Redemption (Solo Training)

So that was it? He was just gonna sit there and let them get away with that? Days ago, Kazuo had watched Aika, the love of his life, hang for treason. Because she helped him escape the village, she had to die. That was…  unacceptable. They would pay, oh yes, they would pay. He was going to hunt down those responsible, and then… He slid his sword from the sheathe, staring at his reflection. He turned the blade, looking out at the village, his duster and messy white hair flowing in the wind.
“They’ll pay…” He muttered. “You’ll all pay for this!” He shouted in rage. Down below, his voice echoed, and the crowd looked around in confusion. Guards nervously watched Aika’s rotting corpse dangle from the noose. He didn’t know how, but he was going to kill all of them.
You’ll need help. Came a voice, as Kazuo was overtaken by a strange force.
 
It all went white for a while, and then dark. Slowly, Kazuo’s vision returned. He was sitting at a large, ornate table, with a white tablecloth covering it. On the other side of the table was a young girl, about his age, maybe a little younger. Her hair was blonde, her skin was fair, and she looked oddly perfect to be a normal person. Kazuo tried to look around, but the area around him was completely white, it was impossible to see anything. It was as if nothing but the table and the two chairs existed. He rubbed his head, looking to the girl.
“What the hell is going on?” He asked, looking over his shoulder quickly. Yup, still nothing. The girl looked up at him, her blue, innocent looking eyes widening in excitement.
“Oh, finally! It took you forever to get here!... oh wow, you’re cuter then I expected…” She said excitedly, frantically moving dishes, silverware, and cups aside so the space between them was clear.
“Where is here?” Asked Kazuo, still confused. The girl giggled.
“Inside your mind, silly!” Said the girl. Kazuo stared at her blankly. The girl shrugged. “I brought you here to help you. If you’re planning on systematically murdering your former leaders, you might need some help.” She said, folding her hands on the table. “That’s where I come in.”
“And you are?” Asked Kazuo, skeptical.
“To you? You can call me Yuumei. I’m here to offer you the gift of your mother’s dojutsu, a gift that lets you see the light in the dark, to find family no matter where you are, and to keep you from getting stabbed by an unexpected speed blitzer, the Meigan.” She explained, placing her hand on Kazuo’s head, above his eyes. He felt a tingly sensation, his eyes taking on a red tinge.
“Also, I’d like to lend you my chakra…. Yuumei is dark energy that your mother’s clan used for a variety of jutsu. I think you’ll find me very helpful.” Said Yuumei. “I’m eagerly awaiting spending all this time, just me and you, locked together in your mind alone.” Added Yuumei, winking quickly. Kazuo sighed.
“Look, I’m glad for the help, but I just watched my girlfriend hang from the gallows. You’ll forgive me if I don’t jump at your flirtation.” He said, leaning back in the chair. Yuumei’s face turned sympathetic. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I thought it had been longer- Look, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for- time flies when you’re immortal, and I-“ she said, stuttering.
“Just… Forget about it.” Said Kazuo, leaning onto the table, staring at the ground. “So how exactly do you think you can help me, Yuumei?” He asked, trying to change the subject.
“Well, there’s really nothing I can tell you. I don’t know anything more then you. But, I would recommend hiding your identity, for one, so your missing ninja rank doesn’t increase. Wouldn’t want your pretty face stuck on a pike for a bounty.” Said Yuumei, coming back to her flirty tone. She was one dense bitch. Alright, Kazuo could just ignore it.
“I don’t care about a bounty. Let them all come, I just want to fight, to vent.“ He muttered. Yuumei looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Shrugging, she continued.
“And I’d also recommend staying up here and training me and your meigan, personally, as you won’t be able to do this without me. No offence.” She said. Kazuo nodded.
“Whatever.” Kazuo said. Yuumei gave a halfhearted smile.
“I get it, you’re in a bad mood, but you need to get over this. Being angry won’t get you anything, you need a clear head and a focused mind to do this. And you need a mask, because I don’t want you to die as soon as we begin.” She said. Kazuo shrugged.
“Alright, fine. I’ll get a mask.” He said. “But I’m not staying up here long. If I wait, more of my friends will die.” Said Kazuo.
“Ooh, and anti-hero, a bad boy… I like that. It suits you.” Said Yuumei flirtatiously. Kazuo ignored her.
“So these eyes.” Said Kazuo, placing his hand on his face for a moment. “What do they do?” he asked. Yuumei giggled.
“Everything. It will gain more power as you use it, but do you mean right now?” She asked. Kazuo nodded. “Well, for starters, you can see in the dark perfectly, like a bat.” She began.
“-Bats are blind…” Interrupted Kazuo
“I knew that. Anyways, it’ll also improve your reflexes. Not a lot at first, but still noticeably. The more you use it, the more you’ll find your reaction time improving, which could likely save your life in a swordfight.” She said. Kazuo nodded. That would come in handy. “It also gives you the ability to see chakra, and tell Yuumei apart from normal chakra. Finally, it’ll make you more resistant to genjutsu, should you ever come into contact with them.” She finished. Kazuo clapped sarcastically.
“Alright, now what about you, Yuumei? What do you do?” He asked. She smiled.
“Well, that’s an interesting question. Your mother taught you how to use chakra? Did she ever do any crazy stuff that you couldn’t do?” She asked. Kazuo nodded. “That’s Yuumei. Shade release, if you’re feeling formal. I can give you that kind of power.” She told him. Now, that was interesting.
“Where do we begin?” He asked. Yuumei giggled. “Well, you’ll have to learn how to unlock it on your own. Good luck, cutie, I’ll be watching you.” She said, as the world flared white, then dark again.
 
