the rendezvous | fb

[susumu]

Had war not been enough the first time? The first great war had initiated between the village he represented proudly, Sungakure, and Konohagakure, it was amazing how that one village had such an impact on the world, on the nation. “People never learn,” said the elders, veterans from the previous war, with hanging heads and weary eyes. To the youth they spoke cryptically, foreboding, “War is never what you read, and never what you know. . .even when you live through so many. . .” Those icy words gripped and clutched the shinobi hearts, so many felt their knees shake and tremble, others felt their stomarchs lurch and churn while those with weaker stomachs upheaved their insides all among the sands, into the ranks.

“Ewww!”

Exclaimed a boy, young and energetic, whose morale was higher than any other, without a doubt. He stepped out of line, out of file, green eyes looking horrified at his feet, where to his disgust some of the puke had splattered on him.

“Disgusting! Man, if you're going to puke--”

“Shinobi! Back in line!” Shouted a superior officer, a joūnin.

“But, joūnin, there's--”

“No excuses! You're holding everyone up, back in line!”

“Uhh,” he whimpered shifting his gaze to his shoes, breakfast was eggs, disgusting.

“In line! NOW!” The joūnin's voice raised, and with a last pathetic look at his shoes, he, although reluctant, stepped back in line. Standing on his toes, so that least no more of the vomit(currently underneath his soles) would get on him.

“Sorry, man, I just couldn't hold it. . .”

Came a miserable voice from behind him, a fellow brother of the arms – the shinobi of Sunagakure, but he wasn't mad, not mostly at him.

“No worries, no worries, just wish those old geezers would keep it down. Jeez, as if war isn't enough, they're trying to weaken us before we see combat. 'Sides, it's only war, we'll be fine.”

Isaak, seven years ago, a carefree smile plastered about his face as he, and suna shinobi, marched out to a small town along Sunagakure's border to rendezvous with allied shinobi from Iwagakure, Konohagakure and Kumogakure.

[susumu]

How many of them would not return home? The citizens of Sunagakure pondered eeriely with each other as the shinobi passed through the gates, disappearing into the harsh buffeting winds of Kaze no kuni. It was a sad thing, the people of this country were survivors and naturally their lives were full of suffering and misery. But this war, this pretense of a war, was something they could not accept without losing a bit of their souls. They already suffered at the hands of Kirigakure, and now they were just sending more lambs to the slaugther. The Muses would sing of war, death and famine – they would always sing for an eternity and eternities to come but would Sunagakure be there? Could they survive this eternity, the war of Kouketsu Uchiha.

Dionysus, a town along sunagakure's border known for its wine, is a pub for all kinds of criminal activity. An underworld within the sands that focused essentially on drugs, the trafficking of drugs and slaves; while on the surface it is known for its import and exports of wine. It would be a long time, however, before the marching shinobi would reach their destintation that was pouring in and out with allied shinobi and rouges, respectively. The march would only feel longer, more saddening, as the elders continued to speak in weary tones carring doleful words.

“Jeez, those guys just don't shut up do they?”

Isaak offered his words to the hanging head, even the shinobi to his back remained quiet – everyone was thinking, worried, scared.

“Sheesh, wish they'd just shut up for a moment so I could think, ugh. I wonder where we're going?”

His question sparked a brief, unnatural, silence from those around him – they were shocked. He couldn't be serious, an unamity thought that beckoned one to answer him, to play along.

“Dionysus,” said a raspy voice to his left, “you do know why we're going there, right?”

“I've been there! Yeah, a few times when I was younger, mom and dad would put on a show or two – but we never stayed-”

“Is that a no?” interruption came from the same, raspsy, voice, prompting Isaak's emerald eyes to shift on him.

“It was going to be a long lecture, so I decided to sleep. We're going there to get a breifing on the next task, is what I remember. . .”

Another brief silence took those around him, he wasn't serious, was he?

“We're rendezvousing with other, foreign, allied shinobi and then, we're going to get a briefing.”

“Boor-ing. Sheesh, it's just 'on the way,' sums up that long lecture-”

“Breifing, not a lecture.”

“Briefing, lecture, call it what you like – it was a waste of time, now if we had carriages, I wouldn't mind, at least I could catch up on some Zs on the way there."

There was nothing but silence bar the winds howl that came and went with the buffeting sands.

[susumu]

Only a fool could conquer the world; the world was a fool's game. Any could attempt to conquer the world, any could dream of being its ruler – yet, who would be so privledged to actually sit on its throne? Kouketsu Uchiha? The name was just an omen to many whose features spelled death. There would be hardly be anything separating one from death, but among these shinobi how many would perish nameless?

