歯ぎしり [INV]

[Naitome]

flashback.

...sentences.

The two had begun their conversation practically on accident. Akuharu lay, slowly recovering from near fatal chakra exhaustion as a series of nurses moved in and out of his room, feeding him a number of disgusting liquids through an oddly shaped straw. A single ANBU guard had been stationed to watch over him, and though he was still within the relative safety of Mizu No Kuni, it seemed the paranoia of his village government would not allow to ever truly be unsupervised. He'd been a genin for all of a month, and already, he'd gone through, and passed, the Chuunin exams. The porcelain faced man that entered under cover of night to relay the information and update his official Kirigakure records left a brand new hitai-ite near his bed, and as his attention was focused on its strangely unmarked surface, that's when another patient was brought in to share his room.

He did not recognize anything about them; though he remembered details fairly well, the newcomers face was covered in a series of bandages, as was the majority of their body, and he learned through a bit of eavesdropping that they'd been 'picked up', nearly dead, somewhere near the entrance to the Exam Registration Area. The person was not a shinobi, but also, did not appear to be a criminal, and was brought in by HYDRA operatives for some vital surgery. They'd apparently been through whatever procedure was necessary, and would be in recovery a bit longer than Akuharu himself. But the Kirigakure Genin...no....Chuunin now...found himself restless surrounded by the sterile white walls, and it wasn't long before he grew curious about his roommate. He hobbled from his bed, legs still weak, and peeked around the edges of the thin curtain separating their beds.

Eh..hello?

No answer. The wrapped form of the other person did not so much as twitch in reply to his greeting, and almost on cue, a deep and heavy snoring seeped out from between the gauze. Akuharu shrugged, walking around the bed, glancing at the charts hanging on the wall that showed a complicated chakra coil network, interwoven with what appeared to be black tendrils. Something had attacked this man or woman, and intrigued, he couldn't help but to imagine all sorts of monstrous entities capable of such an injury.

Seems serious. I wonder what happened...

He subconsciously lowered his voice, as if afraid to wake them, and walked back to his own bed, already tired from the effort of moving at all.

"You could always ask, pervert. Won't find out what happened if you're too busy gawking at my files. What'd you find in there, anyway?"

Gahh!

He nearly tumbled from the bed, as a hand pulled the curtain back sharply and he saw a woman standing there, eying him suspiciously. She'd walked in behind him without being heard, and though he still saw the bandaged form on the other bed (and still heard its loud snoring), he turned to address the sleeping figure before regaining his composure.

What are--- how did--- I don't--- pervert?

She looked at him crossly, folding her arms across her chest, then sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

"Shadow clone."

She said, pointing to herself, then jerking her head in the direction of the cast-clad body behind her. Akuharu blushed. He hadn't had many conversations with women, and was always nervous in their presence, and though he tried to maintain a respectful amount of reserve, he could almost not help himself from staring her up and down. The shadow clone's face turned bright red, before she used both hands to cover the area in front of her chest and pull her skirt down at the same time, red eyes flashing outrage.

"You pervert! You did it again! What exactly are you looking at?! They're not that big that you should be staring like that you horn dog!"

But I-- I wasn't-- they're big enou--- I mean--- NO...I was just-- horn dog?

He could barely finish his own...

[Naitome]

vision.

Would you believe there was mist within mist? Sounds simple, right, but silly, like something a child would say. Ambiguous, yeah. Mist inside of Mist, uh, that would just be more mist right, I get it. I really get it.

If there's anybody that understands this Ace, it's me. Mist. Sort of like missed, ya know, funny right? With the whole --

And it gestured towards a series of arrow wounds riddling the non-corporeal glow that was its spiritual form. It looked like any other casualty of war, or perhaps of destruction, the absence of war but the lingering hatred and cruelty. All the pain without any of the patriotism. Akuharu lowered his head and pretended to smirk lightly, as if concealing the greater urge to burst with laughter, but he did not find the similarity of the words amusing. He wondered if acting sincere well enough would get the response he desired.

Morbid, Yama-ji.

<sub>A pause. He did not care for whatever this spirit thing had been, but why the affectation of closeness? As if this were his grandfather, as if they were beyond formality when they weren't. Because it would engender trust. Trust allows individuals to stand out enough to be identified as targets, which can be destroyed or manipulated for victory. Trust implants weakness. Build weakness before the assault has begun in order to ensure your opponents defeat. Everyone is an opponent. Trust everyone and they will be weak. Trust that everyone will lie and deceive you and kill you and in that way you will always be able to kill them.