Kazuo’s now reddened eyes opened, his face in the dirt. He stood up slowly, looking around. Night had fallen since he was taken into his mind by Yuumei.
“So, what now?” He asked. No answer. “Shit, can you hear me, Yuumei?” Ha asked again. No response. Was it all a strange dream? He blinked twice, his Meigan activating, as the dark night was suddenly illuminated. “Not a dream… Maybe she can only talk to me there.” He said to himself. He looked back out at the village. Aika was gone from the noose, and the town square had emptied out. He sat cross legged on a nearby stump, gazing out at the village. He knew he’d be disobeying Yuumei by doing this, but he wanted to make the kill right that second, screw whatever she said. He spotted the village leader’s house, that was where the man was. In the center of the village. It would be difficult slipping in without raising the alarm, but he was good at not sneaking and not getting caught. He had slipped out of the village, slipping in should be just as easy. He stood up, walking back into the shack to prepare. He opened the door, taking off his boots as he picked up a bolt of cloth, adorning a skull pattern across it, and cutting out holes for his eyes. He wrapped his face with the cloth, forming a mask, and pulled his hood up over it. That would conceal the vigilante’s identity. He picked up his sword from the table, fastening it across his back for easy access. He had obeyed Yuumei in at least one way, he wore her stupid mask, but he wasn’t going to sit around and wait for more friends to die because of him. He headed through the door again, locking it behind him, and climbing higher up the mountain. He couldn’t go back down the way he came up, the roads were being watched for him, and the forests were crawling with packs of hungry wolves. No, he’d have to climb down manually from the face. It was definitely the more difficult path, but he had little choice. He climbed to the peak of the mountain, taking in the view one last time. Normally, he’d be enthralled by the amazing view, but right now, he didn’t have time for it. He drew his sword dramatically, holding it high above his head.
“Aika…. I couldn’t save you…. This was my fault…” He began, bringing the sword down hard, clashing with the stone at his right and ringing loud, echoing down the mountain. “But for this… For what they did to you… I will repay them in blood…” He said, drawing a cut across his hand. “And above all… I will never forget... You will never be forgotten….” He swore, his swordsman’s oath sealed with several cuts across his hand. “If I have to stain my hands with more blood, if I have to give up my life to do what is right, so be it. I’ll endure the exile.”
 
Her initials, A.K., were cut across his hand, the deep gash bleeding quickly, the blood dripping down the rocks to the mountain stream below. “Aika Kemuri, I will avenge you!” He shouted, a few birds flying frantically out of the tree behind him, startled by the noise.
 
He normally was not this formal, nor had he ever been this angry in his life. But by god, he’d just watched Aika hang. He was out for blood now, and he would get it, one way or another, whether or not it cost him his life, he did not care. He began his trek down the mountain, sliding down the face on his back, gaining speed quickly. Just before the ground gave out from under him, he pushed off the rocks, propelling himself out into the woods, catching the limb of a large tree, swinging on it with his momentum gathered from the fall, and letting go as he reached the peak of his swing, flipping through the air, and landing on the limb of another tree, his feet holding him in place with chakra. Ah, there was the old Kazuo, showing off whenever possible, even when nobody was around. It was so like him, he almost forgot why he was angry in the first place. He ran across the tree limbs, jumping his way across the forest, until he reached the clearing, which separated him from the town. If he were spotted there, it was all over, but the grass was tall, and no one would expect him to approach from the mountain, or to approach at all, for that matter. No man in his right mind would come back so soon after escaping a death sentence, but Kazuo, in his rage induced state, was not in his right mind. He leaped from the tree, rolling as he impacted with the ground and coming back to his feet in a crouch. He would suppress his chakra, moving quietly across the field, staying under the cover of the grass. He was a ghost, undetectable, and completely lethal. As he waded through the tall grass, a hissing sound could be heard. He flinched as a sharp pain pierced his arm. A large snake now hung from his forearm, holding on tight. He swore silently, shaking the snake quickly, trying to get it off. It didn’t budge. A high, metallic sound could be heard as Kazuo drew his sword, slicing the snake in two. He sighed as he sheathed the sword, pulling the snake off of his arm. He hoped that wasn’t poisonous. Not because he was afraid of dying, but because it could interfere with his suicide mission for revenge.  
 
