"Good. I'd been a bit worried it wouldn't be - enough, you know? But once they have a start..."

"People here remember what life was like before Gatou. They'll get back there." He ruffles Naruto's hair.

"Good. Thanks for letting us keep on the mission, sensei. Helping here was good."

"Yep."

One down. Chihiro is... not looking any more abnormal than she usually is, probably fine to leave that for a bit. Sasuke?

Brooding, pretty heavily. Not looking up more than briefly.

All right. Doesn't seem the type to do anything drastic. He can wait. Kakashi flips open his book.

Sugira broods for a while, but eventually says, "This world still sucks."

"Yyep." Kakashi flips another page.

He flops onto his back, and puts an arm over his face. "I don't get - why child soldiers, why not teach people for longer - kids suck at fighting. And at making decisions. And at not getting killed."

"That question has a long and complicated answer. Because of history, I guess, if you want to make it simple. During the Warring Clans era, even rudimentary chakra control was too valuable not to use, and you learned quickly or you died. And we've inherited that legacy. I graduated during the last war at six years old. Half a year later I was a chunin and I made jounin by eight."

He shrugs. "Our magic - you don't even get talent until you're sixteen, usually. And the basics take three years to learn if you're a prodigy. But... People here don't seem to think the system's broken. And..."

He rolls over. Quietly: "Haku's bothering me. In a way that feels like it'll fester."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"My therapist would say I should. I apparently get angry when I don't vent enough." Not that he has a therapist in this world. Which, also, fucked up - seriously as far as they know he's a traumatized child.

"I don't have one of those in my pocket, but I do have two working ears." He taps one demonstratively.

He hums. "Just... I wouldn't have been bothered more than intellectually when I was twelve. When I was twenty, or thirty, even."

A long pause. "But... I had a little sister, in that world."

"She strung together a couple of powers to erase herself from existence. In - a way only the goddess could've undone. Haku... Had a lot of the same justifications she did."

Kakashi hums.

"I didn't hear much of your conversation over there."

"We beat him. I asked Chihiro not to kill him. He told us to kill him, because he'd failed his master, and he was useless, and all he was was a tool."

"That- does sound like the bad old days, yeah. Kiri was never one of the more... modernist villages. There are a lot of bad stories."

Shrug. "My world has some fucked up parts. Idealization of absolute loyalty is one. But... There's conversations about it. Resources for people who end up around assholes and want out." He drags a hand down his face. "Scarcity, death - those aren't that hard with full resources. I... Don't know how to fix shitty culture."

"...They called Zabuza the Demon of the Bloody Mist. Kiri used to have a charming little graduation 'exam'. They took the class out to a field, shrouded it til you couldn't see past the tip of your nose, and told the kids the only way out was to fight. Whoever was left standing was considered to have passed. One year, while he was still a child, Zabuza attended. It wasn't his year, but he went in anyway. Twenty minutes later, he was the only survivor. They stopped that particular tradition after that. Sometimes it's just one piece at a time, using whatever tools you have handy. We heard rumors a couple years back that he'd tried to stage a coup against the Mizukage and fled when that didn't work out."

"...We used to have warlords, and nothing else. Powerful people carving out little shitholes. The level I'd been at was as powerful as anyone got. The Empress Ashur broke that. She conquered everything, killed everyone who opposed her, and then rewrote reality. It took three centuries for shit to settle down. She allows other nations to exist, now, but... I'd rather change things with less drastic measures."

A pause, and, "Maybe ending scarcity would be enough for most of it, though, and my spells can manage death eventually, even if I never find my way home. Or just let someone else handle the people."

"Maybe. If you think you can, I won't say you shouldn't try."

"It's... An important thing to have."

"Having never experienced it personally, I'll have to take your word for it."

"There's a lot less violence. Most live off the basic income for a few decades and just... Explore, or study, or make art." Shrug. "It's... Different."

He feels worn thin, like a rag that's been washed too many times. But, weirdly, it... He thinks it's helped. Firmed up his resolve to fix this place at least, but also now he's tired instead of fit to burst with helpless rage. (Maybe his therapist is onto something.)