Why do I think like that?</sub>

You okay Ace?
I'm fine. Just thinking about buying a shield.

The two laughed at that, and Akuharu removed the blank scroll from his side, pointing towards it and handing it out to the phantom slowly twirling in a gust from the inside of the cave. They were beneath the Kage's Tower, in the ruins of ugly pipework metal and exhaust fumes that billowed downwards, curved awkwardly by unnatural thermals and heated rock. They could not see through the thick chemical fog slicking the caverns sides with black, but a little of the spirit's visible chakra reflected off the mess and lit the dry parchment in dust well enough to read.

On its center was a single word...

HERE

...that appeared just as it was brought beneath the glow.

Tell me about the Mist within the Mist. What is it? What does that even mean?

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[Naitome]

vision.

Well, I'll tell you, since there's really no point not to, not anymore. Not with The Six Paths of the Moon currently, uh...well...dead.

The Mist Within The Mist. It's a metaphor, you understand these? It's like a symbol. You can hide something within something used to hide something. So the question you've got to ask yourself, as a ninja, is this; IF someone is capable of hiding something, will they do it? And the answer, of course, to anyone who would dare claim to be a ninja, is...yes. Of course they would. So it makes you think, right? Right, it makes you really sit down and think.

What's hiding in the Hidden Mist?

And the answer?

Ninja's. I win.

And the spirit creature guffawed loudly at this.

Well, yes. Of course, ninjas. You're hiding behind every sandal strap and fly. But what would be the easiest thing to hide if you were going to hide something inside of a bunch of mist?

Tree's?

No you fool! More mist. And what kind of mist would be valuable to your dead pirate master?

Akuharu thought a moment, before his mind put the obvious together. But he would not believe, could not, that his Master would be so bold. He chuckled almost in spite of himself; true mirth this time. At the genius of the man he dared admire; his father and his torturer and his victim.

You can't be serious. He actually stole the--

Mists of the Diseased Coil? Absolutely. There's a lake a few meters deeper into the cave where they just sort of...float there...being misty and mysterious and what have you.

You mean you haven't...gone in?

Are you insane? Even spirits get gnashed together in there; i'm not turning into a six foot glass turtle-slug or something because of an idle curiosity.

Where's this lake again?

And the spirit shook his head side to side, a look of disappointment, a sigh; he rubbed a chin that wasn't there and stared at the floor before bringing his hands swiftly together, like praying.

Just walk straight ahead Ace. Just walk straight ahead and you'll get there. Good Luck.

Thanks. Hopefully there won't be any arrows.

And Akuharu smiled wide, with the perfect affectation of emotions he did not feel, and sped past the apparition in a blurring of movement. The spirit followed the black outline of his passage as he grew nearer to the lake, before looking away. It's eyes closed as if in pain.

And now you go to die Akuharu.

He cried out suddenly, in anguish. The image of tears disturbing the chakra-fused static.

They're going to kill you again.

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[Naitome]

vision.

Nothing moved. He would wade through body-thick fog for hours at a time awaiting the cold tingle of change from mists lined in glowing blue lights and feel nothing at all, only to sit suddenly, defeated, or move his hand over the mask concealing his lower jaw expectantly. In the vision before; the dream that was not a dream but somehow explained why he walked the surface of an underground lake inhaling heat-absent steam, there had been no scar or disfigurement, he'd even smiled. But through the glaucoma of memory glassed with doubt, smiling was not possible. His voice was a shrewd whisper barely higher than the surface of the water, a wound in the surrounding sound and not the noises of a real person.

Deeper still. Where the crag split into broken piles dotting the rock like animal droppings around the nearest shore, into the Veil of Spiritual Corruption, the Shademire, the Dark Echo of Madness, the Unnamed. This had been the ultimate treasure of his former captain. This was the Horde of the Moon.

_{They say the mist itself is a living thing. That is was cursed by ancient practitioners of an artform higher and older than ninjutsu, proud warrior monks guarded a tiny wet puff that skirted the outer edge of a golden cage frantic to explore the world. For thousands of years, it is believed that the being remained 'imprisoned', a pet and an exhibition, and was protected against the black things that stalk the nightmares of the Tailed Beasts. But one day it was taken. One day, a pirate known as the Six Paths of The Moon simply walked up and took it.}

For all the Mist's reported exploits, Akuharu was quite unimpressed. It had not attempted to swallow him whole, as it had apparently done to the entire village of Akario'lr in the Tetsu No Kuni Scrapgraves. He'd not become a turtle-slug, he did not think at least, though this made him wonder whether or not turtle-slug's gave serious contemplation to the nature of their existence, and made him a bit uneasy as he pushed handfuls of moist air away from his face. With a sigh, he allowed a flickering of chakra to wind its way towards his eyes, the black soon boiled over in blood red and expanded, as his pupil tear-dropped into a tiny spinning comma. Through his Sharingan, the mist finally and gracefully changed.