“What was that?” Came a voice. Shit. He’d been heard. Three men waded through the grass to get to him. Kazuo… He knew those men. He couldn’t kill them. Sheathing his sword, he crawled through the grass, keeping absolutely silent. One of the men walked close to him, and Kazuo grabbed the man’s ankle, pulling him to the ground, and striking the back of his head, knocking him out. He tossed a stone to his right, disappearing under the grass again, moving quickly through the grass to the next guy.
“The hell was that?” Said one of them, just as Kazuo emerged from the grass, smashing their heads together, and knocking them out. He disappeared in the grass once more, heading towards the village. He scaled the wall quickly, hiding in an alley as a patrol passed by. He slipped through the streets, avoiding the patrols, until he was at the window of his target’s house. He stepped silently into the room, moving towards the bed, where his target lay, sleeping. He drew his sword quietly, advancing slowly towards the bed.
“Stop!” Someone shouted. Kazuo turned. Three men stood in the doorway, swords drawn.
“Assassin!” One of them shouted. Kazuo backed towards his target. The men advanced in the room. He was hosed… shit. He put his sword to his target’s neck, threatening to kill him if they got close. They stopped, but this was a bad bluff. He was killing him anyway. He pulled the blade across his neck, ending his life, before charging the men down. The first rose his blade for a stab, which Kazuo deflected, pushing his own blade through his chest, and spinning around, throwing the body into another opponent, knocking him over. He clashed swords with the one remaining man, forcing his weight on the blade, before leaning back as far as he could, pulling his blade away, dropping his back to the floor, and kicking him in the chest. He jumped back up to his feet as the man crashed through the wall, unable to react in time to Kazuo, who leaped through a window, grabbing a record book off the desk as he went. Crashing through the glass, he made it to street level, rolling across the ground. He turned hard to the right, sprinting through the streets, taking random turns to confuse his adversaries. As he neared the gates, he felt an arrow pierce his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Slowly getting to his feet, he noticed he was beginning to be surrounded, and felt another arrow pierce his thigh, knocking him over again. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself to his feet, trying to make it through the gates. Another arrow hit him, but he kept running. Another arrow hit his back, this one with a rope attached, intended for pulling him. He grabbed the rope, yanking the archer off the roof. How annoying. He turned to face the army of swordsmen that had chased him down, drawing his blade quickly. From the mass of swordsmen, one man advanced ahead, as the others blocked his path.
 
“So, I take it Kazuo Kemuri sent you? He’s not all that subtle…” Came the voice of the leader. “Name’s Lynch. I’m here to end ya.”
And with that, the leader took off at him, charging at full speed towards the boy. Kazuo was taken aback by his raw speed, which was much more impressive then he had originally thought. He turned, attempting to sidestep Lynch, and narrowly missing the point of a sword, which cut the skin on his bare arm slightly. As he spun, he held out a leg, sending Lynch flying onto his face. Kazuo finished his spin, going a whole three hundred sixty degrees, before stepping forward and sending himself into the air, coming down and using his momentum to smash Lynch into the ground. At the last second, the man regained his orientation, rolling away from Kazuo’s sword strike
 
Kazuo dashed forward, pulling his sword from its sheathe, and slashing at Lynch’s stomach. The man deftly jumped forward, rolling through the air so as to avoid the slice. Kazuo turned to see Lynch bringing his sword down at his head. He lifted his own bone blade to catch the strike, only to see the katana cut clean through it. In the split second he had to react, he lurched forward, rolling across the ground, and narrowly avoiding the blade, coming up just behind Lynch. Kazuo brought his sword around, aiming a slice for Lynch’s neck. Just as the blade collided, a “Poof” sound echoing as a log took his place. Behind him, Lynch appeared. Kazuo spun to face him.
 
“Nice try, kid, but I’ve been at this longer then you.” Bragged Lynch.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” Said Kazuo, clenching his fist.
“Ooh, scary. Y’know what? I’ll let you make the first move. Try to make it entertaining.” Said the man, in cocky a manner as ever, which only served to further piss off Haru. He was sooo gonna get it… Lynch cocked his head, as a few swordsmen advanced from the crowd, dashing to attack him.
 