“There is a fool – remember this well, shinobi like him will die first. Feel no regret, no burden nor remorse, for he will die just another nameless tool of war, the first of any of us.” Said a husky voice who had risen to spirits enough to let out a chuckle after his words.

“Nameless?” He questioned. “My name is Isaak – if I do die, I'll die with a name, we all will, haha.”

“A fool, indeed. Good for morale, good for the heart.”

“I'm not a fool either, mister.”

“If I recall correctly, in the academy, there's always a fool – how do they even manage to graduate?”

“They don't graduate, they're passed for the better of the army. The best way to inspire an army is through the acts of a fool, humor is good for the soul.”

“I'm not a fool!” He said with a raised voice, not only were they talking about him, but ignoring him too!

“Hey, fool-(“I'm not-”) Isaak, right? Yeah, how'd you graduate?”

“What's the sense in asking him that, we already told you – look, see his spear("It's naginata"). He's one of those brutes, no brains in that head.”

“Haha.”

Laughter came in unison, in harmony from the shinobi shadowing the words of the veterans who, at this point, were beginning to quiet down. There words going ignored and most of the attention centering around Isaak and others.

“Well, if you're going to die nameless, you should at least know my name, I'm Mikhail.” The shinobi to his left, owner of the rapsy voice.

“Same here, call me Sion, sonny,” a husky voice for a man with a rather bulky frame.

“I'm Riburo, sorry about ealier. . .the vomit, I mean.”

“I'm not going to die and not without a name, either! But still, it's nice to meet you all – and hey, look! Listen, the geezers, they're finally quiet.”

“A fool's a fool.”

[susumu]

The desert winds buffeted the marching party as they treked, their spirits raised slowly with casual talks, small bonds of companionship woven into each of their hearts. Untouched by the calamities of war. . .soon to come, their numbers were little – littler than any of the war bands they would soon come in to contact with, but for now, they walked like giants and felt like heroes, this war was all for the taking.

The first sign of Dionysus were the outskirts, banners of proud villages swayed in the winds. All were there, Iwa, Kumo and Kono, and even a few banners from smaller nations, Kusa and Hoshi and other smaller hidden villages.

“. . .What, why are they here? Isn't it just going to be us-”

“No, keep it down. Don't act or say anything that will tarnish our village's name – we have to represent our village proudly, not like you'd understand.”

“I'm not a fool, ugh, I keep telling you. . .” Isaak pouted slightly as they marched on.

Marching past the tents and stationed shinobi until they passed the threshold and stood within its point. A single shinobi took a few steps forward then made an about-face, turning to the battalion.

“As in the briefing, we'll be splitting up into fours and merging with the four regiments already here. Good luck to you all, fight well and bring honor to your village; that is all.”

The number, four, struck odd to Isaak, but he understood as his eyes adjusted to the town before him, the scattering shinobi each taking to one of the four locations, though none appeared adequate enough to serve as a place of operations. To his right there was a two story building, a hotel or brothel, the commander went there; to his left, another two story building that seemed to be more a residence, another number of shinobi went inside. Directly in front of him was a bar, without a doubt it was a bar, a salon-esque bar, he noted Riburo, Sion and Mikhail heading there where another a group of shinobi was heading to its left towards a single storied building.

“Hey guys, wait, wait!” He called after them, jogging to reach them.

They stopped for a moment, Mikhail turning around and his face said it all, you're clueless. “Don't ask, we already know you don't know where to go. Lucky us,” his eyes rolled, “we're in the same squad, now come on, you're slowing us down.”

“Well, phew~” he exhaled, “thought I was going to be lost for a moment there. Haha, lost before the battle begin, that would be awkward, haha.”

[susumu]

The bar was grim, needless to say a somber atomsphere lurked over head(s). Was war really such a hopeless matter that sunk the hearts of many into darkness and spread nothing but choas and anarchy? There was justification for such a statement in this bar as the four entered, a set of weary eyes fell on them. Headbands gleamed from the outside light: Iwa, Kumo, Kono and Kusa shinobi were present from what Isaak could see, and only a few looked as though they were good for conversation.

“Did we miss the briefing?” Isaak questioned as he moved towards the bar, the other two Riburo and Sion took a circular table in the back where numerous shinobi squeezed together in similar tables.

“No,” said a disgrunted voice – the bar tender. His eyes were sharp and suspicious, no doubt paranoid about the foreign shinobi. In all his years of working, he could see a fight a mile away, and this set up was tense, the possiblity of a fight was high – but these were drunks, these were shinobi, trained elites. His expertise was on drunks and drunkard fights, but how would the shinobi react? . . .Would they be as hot-tempered as your oridnary drunk?