It was indeed, alive.

Or at least, it could have been, it was difficult to find words to describe what he saw. His head hurt to hold the complexity of it. He observed chakra flow through channels twisting like mazes through the air itself, like the thin skein of arteries blistering up and piercing fat callouses of energy which popped and spilled shining particles and exploded into fragmented columns each second. It was beautiful and terrifying. Something was sick; there was a tumorous swelling of spiritual energy that corckscrewed a tainted black braid through the mist's center and pulsed with wrongness. As he'd moved through it unaware, it had spent its time wrapping around him, fixing him inexplicably to the things core. A predatory twitch of nerve-like smoke detached from a bubble of water and moved towards him, it grew darker the nearer it got. He braced himself.

The lake

split

into

p

i

e

c

e

s

and he tried to correct his balance before

|SPLASH|

The chakra keeping his feet atop the lake extinguished without warning and Akuharu's body plunged beneath the water.

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[Naitome]

vision.

Air. Air. This was his only thought as the black coil of diseased chakra intertwined with the mist spread hardened tentacles under the surface of the lake. It constricted in rhythm with his panicked motions, his flailing and fighting, each gasp for breath punctuated by a newer smaller fall into the waiting water. When his head broke the surface, he would draw in a deep breath of the mist, further trapping himself, only to be forced back down as he felt his body cocooned in raw energy. The dull tingle he'd been expecting was delivered a thousand fold; pain replaced all reasonable thought with screaming as the mist invaded his cells and soon all that was left of Akuharu were two small red lights drowning in the distant echoes of waves. The black coil dragged him lethargically to the furthest shore, threw him onto cave-stone like a shell, left him there.

And then he woke.

LOOKS LIKE THE SULTRY SLAVE GIRL SEER OF SHANGRI-LA, THE MID-TOWN MID-WIFE, THE NEREID KNOCKOUT, IS CRUISING FOR A BRUISING AS SHE FACES PHYREXIA'S REIGNING CHAMP-ION, A MINDLESS MEAGER BRUTE OF BRUTISH MEATY MINDLESSNESS, THE TAILED WAILER, A RARE ROOK-SCORPION OF THE DREAD FOREST!!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD WILL SHE DO NEXT?!!?!

Akuharu's vision adjusted. He did not understand what he saw and heard and was forced out of the daze of near drowning by...applause?

He appeared to be in an arena. His Sharingan eye darted back and forth between the massive insect bearing down on what appeared to be an unarmed and quite terrified young woman, and the surrounding crowd that packed the nearby stands to capacity. The crowd was elevated above him; the arena itself was little more than an open pit where a few colored tent wrappings were strewn along cheap metal poles like banners and where the brunt of the sun could be avoided if one stuck to the sides. He cast his head from side to side, searching for some visible exit, and saw only the arena curve in on itself, a miracle of topography that made sense and didn't. It was a closed loop that ran backwards and forwards through rock girders and carved bone, or it was an electrified grating, or a wall of ice. His Sharingan could not tell what it was, and the flow of chakra distributed throughout the area was abysmally low; even the 20 meter scorpion bearing down on the helpless girl hungrily had lower levels of the famed energy then he would come to expect.

[/sub][/ul]

He was already a blur along the sands.

[/sub]
[/ul]
The crowd roared.
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[Naitome]

vision.

IS THIS A NEW CHALLENGER?!? SEEMS THE SULTRY SLAVE GIRL HAS FOUND HERSELF A HERO! WILL HE BE ABLE TO STAND UP TO THE AWESOME MIGHT OF THE DREAD FOREST'S MOST EFFICIENT PREDATOR? AND LOOK! IT'S GETTING READY TO STRIKE HIM DOWN! WATCH THE TAIL FOLKS! WATCH AND BE ---

From their vantage point, they watched as Akuharu's placed himself directly into the scorpion's path, and with the tiniest amount of effort possible, drove his wrist between the things massive eyes before popping the blade attached to it, and pushing down and through its jaw, dragging its brain through to the ground. He crushed its head into the dirt of the arena floor in one single motion, and its body twitched to complete stillness, while the audience seemed to hold their breath. The fight was already over.


