through eyes most divine [closed]

[EITO]

The atmosphere of the village was tense to say the least, the threat of war choking what little life the village had out of it. While the usual hustle and bustle continued to some degree, the looks on the faces of the public had changed. What were once laid back, happy eyes were now squinted, careful, scared. The Mist was no longer equal parts blood and water, but instead a haze spread over the eyes of those who saw only short term peace.

".. These eyes see everything."

A thought sprouted, belonging to the white coated genin who stood defiantly in the center of the markets, arms crossed beneath his billowing white jacket. Eito saw through the folly of religion, promises of peace under the guise of a pseudo intellectual religious structure. "The world is a mist" they'd claim, however what did they know of the world? Trapped in their own village, they were only half right. Their world was a Mist, but those who could see through it, see beyond the superficial, they would be the ones to lead Kirigakure into a new era of power. Travelling through the collection of stalls, the young man shot looks of disgust at the few men still preaching of peace and prophecy. One rose to his feet, roaring to the crowds about making peace with themselves, though many simply walked away from him. As a people, the Mist was divided, many enjoyed the new peaceful regime however some yearned for the time when Kirigakure was feared, respected and known for being more than just a church for imbeciles. Sharp tones whipped from the boy's mouth, aimed at the preaching lunatic he slowed to interact with.

"Feel the air, the tension. Your false idols hold no power here, no pull beyond the threats of war we are now faced with."

The preacher was stunned only momentarily, before returning to his typical babble. Shaking his head, Eito simply continued through the stalls, the sounds of hurried purchases and attempted sales filling the air. The Hyuuga cared little for these interactions, but it was better than sitting in the compound, clutched beneath a blanket and comforting the younger clansmen. Making his way to a bench, the young man made a conscious decision to tuck his cloak beneath his bottom, keeping it separated from the damp bench. He would rest, ponder on the situation his village found itself in, but a thought of no longer existing never crossed his mind. Only through eyes most divine would the future of Kirigakure be seen.

[Nujabes]

Even in the midst of war, some things never change...

There was a loud commotion up ahead, further in the market. Shop owners and market dwellers yelped, some in surprise and other in fear, as they were roughly shoved to the side. Stands were toppled and canopies torn down in an effort to impede someone, or something's, progress. With a but a cursory glance, Eito would be able to scarcely make out the details of a rushing figure; bulldozing, clawing, and sprinting its way through the center of the market. The crowd continued to thin as as the figure made its way closer to Eito, revealing a young man with a parcel clutched close to his chest.

They locked eyes, only briefly, before--

TSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!!

Quick as lightning, a flash of silver cut out across the opening and struck the boy's left leg. Blood and gore exploded from the deep wound as the boy -- clearly in his teens -- toppled over. He groaned in agony, dropping the parcel to clutch at his maimed leg. The lengthy blade of a nodachi hovered above him, drenched in his blood. Its owner, a small, white-haired girl, stood at its end, an impassive gaze weighing down on the thief. She too met Eito's gaze before returning her attention to her prey, now on his back, looking to her for mercy.

"P-please," he groaned. "Please, spare me."

A large portion of the crowd now circled around them; watching, waiting.

"You know the law."

"B-b-but, the M-mizukage--,"

"Is dead," she finished, abruptly. "The laws of her cult no longer apply here. You know how we handled thieves before she rose to power, don't you?"

"I didn't know," he cried. "I didn't know it was the Kushinada Compound."

"Your ignorance is no excuse."

The young girl twirled the massive sword in her hand, holding it now in a reverse-grip. Careful steps brought her over the wounded boy's chest as she took the pommel in both hands. He went to scream, but the worlds caught in his throat as the nodachi slid through the nape of his neck. The boy's eyes went wide as tears gathered at the brim before spilling over; blood erupted from his mouth as he coughed, splattering the young girl across the face; his body convulsed violently, bucking against the ground, as the life slowly bled out of him. With a flick of her wrists, the blade turned, severing his spinal cord completely with a wet crunch.

Hana wrenched to sword from its meaty sheath, cleaning it of blood with a single flick toward the ground. The crowd lingered, but only for a moment, before they continued on with their business.

"Eito-san," she said in recognition of the Hyuuga heir. "I hope this little incident hasn't ruined your trip to the market."

[EITO]

Eyes narrowed on a figure that burst from the crowd, a commotion that brought Eito to his feet. Watching intently, he needn't even activate his Byakugan to see the perpetrator, a young man carrying what seemed like a package. What followed was a merciless strike, blood and transgression between a thief and what seemed like.. a noble?

"I didn't know it was the Kushinada compound."

A small smile formed on Eito's lips, the name all too familiar to him as they, much like the Hyuuga, were Kirigakure nobility. Watching with interest as she meted out justice, the older genin slowly approached the familiar face, his gloved hand straightening out his cloak. "You needn't apologize, Hana of the Kushinada." He addressed the girl respectfully, stepping around the puddle of blood and death that laid at his feet. Bowing respectfully, he moved his hand to the pocket of his white pants, eyes looking around at the crowd that had dispersed. Many of them were wide eyed, frightened and visibly shaken by what had just gone down; products of the de-fanging of the Mist.