Placing his naginata to the left of his seat, Mikhail taking the seat left of his. “Thanks mister; a glass of red wine and any fruit if you got, please and thanks.”

“No,” replied the bar tender swiftly, “and we don't have any fruit, not here.”

“What, why can't I get any wine?”

“Shinobi aren't permitted to drink, that's what your boss says, for those who can't handle.”

“How will you know I can't handle if you don't see--”

“Let it go, Isaak, look, you're gaining attention. And, the briefing looks like it's going to happen soon – aren't any more shinobi coming in. Let's go join Sion and the others.”

“Others are drinking, you can smell them from all the way in the back, but fine, fine. You can join Riburo and Sion, I'll stay up here, there's more room.”

“More than us four are here, remember that, fool – but, alright, I'll stay here.”

“Be my mother all you like.”

[susumu]

Kumo, Iwa, Kono and Suna veterans from each of the villages entered the bar respectively. Their hardened faces, if not some what grim, brought about a silence to the bar as heads turned to greet them – the briefing was about to begin. Isaak remained reluctant to ease into the abrupt silence but a stern hand grasped his shoulder and a cold, warning, gaze from Mikhail kept his words to himself albeit with a pout.

“Attention,” came from the leading jōnin – a Kumo shinobi. “I will now be explaining the details of our assignment, I will like you all to bear through it as we are lacking adequate supplies at the moment.” There was a brief pause as tables turned, and the bar tender moved to handle other business despite a rather longing, thirtsy, gaze of Isaaks'.

“Our target is a base fortified by shinobi of amegakure within the borders of amegakure. We are tasked to be the decoys of a much larger army that outnumbers us ten to one. Because of the number difference the ambush will happen within two hundred to three hundred meters of the base. It is because of this number difference that our attempt may not be sucessful in luring the enemy, as well, it is this difference which means we must engage the enemy until the ambush is successful.”

There was a pause, and a low murmur among the shinobi that indicted there were many questions on their mind. However, not a single hand nor voice was raised – though the action to speak out and inquire had crossed Isaak's mind, but Mikhail(now on his feet and hovering over him) didn't – wouldn't, allow any questions. His grasping hand on Isaak's shoulder continued to tighten, retricting – discomforting him.

“Information on the enemy shows that the majority of their numbers are comprised of taijutsu users, practitioners of the Tenjoken – unique to the village, that is all we know. The rest are expert ninjutsu users with a few adpt a genjutsu. That is all, we will departure in five.”

The jōnin finished and without haste exited – there was no time for questions, and apparently no one had any qualms with this. Following suit shinobi lifted from their seats and filed out while finishing any drink they had.

[/blockquote]

[susumu]

The footfall of hurrying bodies soon faded into the silence surrounded Isaak and Mikhail joined with Sion and Riburo, the little gang was all accounted for. Finally! Mikhail's grasp loosened his hand returning to his side and a young Isaak stretched his shoulder enthusicatally, glad to have it back. Not including the bar tender and staff, they were all that occupied the bar and an unwanted silence gripped them, time was precious its seconds were being wasted.

“I'll ask if none of you will,” Isaak started and he could feel a cold gaze upon his person – Mikhail was annoyed, this was obvious, but why? “Do you have anything to say, Mother?”

“Yeah, I do, Isaak and it's telling you not to ask questions – we have our orders, what you want to know is nothing you need to know,” there was a coldness in his voice that Isaak hadn't thought of him.

“I'm not looking to disobey or discourage the mission, I know a lot of us will be killed, but, why are we attacking Rain? Isn't this a war against Kirigakure. . .or Kouketsu Uchiha?”

There was a pause, a silence that once again gripped them, and a subtle discomfort had risen from the mention of that name, the war bringers' name: Kouketsu Uchiha. The one to break the silence would be Sion, who although large in size had just enough of it in experience.

“Supplies. There's more to it, too, but the main focus is that there is a need of supplies. As you should know, war is costly, and at the moment there aren't enough supplies to supply the armies for all villages, especially villages like Konohagakure and ours. They say destruction was swift and absolute, some even whisper it was ignominious too, for Konohagakure.”

“Woah, you're really smart, huh? . . .but, why Rain? Wouldn't it be easier to just raid Kirigakure---”

“Let it go, we should get ready – get moving.”

“I guess we should. . .but, it seems like Rain won't be the only village attacked because of this war. . .hmm, I wonder what this Tenjoken style is like. . .”

Gripping his naginata their exit was swift and a few minutes later they joined the mass of shinobi that was, without a doubt, larger than what was present at the bar, their number had quadrupedal or more, at least. It was going to be one long trek to Amegakure, and from there how more difficult would the battle be? Just how many would perish nameless, and among those, whose last words would be heard?

