Naruto: The Outsider's Resolve: CH_528: INTERLUDE_13.15: Supporting A Cause

Every year, a new batch of shinobi graduated from medical training to officially earn the right to call themselves iryō-nin. The annual event was a milestone in their lives, and, depending on the hospital where they trained, it was given great importance. At the hospital where Ai trained, they took it seriously. Formal invitations were sent to friends and family to attend a ceremony that the participants had rehearsed twice.

The grand banquet hall was a vision of elegance, with golden light cascading from massive glass chandeliers, casting a warm glow over silk-draped tables and the polished crests of proud clans whose shinobi were the main stars of the ceremony, alongside a few tables without crests for those who didn’t come from prestigious backgrounds.

At the front of the hall, resting on a raised dais of crimson velvet, lay the evening’s true centrepiece: a row of pristine, immaculately folded white robes. They were symbols of responsibility for life and death, earned through thousands of tireless hours of learning, practice, and dedication to helping those in need. The ceremony was to reward that effort and to ask them to continue helping many more who needed their skills and wisdom.

A low murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd as the newly minted iryō-nin filed into the room with rigid postures and bright eyes, free from their usual fatigue after long daily hours. When the Head Medic lifted the first white coat, the clinking of crystal glasses ceased instantly. In that suspended silence, the transition was made real—they had entered the hall as students, but they would leave draped in the heavy, spotless mantle of the village’s most important lifeline. The silence lasted only a moment before the hall erupted in cheers and applause as each of them was draped in the white robe and officially addressed with the prefix "doctor" for the first time.

Takuma had a big grin on his face as he clapped enthusiastically when the Head Medic helped Ai into the white robe. She was absolutely beaming at them from the stage. Her smile turned teary when she stepped to Doctor Oishi, standing next to the Head Medic. She hugged him on the stage, making the table of Ai’s invitees laugh at the sight of the well-respected tokubetsu jōnin in iryō-jutsu looking surprised on the stage in front of everyone before hugging his student back.

“All that work finally paid off,” Nenro said, still clapping with an emotional look in his eyes. As Ai’s boyfriend, he had been supporting her in her journey to become an iryō-nin. Just from a relationship standpoint, all the long shifts and difficult schedules could have strained their relationship, but they had remained joined at the hip, weathering the ups and downs and emerging stronger than before.

That was one of the reasons Takuma was confident that Nenro’s new ANBU appointment—where operatives were either single, divorced, or frequently switched partners—wouldn’t break their relationship now that both of them were busy. He glanced at Masaaki, who had stood up and was clapping loudly with tears streaming down his face. When it came to his friends, Masaaki was blunt and called things out, forcing much-needed confrontations—he had been a crucial buffer between the couple when they needed it the most.

“Look at him, so surprised. I wonder if they got a photo of that,” Taro chuckled at the sight of his father.

Takuma, sitting between Nenro and Taro, was only slightly uncomfortable with the knowledge that, while both were aware of his position in ANBU, neither knew that the other was aware.

He had decided to keep that particular fact a secret for now.

Ever since he had become a lieutenant, Taro exclusively worked for him. The Analyst Team and Taro’s squad had deemed it enough, given what Taro was doing for him. Nenro’s squad also had no interaction with Taro’s squad in the Analyst Team. They had no opportunity for casual contact with each other at work.

Nenro had confided in Ai about his new job, but had ultimately decided to keep it from Masaaki. He wanted ANBU to know everyone he had shared the secret with, so they would protect Masaaki in case something bad happened and his life was in danger. Takuma was worried that if he told Nenro about Taro, he would use that as a reason to tell Taro as well. He already knew one operative’s identity; what was another one, especially since they were friends? But Takuma wanted him to take his time and get settled in his new position; there was always a chance that Nenro might decide to keep his identity to just Ai and then regret revealing it to Taro.

As for sharing Nenro’s identity with Taro, that was not a secret for Takuma to share.

“I didn’t know she was here,” Takuma said. Taro followed his gaze and saw him looking at a small group near the invitee tables with Momoe in the centre of attention, talking with a bunch of shinobi who Taro vaguely recognised as important.

“She’s been busy recently garnering support for the society,” Nenro said.

“Yes, I did hear about that,” Takuma muttered as he gazed intently at Momoe.

Both of them glanced at Takuma independently of each other. They knew how busy he was with work, so if he knew what Momoe was doing, then it most probably had something to do with his responsibilities at work.

