Madara said brutally. “If we bury our enmity to cooperate, others who have less contentious histories will see an opportunity to share in. It will be obvious there are more positions of influence and affluence than we can fill with our clan members alone. Others will flock. And besides.” He tossed his hair. “They will come for her.”

Hashirama looked a bit ill.

“A state religion is a powerful tool,” Madara pushed. He was correct, he knew he was. “Faith is unifying. The civilian side of the country has already ceded her an amount of respect and influence-”

“Because they think she’ll kill them-”

“And this can be leveraged for all of our benefit,” Madara doggedly continued, undeterred.

Hashirama’s lips thinned. “And then she becomes a third pillar of power in Konohagakure,” he pointed out. “What shall we do if she advocates and agitates against our interests?”

Madara straightened his back. “She will not,” he said with confidence. “Because I will woo her.”

The look of disbelief he got back was outright unflattering.

“She finds my form appealing,” Madara said, ready to lay out his case. “She looks to me more than she needs to. She has a positive impression of me and certainly of my clan-”

“How Izuna-san managed that is beyond my comprehension-”

“-it would be a perfect solution-”

“-not the type of woman whose opinions you can control, Mada-”

“-for one such as you with no personal charm, perhaps but that is not the situat-”

Someone cleared their throat in the distance. Hashirama and Madara paused in their argument.

All three people seated at the table looked down at them with matching expressions of disbelieving disdain.

Ah. Madara let go of the grip he had on Hashirama’s collar and took a few steps back. “Thank you for your patience,” he purred. He left the Senju behind to splutter. In a matter of moments he had returned to his place at the table. 

CCC

Aiko thought that things went pretty well, all things considered. She got both groups to agree to bring the idea back to their clans. They had varying levels of enthusiasm. Hashirama got a little green when she promised to come visit and see what his clan said. 

She considered offering him some empathy. But no. she didn’t have it to spare for him, not after his terrifying bout of emotional sadism the last time that she had visited. If he could make her miserable with happy tears and squealing, she could have him cope with a little anxiety about hosting her after she batted his clan’s warriors around.

She sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t have to do that again. There was a lot of luck and planning involved in appearing to outclass everyone else. It had worked as a show of force. But if they tested her enough times, Aiko would get her ass handed to her.

So she acted like they posed no threat to her at all. It was an intense exercise in self control to sit next to a man who she had threatened and act as if his immense creative capacity for violence wasn’t even a factor to her. As if she couldn’t personally think of a half dozen ways to capture an enemy with her abilities. The ability to heal from amputations wouldn’t do her any good if someone simply tossed the body parts in different holes. She never would have gotten her head back without help from the Inuzuka. 

Aiko pushed that consideration down deep, where it hopefully wouldn’t be visible in her body language or facial expressions. “Thank you all for your kind attention,” she said, once it was her turn to speak. “I look forward to speaking about you on this matter. I will visit tomorrow, and the day after we can go speak with the court.” She pointedly did not ask permission or for suggestions on that, frankly absurd, time frame. She was putting heavy pressure on them to make a decision on her terms. “Uchiha-sama, is it amenable for me to call upon you in the morning?”

His pupils dilated. “I would desire nothing else,” he said smoothly.

Weird. She smiled at him without letting that thought onto her face or the odd fondness she felt.  “Senju-sama.” Hashirama was sitting so stiffly it looked like it might hurt. “When could you fit me in your schedule?”

“The afternoon would be best,” he said grimly. 

She waited a moment. He didn’t offer any information as to why, or any politesse about how welcome she was.

Fair enough. She stood and bowed to both sides of the table, eager to get out of here. There was going to be so much picking up to do. She was already running through her mental to-do list. “Thank you all very much. Please excuse me.”

It was with a frankly unflattering amount of relief that she left the group. Aiko was right: cleaning up took forever. She collected all the teacups and her villagers back home and got badgered for details over a vat of hot water while they washed the dishes. Fukiko-san had an incredible capacity for asking clarifying questions that came out more like veiled criticisms.

“And so you threatened who, exactly?” Fukiko’s tone went quite high.

Aiko sulked, dish suds up to her elbows. Madara would never disrespect her like this, she thought sullenly.