Their first taste of the war bringers' war was coming soon. . .

---

[susumu]

It was saddening, demoralizing, to the young shinobi who had never ventured to the lands of Amegakure. The perpetual clouds raining down ceaselessly showered shinobi in a cold that Isaak had never known. Chills and shivers nestled their selves in the bodies and minds of shinobi, the trek was coming to an end – the target, the base, they were approaching fast, but. The pace slowed and it was apparent that the ambush teams had already been in place, for how long? A dark silhouette some hundred meters away marked the base – the objective, yet, it’s outline struck odd to the young Isaak and before he could voice any question a thick and husky voice rang through the ranks.

“A moment shinobi – catch your breaths, the assault will begin after!”

The commanding Jōnin advanced, along with sub-commanders, before the ranks. All around Isaak could hear the catching of breath, and a few pants, he was no different from those around him. Their trek to Dionysus was not something he could complain about, but barely with a moment’s rest another trek to Amegakure, he – they, the sunagakure shinobi, needed rest.

“The order should be coming soon,” he said in a whisper with his rhythm returned as silence was beginning to fill the ranks blanketed by the endless shower.

Swift and silent bar the sound of puddles meeting feet – the march continued. The leading Jōnin and sub-commanders lead the march, as the base, came into sight. Marked by the dark, odd, silhouette – tension hung in the damp air. Their march veiled by the rain was not invisible, and the shinobi on guard were alerted near instantly. As alarms from within the base sounded the march continued – war had been declared, and yet the order to attack had not been given, what would the signal be?

An explosion? A flare rising through the rain? An odd colored smoke? It was swift and prompt, and above all other things – silent, without a word the jōnin’s hand rose upwards.

. . .The battle had begun.

---

[susumu]

It was successful – the battle had been in their favor, is what the reports would say. Casualties had not been as heavy as expected, and in the face of things, it was an acceptable number. For the things to come, this battle had been overall successful, the base would soon be stormed and all other shinobi still within its fortifications would meet a swift, merciless end. But before that, how were the soldiers, the shinobi, doing as they walked through the dead, rearming themselves, and marked who they knew. . .

The rain softened throughout the battle and was reduced to a mere light shower or drizzle. Soaking wet hair clung to his black like a sleek white mane, Isaak’s emerald green eyes gleamed like wide orbs under the sun, wide and searching through the shower guided to him a face of which he was looking for but there was no sign of a smile upon his face as Mikhail approached with a waving hand.

“Ahh, you’re still alive, must be a fool’s luck – haha.”

The sound of his laughter was odd and grabbed Isaak’s attention, those wide orbs called his eyes narrowed into a relaxed albeit keen gaze – still searching. There was no one by his side, and a kunai gripped in his left hand trembled slightly, he was still on edge. It was only natural.

“Isaak?” Mikhail called, his voice shaking slightly, “Isaak, aye, Isaak!?” He snapped his hand as he stepped forward, Isaak’s attention still not gained, his free hand reached out to grip his shoulder but stopped half way as Isaak blinked.

“Right, right, I hear you! I hear you!” His body turned slightly to the right with his leg stepping into the turn. “You’re alone, I see, Riburo went and died on you?”

Dark brown eyes quivered and hung on the lingering silence between the two. “. . .Yeah, he died all right.”

“Ahh, well. I didn’t take him for much of a fighter, was sure he’d being in the back would be among the first to turn tail,” shrugging his body leaned more to the right. The dense forest on either side showed signs of intense battles, and the ground was tainted a shade of red. What was once green was now turning a dirty orange. “With the whole vomiting on the way to a rendezvous, I mean – haha, honestly.”

“Well yeah, I know what you mean! Should’ve seen him, puking when we got here. Good thing for the rain(“yeah, love that rain.”) He was a good guy, a cool guy too.”

“Yeah, he was a pretty cool guy, guess we should go find Sion now.”

The rain’s pitter-patter and numerous footfalls veiled the arrival of a certain shinobi who took to eavesdropping the latter of their conversation. “Who was a cool guy?” a passive voice marked the announcement of his presence, and to their pleasure it was none other then Riburo whose face seemed a bit long, longer than before, had he hung his head?

“We should go find Sion now.”

[susumu]

Unanimous agreement expressed through simple nods gave Isaak’s stomach an odd lurch. Somewhere, deep down, he didn’t want to find Sion or maybe, he just didn’t want to face the realism that he knew where Sion was. There was little recollection of what the next few moments were like, his mind having fallen into a reverie in the silence that gripped the three. It was Mikhail’s words and hand gripping his shoulder that brought him from his depths.