“Excuse me.” Takuma stood up.

“You’re going to talk to her?” Taro asked.

“I’ve been thinking about having a chat,” Takuma said as he gazed at Ai, now offstage, happily chatting away with her batchmates. “Might as well do it now.”

When Momoe saw him walking towards her, she excused herself from the bunch of grown-ups and waited for him with a smile on her face.

“My, my, I don’t think I’ve seen you dressed up before,” Momoe said, looking at the suit he had specially made for the day. For formal events, he usually just wore his Leaf uniform. Still, he decided to have a suit tailored because he had been the only one in the group dressed in his uniform at Nenro’s promotion ceremony.

“You have great taste; that dress looks amazing on you,” Takuma said, returning a compliment. The flowing dress, the colour of the evening sky, softened her usually sharp vibe, showing a different side of her.

“Aw, thank you,” Momoe said, hugging him. “I’m assuming you’re here for Ai?”

Takuma nodded. “What about you?”

“Another member of the society,” she said. Because Ai was also part of Momoe’s burgeoning society, she added, “I helped him connect with an experienced iryō-nin I know, who gave him the guidance he deserved. And look at him now—he’s an iryō-nin instead of spending a couple more years in training trying to figure things out on his own.”

Guidance wasn’t a problem for iryō-nin in training in the Hidden Leaf Village. The administration was aware of how rare and precious iryō-nin were and didn’t spare any resources to nurture them. Top hospitals like Ai’s were even more supportive. But one-on-one personal, dedicated guidance by a willing mentor did wonders, and that could be hard to come by because iryō-nin were busy with their own duties. The iryō-nin in higher positions transitioned to management and only took on the more challenging cases when they had more free time, but they were usually poached by clan shinobi.

“Good for him. You’re doing some impressive work, I heard,” Takuma said.

It wasn’t like there hadn’t been groups supporting civilian-born shinobi before. There were many active even now, but rarely did any grow at the rate Momoe’s group was growing, which had a lot to do with the leadership. The people who started and led the groups were well-meaning for the most part, but they rarely had the reach of influence to help others in major ways. Of course, something was better than nothing. Momoe, on the other hand, was a rising star, a well-connected chūnin, who was actively courted by the biggest clans, and she was using everything at her disposal to support the people around her. She had been very effective in the short time her little group had been active.

Not to mention, she had the foresight to focus on the future. According to Taro, she had focused on the civilian-born shinobi who were taught by a jōnin from the academy batch below them and had convinced a majority of them to join. Just the fact that someone like her was leading the group was a huge deal.

Whether they would stay would be a challenge when the clans came knocking, but if she could gather more talented people and give them the resources to grow, they could do the same for others.

“I can’t take all the credit. It is and always will be a joint effort… I’ll take fifty per cent,” she said, making him chuckle. “What about it? Thinking about joining us?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Because I think you can make a great role model for oth—” Momoe’s eyes were on the stage, and she slowly turned to look at him. The playful smile she had before was now gone as she looked at him with a serious expression.

“I’m not joking,” he said.

“You better not. I take anything with this very seriously,” she said, now fully facing him. “Why now? I know you understand the value of what I’m doing, but you have never seemed interested in joining.”

“I had my hands full by myself. Didn’t really have the time to think about others,” Takuma said honestly.

“And you have time now?”

“Not really,” Takuma said with a tired scoff, “but you’ve shown me enough to help.”

“Then I welcome you with open arms,” Momoe said. “Let’s sit down soon. I’ll explain how everything works, and you can even introduce yourself at the next meeting.”

Takuma nodded.

“You realise the clans aren’t going anywhere,” he said after a moment of silence.

The excitement Momoe had felt went away, and she sighed. “You think I don’t know that? Of course, I know that—they’ve been here since before the village and they will probably be here until after the village is no more. And I don’t want them to go anywhere. My problem isn’t with the existence of clans; it’s with their practices.”

“Isn’t it natural for family to help each other?” Takuma asked.

Momoe wasn’t an idiot. She realised he was testing her. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, but a family or a bunch of families doesn't need to hoard resources and authority at the scale the clans do. They’re at the point that even if they shared more than they did when the village was created, they wouldn’t even feel it.”