...


WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOLKS?!?!? UN-BE-LIEVABLE!!!! THE HERO'S DONE IT!!!! HE'S DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!! DID YOU SEE THAT!?!?!? MAKE SURE YOU DIDN'T BLINK OR YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED IT! WHAT SKILL! WHAT SHOWMANSHIP! HE'S TRULY AS FIERCE A COMPETITOR AS I'VE EVER SEEN COMPETE IN THIS COMPETITION!!!


And the crowd took a moment to take in the announcer's words, which boomed from all angles without seeming to truly come from anyone. Then they erupted with cheers that drowned out even the overly excited voice of the master of ceremonies. Akuharu turned to face the young woman, who sat down in a fatigued heap and looked at the young Kirigakure shinobi as if he were a worse creature than the monster he'd slain.

Are you alright?

He asked carefully, showing her the palms of his hands as the wrist-blade slid back into place, a disarming gesture.

You...you are...you move like...like a shadow creature...

I was only trying to help. I didn't want it to hurt you.

What are you?

Where I'm from it's customary to ask who someone is, not what they are, and only after giving your own name first.

I...I am called Magda'l. Who are you, shadow-creature-thing?

Hello Magda'l.

Akuharu smiled as he looked down at her.

My name is A-

CHAMP-ION!! STEP FORWARD AND CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!!! A LIFE FOR A LIFE!!! THAT IS THE WAY IT HAS BEEN SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL!!!! HERO!! WHAT IS YOUR NAME!!??!?

Akuharu paused as he tried to look 'towards' the sound, but could not distinguish a chakra flow responsible for the garish greeting. He walked slowly towards the center of the opened wide arena and spoke instead towards the crowd, straining to lift his voice above the ruckus. His instinct told him to lie, to conceal his identity, but he also could not shake the feeling that his was some mixup, and perhaps on hearing the truth they might provide him with some answers.

I AM AKUHARU UCHIHA. WHAT IS THIS PLACE?

He'd expected no reaction. Perhaps the slight bit of awe mixed with jealousy and fear that mention of his surname often brought out, perhaps just a muffled sigh of recognition, an acknowledgment of his clan's fame. But mostly, he expected nothing at all. He was in a strange place, surrounded by strange occurrences; it would not make sense to be recognized here, but he apparently had nothing to lose that he had not already lost.

The crowd was instantly, deathly silent.

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[Naitome]

vision.

SURELY...YOU ARE....CONFUSED, HERO? WHAT IS YOUR TRUE NAME?

I AM NOT CONFUSED, EXCEPT BY THE FACT THAT MY QUESTION HAS GONE UNANSWERED. WHERE AM I? WHAT SORT OF PLACE IS THIS. I DO NOT TAKE KINDLY TO BEING HELD AGAINST MY--

SILENCE, FOOL.

At first, he thought an explosion had gone off, but it hadn't. Someone had simply walked into view, appearing before him as if out of thin air, a collection of chakra that easily dwarfed Akuharu's own and almost made his head reel from the site of it. No one spoke after the being did, and Akuharu was shocked into silence only because it seemed that the mention of his name was for some reason, taboo.

WE WILL NOT ASK AGAIN. WHAT IS YOUR NAME. NO JOKES THIS TIME. WE DO NOT THINK YOU ARE FUNNY. YOU WILL SPEAK ONLY TO ANSWER THIS QUESTION; WHAT. IS. YOUR. NAME?

And throughout the arena, Akuharu's heard slight whispers gather through the wind. It's the King, why's he here, what will happen now, why would he say he was Akuharu Uchiha? Akuharu stared at the being who grew ever closer, as he let his Sharingan fade into coal black spheres and took in this 'king'. He was a bit taller than Akuharu, bulkier, with long black hair and a mask covering the entirety of his face. He wore a simple outfit of gray-black armor and walked forward as if his steps were the heaviest on all of earth. Akuharu looked at him without fear, not from bravery, but from frustration.

I am not joking, and do not understand why anyone would think i was being funny. My name is Akuharu Uchiha. I am a genin of the Village Hidden In The Mi--

Without warning, the man was upon him, a fist planted into the young man's chest, knocking him backwards. Before the chakra could be called back to his eyes, he was struck again, this time an open palmed strike that forced him down, taking the breath from his body as the 'King' pivoted, pushing more of his considerable body weight behind the blow. He stomped Akuharu's stomach once, twice, then grabbed him by the back of his neck with his left hand while the right drew an enormous sword and pressed it against the Kirigakure shinobi's now exposed throat.

