empathy (rewritten 2019)

chapter twenty-three

The festival was warm and pink. Keiko left her apartment in the evening to grab dinner and found her street lit by fake cherry blossoms wired to lightbulbs and lanterns. She sighed and locked the door, eyes down as she passed blossom after blossom. Kami, there's so many, she thought as she spotted the trampled patch of petals and pink disaster. How much did the Hokage spend on this?

A lot, she found out upon bumping into him later in the night. But that was not until she stopped by the ramen stand, ordered her bowl, and slumped into her seat with a drink in hand. Maybe she could find Ino and the Hokage and the entire Rookie Nine, steaming at Yakiniku Q's and eating a jolly dinner--but, then again, Keiko was overreacting.

Teuchi and Amaya eyed the jounin from behind the counter, exchanging a worried glance. Keiko used to be a regular customer, buying take-out for her and Sakura before picking the pinkette up from her shift. Ever since the funeral, Keiko stopped, but now that it was the festival, she was back.

"Keiko, haven't seen you in a while," Teuchi said as he laid a glass of water before her. He needed her to sober up before he let her go off on her own. "How are you?" How's the dog, how's your mom, how's it goin'? is what Teuchi would ask for any other customer but goddammit, Keiko had nothing but a strawberry cake and a letter now. Maybe she should get a plant, he thought.

"I'm good, how about you?" She asked. "Business going well, huh?"

He nodded and placed another bowl before another customer. He offered a sympathetic smile. She smiled back, fleeting and tired. "The festival," he tried to continue on. "it looks great, right?"

She nodded along. "Yeah, yeah, it does. So many blossoms."

A few minutes of swishing noodles back and forth and silently sipping the soup went by and Keiko stood, leaving them with twenty-percent tip and an untouched glass of water. She wasn't going down easy tonight. She fixed her vest and stalked down the streets, aimlessly pondering about. Teuchi could do nothing now but clean up the glass and the bowl and set it down for the night.

And she, kicking up unceremoniously-scattered piles of dirtied petals to and fro, found herself by the fountain, which was where the festival was set up. A stage was set up, with performers and singers and dancers trying to keep the night loud and joyous. So much for a birthday, Keiko thought, and wondered if anyone even knew the purpose of this festival.

In the midst of her bitterness, she bumped into a white-robed stranger and cried out a sorry, sir over her shoulder before walking off into the street, until--"Keiko? Is that you?"

She turned around. And bowed. "Hello, Hokage-sama. Fine evening. Have a good night."

He called out before she could walk off once more. "O--Keiko! Wait, I-uh, I just wanna talk a bit, okay?" He tapped her on the shoulder and, upon turning around, she saw his sheepish smile. She, unsmiling, followed him behind the blossoms and lights, just as Sakura had done that one night.

"What is it you'd like to talk about?" She had a tone to her voice. A bite, she could hear it as she sounded those words out. Maybe she should have bit her tongue and let the man ramble, but she was careless tonight.

He thought over his words for a few moments while she stood, staring down at him and his robe and his hat. He said, "I-I know it's her birthday, and uh...I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You wanted to make sure I approved of this festival," she crossed her arms. "Because I didn't approve of anything else."

He paused. And nodded. "Uh, yes, yeah, I just--look, ever since you said all that after the funeral and after that day, well, I don't know--I just really wanna say sorry. I, I'm not good at being Hokage. I don't know how to lead and be a friend. And I guess, that day, it was--"

"It wasn't just that day, don't you know that?" Keiko said. "What, you think she went on that mission and threw herself into a goddamn ditch and die because of that one night someone told her she wasn't fit to be something? She's been told that her entire life, Hokage-san."

"Then," he bit his lips and looked down. And then he took off his hat and rubbed his temples and let loose a frustrated sigh. "Look, I want to try to respect her death. But I don't know what to do, Keiko, and I just--I need you to tell me, please? I hurt her, I know that now, so please, tell me how to fix it. Because no matter what I do--the funeral, the grave, this festival--I mean, it's not doing it, right? I--"

"Naruto-san," Keiko brought them to a nearby bench and sat down, blowing wind into the cold air. "I understand that...I've been a bit tough on you, Hokage-sama. I can't berate you for doing something you don't even know you did. And I understand your attempts to honor her death with the funeral and the festival and all, but your naivety towards her life is what..."

She couldn't find the words, this time. But she anticipated this day--the Hokage, asking what he did wrong, and her, letting loose on pain after pain and screaming it before his eyes so he could see. But screaming never did the trick. She continued, "Look, people misunderstand strangers and their parents' and their friends' lives all the time. And everyone has this memory of her as this young, small girl, dreaming of a prince to sweep her off her feet, and so weak that a single shout would bring her down. But I knew her past that memory. I knew the real her. And she's nothing like that."

Naruto wrung his hands together. "I-yeah, I guess all that time we were a team, I always wanted to protect her, you know, because I cared a lot for her. Even though we each trained hard and came back stronger, I-I don't know, I guess I got used to looking after her. I didn't know it took so much from her."

The two of them stared forward, watching the stage. "I don't want you to live on believing only you were responsible for her death," Keiko spoke, gentler now. She could see the lights clearer now. "A handful more believe that whatever importance they had in their life, they killed her. That a simple word or some look or some action or some childhood drama killed her. I want you, only you, to know something."

Keiko, upon taking the time to sit by this man young in age but old in scars, realized he was honest in heart. He, amongst all the others who wondered about death and why and young, brittle girls, was the one who wondered past the why and considered the hows of how to respect death and honor a woman and remember a friend. He, out of all of them, deserved a simple truth.

"Know what?"

"Kami didn't take her away. Nobody did. And not you." She leaned back. "She did. And, I guess in the end, nothing could have prevented that. She knew what she was doing when she was given that mission."

"Maybe I shouldn't have sent her to Suna."

"No. If she didn't do it then, she would do it at any other chance she got," Keiko said. "She made up her mind and no matter how many times I tried to change it, she just, I don't know, decided."

Keiko looked at the man once more and at his robes. "You know what I want you to do? What she would want you to do?" He nodded and she continued, "I wanted you to know her like I knew her. Know her pain, all those feelings, how much she suffered until her last day. But now that she's gone, all I can ask is...Be a good father. And be a good leader. And be a good friend. You're good at all three, but, I don't know, when you have a child, let them know how much they matter. I think we all need to hear that early on because by the time I tried reminding her that, she just couldn't see her worth anymore."

Naruto nodded. "So, you're not mad at me anymore?"

And she considered it.

Keiko let out a deep breath. "No, no. You're a good guy. You know what it's like to feel...like you don't matter."

Naruto walked out of that festival still never knowing there were smiles Sakura never wore and laughs she never sung and there were times she felt so low and useless at times and that sakura blossoms were never her favorite. But he walked out with a clearer mind.

Past midnight the festival ended and the village awoke hours later to streets, trampled with pink and green.