The clans created the village. The first academies were founded by clan shinobi, who sent their members across the country. The village’s jutsu archives were built by the contributions from the clans—most of the A-rank ninjutsu in the village archive were from back then. Their money was used to establish the Hidden Leaf Village before the village secured a contract from the Fire Daimyo that promised a consistent military budget.

No clan would even imagine being so giving nowadays. In their opinion, they had done their duty, and it was their time to reap their benefits, which they had been doing for the past several decades.

No one in power liked to relinquish it, not even a portion of it.

“They could help so many people, and they’d all be grateful. They don’t do it because they don’t need to,” Momoe said. “I just want to make sure that the people who deserve it get what they need to grow and realise their potential. If I have to wrestle it away from those who won’t even feel it missing, then I will do just that.”

“How selfless of you,” Takuma said.

“Is it? Is it selfless?”

“Well, what do you get out of this?”

“The respect and gratitude of many talented individuals who would willingly do me favours for the help they received,” Momoe said.

Takuma smiled. She meant it, and it was certainly true, but at the same time, that wasn’t why she was doing it.

“My teacher extended a helping hand when I needed it the most.” Takuma’s eyes darkened a smidge when he recalled his academy days. Those weren’t pleasant times. “He had no reason to do so; it didn’t help him in any way. He did it because he thought I needed it.”

“He sounds like a great man,” Momoe said, having met Maruboshi.

“The greatest,” he said without hesitation. “I’m not like him. I wish. I don’t think I have a nurturing bone in my body… But I can help others in my own way. I’ll help you help others. That’s about what I can do right now.

“Don’t expect me to be involved personally. I won’t show up to meetings or any other activities that require my presence, so don’t try to get me roped into those.” Takuma stopped Momoe from speaking. “Instead, I’ll help you with something that you desperately need.”

“And what might that be?” Momoe asked, slightly displeased because she wanted him to be heavily involved.

“Access to high-value missions.” Takuma took the glass of drink she was holding to make sure she didn’t drop it. “Your people will go on missions that even some of the clans are envious of.” Not the bigger clans, perhaps, but the smaller clans would find it difficult to offer what Takuma could consistently. “If they are as talented and deserving as you say they are—”

“They are.”

“—then expect to get more. How about it? Is that enough to excuse my absence?”

“... And where are these missions coming from? How are you procuring them?” Momoe asked.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth… But I understand the concern. Don’t worry, I’m not putting you guys under the debt of a clan or something if that’s what you’re concerned about. As long as you guys complete the missions with a high rate of success, it’s all upside,” Takuma said.

“Is it legal?” Momoe asked.

Takuma smiled. “No less legal than how the clans do it”—which lay squarely in the grey, a region of the law he was very experienced in navigating. He sighed when she still looked unsure, which was to be expected. “The clans have all the advantage in the world while you have nothing. If you keep using your influence to help the civilian-born, it’ll create an impression which is sure to sour the clans that are so interested in you sooner or later. If you want this to work, you need to remain attractive so more people come to you. If the clans pull the blacklist on you, that will instantly get much more difficult. You need balance to maintain your position. These missions will allow you to do that, and they’ll make you less dependent on playing the clans to get missions out of them.”

“And where are these missions coming from?”

“From me—a civilian-born shinobi, one who wasn’t even offered a chance to test for a jōnin team because he was just that bad, but who still managed to become a chūnin, and now wants to help others like him. Accept it; there’s no better source.”

Momoe held his gaze before closing her eyes to sigh. “Send them my way. If they are as good as you claim, it’d be immense for recruitment.”

Takuma stopped the passing-by waiter and replaced Momoe’s drink with a full glass before handing it to her. “You won’t be disappointed. Now, I’ve taken enough of your time, and I must return to my friends before they start thinking I fled the table because I was bored.”

Momoe laughed. “You still have to come introduce yourself though. I don’t want people speculating where I’m getting these missions from.”

“… You fight a tough bargain. Deal,” Takuma said, shaking her hand. “See you around, Momoe.”

“Show your face, yeah?”

Takuma nodded and then walked away.

Momoe was sharp, competent, and most importantly, willing to put in the effort to solve a problem. That was a dangerous combination, but she was still a bit immature. He had asked what she was getting out of this, but she hadn’t asked that of him. Perhaps she truly believed that he just wanted to help. If he worked somewhere else, that could’ve been it, but he worked at ANBU; there was always something else going on there.

He would help them now so that they would be his shield in the future.

In a culture where shinobi were always gravitating towards the clans, he was in a position to do the opposite.