YOU MOST CERTAINLY, ARE NOT AKUHARU UCHIHA, boy. YOU ARE NOT NOW, NOR WILL YOU EVER BE A GOD. THAT NAME IS RESERVED..

The man slammed his head back down into the sand, as Magda'l backed away from the voices and the sounds of violence. The only other sounds were from the announcer, who seemed to have regained his composure and was now filling the crowd in on what they'd already seen.

...AND IT SEEMS THE HERO WILL STICK TO HIS CLAIMS TO BE NONE OTHER THAN OUR KING HIMSELF, AKUHARU UCHIHA! WHAT NEW EXCITEMENT WILL UNFOLD!??!

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[Naitome]

vision.

He took a moment to compose himself, spitting out clods of gathered sand becoming mud as they mixed with sweat and blood from the man's pummeling. He kicked out from underneath the man's grasp turning wildly, his left leg arching up to catch the corner of the man's left shoulder as his right aimed for the side of his shin's. His right hand withdrew Akurojin-no-hi and stabbed it into the ground as his left foot connected, while the left hand unleashed a marked tag thrown in a lazy overhanded spiral that caused the king to jerk back his head with startling quickness, blocking the kick with one hand as the other swatted at the projectile wildly.

As his hand made contact with its metal, a tiny explosion blew both men back...or would have, had Akuharu's grip not been securely attached to the naginata sunk deep into the earth. He curled into the fetal position, placing both feet against the pole-arm's shaft, and pushed off in that next second, following the king's limp path thrown cheaply across the sands. He was upon the King before the man could catch his bearings, and with a second kunai in hand, he thrust straight down, the metal blade splitting the mask at its center, and finally revealing...

...it was...

...it was Akuharu. It was his face. Free of the disfigurement. Enraged. Snarling and spitting stupidly in humility. But it was his own face. Only the eyes were different. The three spinning tomoe at their center bloomed outwards, tinted with black; this was not a Sharingan he'd ever seen before.

What...is this...what....what manner of thing are you? What..what's happened...

As he spoke, he was surrounded suddenly by an armed guard. The edges of several spears were pressed into his flesh with enough force to draw blood from each of their tips, as he sat crouched over the King, his body as still as death.

GET HIM OFF OF ME YOU WORTHLESS INCOMPETENTS, SEND HIM TO THE MINES! DO YOU SEE THIS??? HE HAS STRUCK YOUR KING, BURN OUT HIS EYES AND CUT OFF ONE OF HIS ARMS AND FILL HIS THROAT WITH SPIDERS AND LET HIM BE RAPED BY WOLVES IN THE SHADE-LANDS. DROWN HIM IN A--

But the guards moved to do no such thing. They prevented Akuharu from moving himself, but did not otherwise seem interested in harming him. One of the braver ones cleared his throat and nodded towards the slowly decomposing body of the Scorpion, as it slowly molded back into sand and shadow. Magda'l ran forward, trying to say something, but a guard respectfully pushed her back and turned to address the King.

Your Highness, I understand your...anger...at the boy's impertinence for claiming to be...you...however, he did defeat the Ruk'sran'phyrex. According to your own law, that alone is enough to buy his freedom, as well as to grant him legal ownership of the match's surviving participants. Perhaps...

The King did not listen, had continued as if nothing was being said

--IN DRAKE VOMIT AND FEED HIM TO VULTURE DEMONS AND BOIL HIS HEART IN SOUP AND BURY HIM IN GLASS IN THE AKUHOU AND T--

Perhaps he was merely being superstitious. You know how simple the slave folk are. Everyone knows that only Akuharu Uchiha could defeat such a beast so easily, and i'm sure he only meant that he has not been given a true name yet, and wishes to fight on your behalf.

The guard looked down at him, a large man, rough-cut, like a chip of stone in armor, and signaled for the others to remove their spears.

That is what you meant, isn't it?

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[Naitome]

vision.

In his mind he heard a voice speak plainly to him.

Say Yes. Tell them what they want to hear or you'll die.

He looked around, confused.

Say YES you stupid handsome shadow-creature-thing!

Yes. Of course, my lord.

Akuharu said cautiously, bowing and removing himself from the King's body.

I did not mean to attack while you were..so graciously correcting my impertinence. It will not happen again.