“Is it that body over there, Isaak?” He inquired; his eyes lingering on the large bulk of a man sprawled against a tree.

Blinking Isaak shifted his stance to face the tree, and the man, showing no indication of having heard Mikhail to which prompt Mikhail to ask again. “Let’s go find out,” he replied softly, Mikhail’s hand lifting from his shoulder, and they headed to the tree in a few simple strides. The man’s face was unrecognizable, cracked and crushed caused from nothing other then a foot, its print – the soles pattern, clear on the faces indentation. Clad in a heavy black armor to accustom the round body was marked with the same print – cracked and crushed. The tree in which the body found as its dying place was also cracked, slightly, from the trunk and slanted.

Though they were silent, swelling from within their depths was the realization – the truth. This was a friend, their comrade, and while their bond was small and short, it was indescribably strong. As their silence grew, Isaak cracked a smile all but unnoticed by Mikhail who although conflicted remained silent. The moments increased and his smile faded, and with it gone so was the silence.

“The mourning period is over, we’re still in a war, y’know!” His words were met with silence but not disagreement, Riburo shook his dark, wet, hair and Mikhail merely took a deep breath – something was on his mind. “It’s a shame, I really wanted Sion to answer some of my complaints, ahhh. Oh well.”

“What questions?”

“Not questions, complaints, y’know. Like, why’re we attacking this factory, and y’know. How come our intelligence was off? Ten to one, outnumbered? Ha, my ass---”

“You’re still worrying about things that don’t matter --- we’re attacking a base, not a factory, Isaak!”

“Disguising what it is doesn’t change it—but such things don’t matter for us genin, us tools, huh?”

“You want to make this a big deal, huh? I saw you smiling, that’s pretty a big deal. Was Sion not good enough for a few choice words?”

“Y’know, I think Sion was a Jōnin, a smart guy like him seems the type. Probably chose that armor since he had some inside info, haha. Well, hold it! Calm down, Mikhail, there’s still another attack – though, this time there will be no mercy, no survivors.”

[susumu]

Words were more piercing than any blade, and it is often a naivety or insensitivity that allows them to be so effectual. Emotions did not elude Isaak, but understanding the emotions of others was like reading hieroglyphs at times. And it appeared his words had pierced not just Mikhail but Riburo, and in their stunned silence he made his way to Sion’s corpse.

“Wh-where are you going?” Riburo spoke, daringly.

“Beside Sion, can’t you see?”

“Why?”

“To get some rest, I’m tired. I’ll sit out this next as—”

“That’s rebellion, treason! A traitorous act, Isaak,” Riburo’s words were braver and more daring than ever, perhaps the most daring in his whole life.

“. . .What?” He said with a pause, his mouth wide as he thought. “How do you figure?”

“You can’t sit out of a battle, not when everyone is to perform. You’re no general just a soldier. To do so, even once, is to abandon the siege—the war!”

“. . .uh,” another pause. “UGH! Oh, Riburo, you make things so serious. Just. . .(“what?”) wasn’t expecting this from you. . .”

“Well. . .it was just, y’know and that, and this, oh and that again. . .well. It’d be more expected—(“yeah, yeah, we know.”)

Retrieving a kunai from his pouch, with a swift movement he cut a lock of Sion’s hair. Returning the kunai to its pouch, the hair to his pocket he signaled for a Jōnin, and marked Sion as an affirmed casualty – this would be one shinobi who died with a name. Sion was not the only one who had received such a gruesome corpse, there were many others, worse off than his – but they were merely nameless fodder in another great war.

[susumu]

Bodies marked and piled together, the next assault was coming soon. Gathering together with the other ranks, the leading Jōnin gave a short and simple briefing.

“An elite team of Jōnin and Chūnin, as well as myself, negotiated the terms of surrender from the base. Only a handful need to remain, the rest of you are to return to the rendezvous point and from there head to respective village or station; that is all.”

Reaching the climax roars of applaud swelled within the ranks – the living would be able to return home. The commander was, once again, gone without haste. And with his leaving, the applause coming to an end, the three along with numerous shinobi trekked back to Dionysus, and from there departed into twos. One group staying behind and the other returning home, Isaak, Mikhail and Riburo were in the latter.

There was a lot that occupied their minds bar Isaak, who had made ita duty of his to weaken those around him with the talks of foods and fruits they would, most likely, never eat. Riburo held his head higher after this once little skirmish, and Mikhail took to more inquisitive, interrogative, field – there was one thing that wouldn’t change: war.

The rendezvous was over.

---