"Products of the current regime oft forget the nobility of the mist, it's one of many reasons we're stuck in this predicament."

His body language and speech were surprisingly relaxed, despite the threat of war that approached the Mist all too rapidly. This girl, to Eito, seemed unphased as well, even despite her young age. "Even the Hyuuga seemed to forget their place in the Mist. As keen as our eyes may be, some of the elders are painfully short sighted."  Breathing a heavy sigh, Eito's eyes locked with the comparably small girl. Even Eito had heard of her ability to fight, a proficient Taijutsu specialist even at her age. She was a relic of the old Mist; the better Mist. ".. For somebody to steal from the Kushinada further illustrates our predicament. How fares your family, Hana-chan? It has been too long since our families convened."

[Nujabes]

“Mm.”

Indeed, it had been quite some time since formality had drawn their houses together. Where the Kushinada and Hyuuga once met for glorious combative festivals, with bloody, gore-filled matches between shinobi, they now parlayed with words and tea and dance. Shinobi—especially those of the Hidden Mist—were weapons; what good was a tool of war in a time of peace? Many of the village’s people had become complacent under its latest regime and the blanket of peace and prosperity that wrapped itself around the entire world.

But the Kushinada? The Kirigakure Hyuuga? They had simply rusted. It was refreshing to see a fellow heir that had lost neither his vision (for the future) nor his edge.

“Father is reasonably irate,” she replied. “Mother is trying to be understanding.”

Facing the corpse, the blade in her hand vanished in a puff of smoke. She knelt down, drawing an elongated bone from her forearm. Taking a handful of the deceased’s dark hair, she began hacking and sawing at his throat with the bone-forged weapon. “Some of our scouts say the war is already over,” she continued with a casual, nonchalant disposition. “That both the Mizukage and her sister fell in battle just moments after engaging the Konohagakure forces. Even while though they won’t be missed, I can’t help but wonder how that bodes for the future of the village. Two of our ‘strongest’ shinobi bested in mere seconds?”

Hack, squelsh, hack, squelsh, hack, hack.

Blood continued to splatter across the young girl’s features—her arms, thighs, neck and face—as she loosened the flesh connected to what remained of the boy’s throat. “Regardless of whether of not the Leaf rapes our village like some defenseless whore, it’s going to take a lot of rebuilding to become who we once were. Our reputation has been ruined, first by the Mizukage and her cult, and now by these bloodthirsty forest dwellers.” With a final drive of the bone’s blade, the head separated with a sickeningly wet rip of flesh.

Hana sighed, rubbing her nose with the back of her blade-bearing hand. Blood on her forearm smeared across her cheek in a great stain, but she hardly seemed bothered by it. “Some of the other genin and I are thinking of looking for the swords in the upcoming months, once we’re strong enough. Kirigakure needs its Seven Swordsmen of the Mist.” Standing tall once more, severed head in hand, she regarded the Hyuuga with an inquisitive glance. “We could use another body, especially someone with such fancy eyes.”

[EITO]

".. Two of our "strongest" shinobi bested in seconds?"

"You and I both know that titles have nothing to do with power, Hana-chan. Like any tool, it's the hand that wields them."

Eito responded, his body settling into a loose squat as he watched the girl claim her trophy, carving the head of the thief off. For a second, Eito relished the noise, the cutting of flesh, carving of bone, these were noises that were not often heard by him due to his dislike for weapons. Splatters of blood shot from the boy's throat, shooting thin arcs of gore into the air, one of which landed on Eito's pale cheek.

"..."

Remaining quiet as the boy's head was torn from his body, the Hyuuga heir breathed a quiet sigh, removing his pearly white gloves before sliding them into his pant pocket. As the girl discussed the future of the village, Eito yanked the decapitated corpse closer to himself, his strong arms hefting its weight up at first onto his knee, before finally slinging him over his shoulder. ".. customs are important, you know this more than anybody." Mused the boy, arm securing the corpse to his shoulder. "Too many people lose sight of what's important, status, money, none of that matters in the end. Just look at our houses." Shooting a blank look down at the girl, Eito motioned for them to move. "Titles are useful tools but ultimately it's power that we need. These invaders aren't going to hit and run, they're going to establish power, sow the very same seeds that the late Mizukage did. What we need is to salt the earth, let only the strongest plants grow tall enough to be seen." Staring straight ahead, Eito's eyes sprung to life, his heavenly gaze staring at something in the distance.

"The Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, this title is as useful a tool as any. If this is what you seek, I will join you. Consider me your newest ally, Kushinada."

[Nujabes]

“You and I both know that titles have nothing to do with power, Hana-chan. Like any tool, it’s the hand that wields them.”

“Yes, but we are only two shinobi in a village of thousands,” she replied. “I’ve heard them talking, you know. Even some of the older Jounin are shaken up by all this. It’s going to take a lot more than a handful of genin to make things right. But, it’s good to know that you’re for the cause.”