_{Because the next time, i will cut off your entire head.}

The King brushed himself off and looked at him long and hard, then up towards the crowd awaiting his response. This could quickly turn into a bad situation; he did not need the hundreds of thousands in attendance to realize that they outnumbered the King and his Guard at least thirty to one, not now, not when he was so close. A guard looked away from him but thrust a hand out at the same moment, one carrying a new mask, and the King snatched it rudely before strapping it to his face and bellowing for all in attendance to hear.

YOUR KING IS IN A GRACIOUS MOOD. I WILL ALLOW THE champion TO KEEP HIS LIFE, ALONG WITH THE SPOILS OF VICTORY.

He motioned at Magda'l and two others behind her, who'd previously been hiding in the shadow of an overturned pillar. A few guards sauntered over and exchanged words, before harshly shoving them towards Akuharu.

SINCE YOU DO NOT HAVE A NAME, I WILL GIVE YOU ONE. THAT BEAST YOU SLEW...IT IS DEATH INCARNATE, AND TO MEET IT IN BATTLE IS TO WILLING WALK INTO DEATH'S GRASP. BUT AS YOU HAVE SOMEHOW MANAGED TO RETURN FROM SUCH A JOURNEY, FROM THIS DAY FORTH, YOU SHALL BE KNOWN...AS KAESARETA.

He leaned in then, towards Akuharu, his words barely above a growl.

I have shown you mercy, for their sake. Leave my city by nightfall, or I WILL have you hunted down, and killed. The girl too.

The King bowed to the loud applause of the sated arena before turning and shimmering off into the distance.

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[Naitome]

vision.

Take your property and go. The travel stones have been unlocked for you and your slaves passage, but no one else. Go. Over there.

A guard said, pointing towards the furthest wall where a small blue stone glowed with irregularly shaped kanji. Akuharu bowed and walked in its direction, noticing that Magda'l and her 'friends' followed quickly in step. She came forward and touched his shoulder lightly, almost fearfully, before looking into his eyes with curiosity.

Are you alright?

Yes. Thank you, by the way, for saving me with the guard. I didn't actually know what to say.

What do you mean? I did nothing...

The voice. In my head. Telling me to agree with them or that they'd kill me. Obviously that was you. I'm guessing you're a Yamanaka? Is that why they call you a 'Seer'? I've read about your clan in the Academy.

Magda'l looked perplexed and embarrassed; a harrowing complexity to say the least, and seemed to choose her words carefully before she spoke again.

You...heard...me say something to you?

Well, not heard. Your thoughts. Who else could it have been. You called me a 'handsome shadow-creature-thingie'.

I DO NOT think you are handsome, it was not like that exactly, and anyway, how...why...oh gods...i don't even...

And she seemed almost too frustrated to continue, but nevertheless, did.

How can you do these things? Your powers; your speed and skill, these things cannot be learned. You are as fast if not faster than the king, and he is able to wield the Blackness and cast magics...where are you from? What land would you call home?

I am from Mizu No Kuni.

Magda'l looked at him in a placating manner, as if he hadn't answered her, and there was an awkward silence.

Mizu No Kuni? The Land of Water?

Well of course you are, I didn't expect you to be from another planet. WHERE in Mizu are you from? Which fiefdom?

Fiefdom? What are you talking about? I am a shinobi of Kirigakure No Sato. My allegiance is to the Mizukage.

....

She looked at him even more perplexed. She seemed completely unfamiliar with what he was talking about. He crouched down in the sand and drew out a crude and child-like map of the world. He indicated the major nations and minor, and singled out Mizu No Kuni, then drew a dot to represent Kirigakure.

There. In Mizu No Kuni, i'm from this point. Kirigakure. The Hidden Mist Village.

She looked at him and smiled, unsure, then knelt beside him and inspected the map.

You draw the world as it was far before the time of even the first King. This...

And she encircled the entire map, erasing the symbols that expressed the other major and minor nations, and gesturing towards both the new and old worlds, forming the map into a globe.

...This is Mizu No Kuni. Everything, is Mizu no Kuni.

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[Naitome]

He woke.

The last fading images of sleep fractured in his minds eye, and the shards that remained fought hard to form a coherent memory, but failed. He experienced only a profound feeling of lost, the sensation that something vital to who he was had been left incomplete.

He was in Mizu No Kuni, near the simple collection of temporary homes that housed whatever traveling shinobi were willing to pay for lodging, within the heart of a cliffside cave overlooking the coast. The fire he'd started the night before had been extinguished early into his frantic sleep, and he scattered the ashes over the edge of the high stone, sighing to himself, reflecting.