Hana slid the bone sword into her sash, fastening against her left hip, as Eito busied himself with tugging up the corpse. The girl had planned to leave it in the market, a grisly warning to the sissified Kirigakure natives that things were changing; however, it was probably better to follow tradition. A small section of the Kushinada compound, known as the Fleshing Pit, was dedicated to this type of thing. Severed heads on stakes; men and women skewered on pikes; dismembered corpses scattered about sodden earth.

It was a warning, to any and all, of the Kaguya’s brutality and might.

Carrying the much lighter package, Hana’s pace was brisk. “I forgot to ask, but how is your family doing?”

[EITO]

"I forgot to ask, but how is your family doing?"

A stiff breath escaped Eito's lips, cutting short his initial, thoughtless response. Despite his troubles with his family, Eito was still to become a patriarch, a leading force in the Hyuuga. "Father is well enough, still tries to tell me about his legacy." The Hyuuga smiled, bouncing the corpse on his shoulder up once to rebalance it. ".. Still mentions Akira-shi from time to time, one of the few men he couldn't beat." Throwing a knowing look at the girl beside him, Eito continued through the streets of Kirigakure, pace oddly steady for somebody lugging a headless body around. ".. Mother is, well, worried. As much as she detested the Mizukage.."

".. she has grown fond of Mist's predicament. She fears for the safety of our clan, village but most of all me. I'm still a child in her eyes."

Staring straight, oblivious to how absurd a statement like that was to a twelve year old, Eito grew quiet, his eyes flitting to life. They had made their way to one of many alleyways that branched off of the marketplace, but what was curious to the Hyuuga were the vagrants that gathered around them. Watching from behind garbage cans, boxes and corners were at least a dozen poorer citizens, watching the two genin heft the victim of Hana. "Did you notice?" Eito asked, motioning with his head to the closest man, who sat atop the roof of the building they just passed. "They won't even talk; they're scared, cowering like children. If the Hokage were to hold a dagger to their heart, they'd stab themselves to avoid repercussions." As if to illustrate this point, the Hyuuga focused his gaze on one of the men near the exit of the alleyway. Stiffening up, the man pressed his back against the stone wall when he realized what their cargo was.

"How do we stop this wheel of repetition? Once Konoha sacks our village, what are the other villages going to think?"

[Nujabes]

"Us," she replied nonchalantly. "The mistakes of our forefathers will not linger forever, Eito-san. Eventually, we, the children of the Mist, will rise up and reclaim the honor that was taken from us. It make take months or even years, but it will happen. We need only continue on the path we've set for ourselves."

What that path was, however, remained somewhat unclear.

The remainder of their journey back to the Kushinada was one of relative silence. The kunoichi, lost in her thoughts, made a sound here and there -- a low scoff at some ridiculous idea, or a hum of approval at something more logical. It wasn't until she rounded the corner of a high bamboo fence that, with a nod, she said: "Over here." They weren't entering through the main doors. Instead, the young girl guided her companion through a towering pair of side doors which led to a grisly courtyard.

Pikes erected form the earth, corpses and severed heads deposited on their ends. The earth below was almost entirely red, with only several splotches of non-soaked earth and grass. An elder Kaguya sat in a chair across the yard, tilting his head back in recognition of the heir.

"Lady Hana," he crooned. "You caught him?"

She raised her hand, displaying the severed head. "He didn't get far."

"Looks like you made it painful."

"I didn't, actually. There was a crowd."

The man nodded. "I understand. Do you need a stake?"

"No," she replied, tossing the head into a pile of others. "He can rot with these down here."

Facing Eito, he nodded to her right. "Throw the body over the."

[EITO]

Truly, Eito was consumed in his own thoughts. The walk was largely silent, the larger figure offering critiques on those he passed but ultimately they had no interaction of any substance. When they arrived at the Kushinada compound, however, Eito tuned out completely. Pikes, heads and blood; familiar with all of these, he had to look down at his own hands to make sure he hadn't gone back in time. Memories of visiting the compound with his father Kaito, the now nostalgic youth remembered his father's steely expression, even during live executions. Comparably soft in expression, Eito looked around, eager to see what had changed since his last visit.

"Elder."

The Hyuuga bowed deeply, showing his respect for the elder.



"Throw the body over there."

Nodding to confirm the statement, the lanky Hyuuga hefted the corpse over to the pile, dumping it with the other mutilated mounds of flesh. Reeling from the smell, the lingering stench of degradation and iron in blood filled Eito's nose, causing him to momentarily grimace before finally settling back into a flat facial expression. Walking back to Hana, the Hyuuga immediately opened another conversation, his hollow eyes taking another look at their surroundings. "A relic of the Bloody Mist, one that should be cherished." He directed a compliment at both the elder and the heir, those his eyes soon settled on the young woman. "It's been years since I've been here, it's almost like stepping into another time, a better time." Slipping his fingers into his pockets, the Hyuuga moved his back to the nearest sturdy structure and leaned against it, his typically impersonal voice showing a hint of joy, or perhaps hope.

"Perhaps an arrangement can be made, an exchange of favors between houses, an alliance to rid the Mist of the cancer it has been plagued with..

.. perhaps even genetics, a combination of the strongest Kaguya and Hyuuga genes."