He had a long journey ahead; the mission he'd been given by the Mizukage could not be put off forever, and in order to secure his future, he would have to gain power, by whatever means necessary. But power to what end? he wondered, gathering his things and beginning the slow walk back towards the village. A hammer could be used to break or to build, and in making that decision, he'd define the purpose of more than just the next few days, but the entirety of his life.

He did not notice how the shadows seem to follow him as he walked, how everything grew colder, regardless of how high the sun climbed into the sky. By nightfall, he'd cleared a good portion of the mainlands, and watched with intrigue as the larger cities gave way to smaller, simpler towns.

When he came to a small inn, and entered inside, paying for a modest room and eating, before retreating gracefully into sleep, he had no idea that he'd been followed.

[Naitome]

dream.

He was 13. Still a young man, and he was not aboard the Jagganath, his home at sea. He was on an island, off the coasts of Tsuki No Kuni, and he was stood before an enormous man, and two far smaller women.

One of the women is an adult, larger and older then Akuharu, and the other is a girl about the same age as he. The smaller girl does not look at him, seemingly concerned with a bizarre animal she holds like a pet. The woman stares at him, smiling. The large male only nods in his direction, his face impossible to read.

Akuharu has had his legs chained, so that even if he would like to run, he would not get very far. He and several members of his crew were captured in the night, and brought before this man and his own people; the fear emanating from his crewmates is almost tangible. The boy is unafraid. He is the only one amongst them who can speak with the Kruach Ahm Kettai in their native tongue, and he understands what is happening. There is a flash of lightning out of the clear sky that startles and surprises them all and...

...he grits his teeth, as the blade is driven deeper into the masked man before him, watching as the bodies of the girls parents hang from hooks along the tiny village hut, and her eyes widen in terror and anger as Akuharu kills their murderer, the tomoe in his eye spinning and spinning and...

...he places his hand on the girls own, and she smiles even though tears run down her face, and the fire of her parents funeral service throws smoke into the air. He hears the new chief, a darker man he has not before seen, as he promises the girl to Akuharu, his prize, his reward for avenging their clan, and he is given honor in the form of blood offerings and he hears her receive his new title and..

...they kiss and...

[Naitome]

He experiences a sensation of pleasure unlike anything he has felt before. It radiates through his body. It takes several seconds for him to realize that he is awake, that there is a small bit of light from a candle nearly burned to nothing, and that there is a body straddling his own. A large mess of black hair covers his face, and he hears the heavy, quickened breathing of another, as a woman rises slowly, looking into his eyes, her cheeks flushed. He looks down and his eyes widen; they are both quite naked, their midsections violently pressed into one another, and with an animalistic growl the woman leans towards him, and bites the center of his forehead just enough to redden the skin.

Garakh'o nan yore'sa, p'rate tetek ogan, Jelen'a mos eis mos, brak'ku Yl'Akuharu Jelen'a.

The woman speaks to him quietly, a fierce smile of conquest spreading against her fanged mouth as she clenches her legs around him more tightly. His look of astonishment does not fade. She is speaking High Kettai. It is Jelen'a. His Jelen'a.

Yash'a a'uset heru, garakh'o ind'e cakar, esser llor'lida pa'prat Yl?!

He responds, her considerable strength not allowing him to move his body. She has told him that when he last saw her, she was promised to him, back when she was only herself. Now she is of age, and she is his.

He asks her what they have done, why she would find him in such a way, when he'd long ago freed her from the bonds of slavery.

She grinds her lower half against him and growls again. Her voice is like the sound of some wild animal, forced into civility, but still untamed.

Yl'Akuharu, shet'sa onari yak ya'Tula moru. Pirra fel shull'et y'sin drakuz Mak'k. Ha'lla shet'sa. Bil'jana shet'sa. Hii'gren korot zil yaffeche ja'cesh heru pa'prat. Shet'sa, shet'sa, shet'sa...

And she calls him master and grinds against him even as she speaks, biting at his ear regardless of how he moves his face away from hers, and she assures him that she belongs to him, forever, forever, forever...

Nomm'ye Jelen'a...

He tries to protest, but she is of the Kruach Ahm Kettai; her skin itself is enough to drive all common sense from his mind, the pheromones she exudes are impossible to overcome, and he has bathed in the atmosphere of her scent, unaware, for hours. His mind begins to cloud as he feels himself succumb to her words, feels his body respond to hers, and he cannot stop her any more than he can stop himself.

Shet'sa Akuharu'hii'gren. Toi'e ha'lla, tuk moie Hii'gren sakh yelor gran'ta grenii...

But he cannot think, cannot respond. He moves against her, and her against him, and those in the rooms around them hear sounds that rouse them easily from sleep throughout the rest of the night.

When, hours later, they finally exhaust themselves and the sun rises from the dark of night, they sleep completely entangled in one another, and no dreams disturb that peaceful time.

[Naitome]

A sharp knocking on the door brings them to consciousness. Jelen'a is at once up and in a blurring of steps, pressed against the door, completely undressed, her Nodachi in hand. She snarls and throws it open, point the blade out at nearly the same moment she turns the knob, its tip coming to rest against the exposed throat of a young man wearing the symbol of the Inn's employee's. He restrains a scream, suddenly flushed with sweat, and his cheeks gain a red tint as he observes the naked woman before him.

"w-w-w-was just...c-c-coming to c-c-collect the day's r-r-rent. only p-paid for one d-d-d-day. p-p-please don't...c-c-cut off anything.."

A small voice said in reply, and Akuharu wrapped the bedsheet around his waist before rising and coming to the door, lightly pushing aside Jelen'a's weapon. She growled in slight protest and folded her arms across her chest, speaking up in a raspy tone of anger.

Te'shul mara ne chio'rra sef heru mos'larkh, ta'xxet.

And Akuharu tried to dismiss the insult and threat as he replied to the man.

Sorry about that. She doesn't speak the language. I didn't realize we'd stayed here so long. You can add another...three nights to the books. Don't worry about bringing anything up to the room. Thank you.

as you wish sir. very good sir. we will sir. sorry sir.

And he scrambled away as if all the demons of hell were after him. Akuharu shut the door and rested his forehead against its heavy oak structure, trying desperately to clear the fatigue and confusion from his mind. He looked over at Jelen'a, who eyed the bedsheet around his waist with obvious hunger before dropping her sword, and falling to the floor with her head bowed.

Molim te pra'khar, Hii'gren.

You don't have to apologize Jelen'a. You did nothing wrong. And stop calling me Master. You were released from my service years ago.

But she did not react to his words, only shook, her body seeming, oddly enough, incredibly afraid. She most likely had not yet learned any of the languages of the shinobi nations, and he marveled at just how she'd found him at all.

Khajer mol jhem'vol ya'assar, Jelen'a? Nassan. Nassan.

He asked her, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder in reassurance.

Jha'kesh mii n'taro sal sal'erin! Sal sal'jut no kel ru'n inich'rakh mesei Hii'gren!

She said, her voice quite fearful, her head attempting to sink lower into the floor. The moment his hand touched her exposed skin, he felt it again. The rush of pheromones that communicated far more than just her intent; she was afraid. She had done something he had not wished, and she was worried he would dismiss her. Harm her. Hurt her for her transgression.

His face softened and he knelt besides her, partially lifting her up to eye level as he did so.

I'm not going to hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you, Jelen'a. Shel jha'kesh ru'n mesei morra ga'les pa'prat heji. Net'sa. Net'sa. Sa'tuval curesh.

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, as he explained that they were no longer in Tsuki No Kuni, no longer amongst her clan. The violence that ruled her culture was not his way. She smiled suddenly and reached for him again, her free-hand tearing away that bedsheet that covered his lower half as she forced him backwards, her hands now holding down his wrists. She leaned forward, biting him in the center of the forehead lightly once more, her legs wrapped around his midsection with sufficient strength to hold him in place.

Ii'yula, Hii'gren. Ir'ast nelem urokk hai'te sheth'an, toie Ha'lla morra mii inich'rakh p'prat'eler, moie Hii'gren'sov.

He felt his mind slip away yet again, and as she began biting her way down the length of his neck, he tried to get a clear answer from her.

I'm not trying to reject you...you know that I...can't...anyway...I just don't want you...to be doing this...because you feel you...have to...sa'shet kor satesh'li...Yl mii, narakh'essen...

But her lower body seemed fastened to his permanently, and each movement she made seemed to further relieve him from common sense.

Not released. Want you. Master. Not reject Jelen'a. Shu'llar Jelen'a. Shu'llar Jelen'a shet'sa...

And he did not reject her. He clung to her like she was air and he was a drowning man, and he was caught in the overwhelming flood of her growling as she moaned out, almost as if she were in pain, but smiled.

They did not stop until neither of them could move, and another day passed as easily as the first.

[Messatsu!]

+140!