One of the swordsmen managed to get a strike in on Kazuo, opening a gash on his right arm, and sending him tumbling to the ground. The wound was deep, all the way into the bone. Kazuo felt as if the blade that had struck him had also absorbed some of his energy, as he felt extremely tired from the fight, and could barely remain conscious.
“Well, you fought well, kid, but you’re just a boy. You can’t do everything. I think this one will make another good hostage, but he’s strong… leave your blade in his stomach. That should keep him nice and docile…” Commanded Lynch. The one called Jin, who held the sapping blade, drew it from his sheath dramatically, inching closer and closer to Kazuo every second. He felt so helpless, he was in way over his head. He searched for a way out, someone, anybody, anything to help him, and then it hit him. Yuumei.
“Yuumei!” He shouted, and just as the blade was about to collide with him, a huge pulse of energy would go off. The blade would be launched from the man’s hand, Kazuo on his feet in a moment more. A slash of his blade, and the man went down, as Kazuo whirled to face another foe, another dark pulse coming from his hand as their blades collided, blasting his opponent back. He would sheathe his blade, readying himself for another attacker with a quickdraw.  He fights and fights, blast of Yuumei after blast going off, slash after slash, fighting his way out of the village, until an opening presents itself. Then, in an instant, the Shade Kazuo is gone, disappearing in the shadows. And yet, nobody knows his true identity, nor if Kazuo ACTUALLY sent him… though it seemed the answer to what they thought he was was still almost as bad as the reality.
 
 
From the mountain tops, Kazuo watches the village. They’re recovering rather quickly, and it seemed he had only killed a few samurai, and those were only the ones who fought relentlessly, like Lynch… Kazuo stared at his hand, resonating shade release chakra…
“Yuumei… Thanks.” He muttered, unsure if the girl could hear him. She said there was more to the Meigan then he had unlocked, and she also said she WAS the Yuumei, so maybe she could hear him. Maybe he’d get to talk to her again. In his hand was the paper he’d retrieved from the leader’s house… a list of names… targets… for Kazuo to hunt next. He was not avenged, not yet. The names of the men of this list were a blood pact to him, for they were the ones that signed away Aika to death…. And so he would be relentless… He would never stop until they were dead. Every. Last. One. Until they all dropped, their throats slit and their breathing ended, Kazuo would press on after them, stalking them in the shadows by day, and executing attacks by night. He would not remain in this area alone, that was a rather stupid idea. He’d get caught, eventually. So he’d run. Because he was used to it. Hit and run tactics, sneaking in, then fleeing at his top speed to safety. Simple enough in theory, but it would be more complicated then that…. He wondered if he could get a partner. A wingman. Someone to help him shoulder the burden… They’d have to be a more crime-hardened person, because people like Johan… He doubted Yuumei would let them live once they started questioning his methods.
 
 
Kazuo sat cross legged in the forest, meditating. He had fled his village’s land, and was currently waiting for the commotion to boil down again, before he went after another name on the list. In the meantime, he needed to sharpen his swordsmanship skills (Get it? Sharpen? Like… Like… Like, sharpening a sword? Fuck you, I thought it was funny!). Not that he was no good with a blade, but that fight with Lynch showed him he needed more practice. He held the sheathed blade in his lap. Before he was caught up in the whole affair with his master’s death, he had been working on a swordsmanship style more suited to his laid back attitude, and much more cool looking, called Sen no Ken. The basic idea behind the tech was the use of Iado quickdraws with multiple swords to keep up a constant offence, by drawing one as you sheathe the other. He had even theorized a way to make the sword sheathe itself using his own chakra while he drew another to attack. If he did this right, he could have a completely and totally constant offence.
 
He stood up, climbing back to the mountain to watch the village. So that was it. That life was over. His village was still in sight from this peak, the one he had watched over the village on first. From there, the black market was a short walk away, while the village was relatively far. Still, the view was good. As he watched the village, he thought about his life, reflecting on what he had lost.
 
He had been a bit of a problem child, his parents had a hard time dealing with his attention-seeking ways, actually wondering if he hd Mania, a mental disorder attributed to very hyper, attention seeking people. Luckily, his disorder was simply an addiction to attention. He thought about becoming a performer so that he could be paid to indulge in his habit, until a particular song changed his mind on the subject, which he had actually heard from a performer whom he had wanted to train him. The lyrics, he still remembered, were surprisingly touching, and still haunted him to this day. He had been sitting in an inn with his friends, talking about how he was going to ask the performer to take him on and teach him his ways, the man began to sing.
 
“Art is dead, Art is dead, Art is dead, Art is dead.”
Those lyrics caught his attention. “Art was dead?” Kazuo and his friends were listening intently now, their chatting finished.
“Entertainers like to seem complicated, But we're not complicated, I can explain it pretty easily, Have you ever been to a birthday, Party for children? And one of the children, Won't stop screaming 'Cause he's just a little Attention attractor”
The words fly from the man’s mouth as the other boys glance at Kazuo, who turns bright red. Who did this guy think he was, embarrassing him in front of his friends. He stood up, about to go yell at the singer. Then, the next few lines come.
“Of all of this money, you worked really hard for, I slept in late while you worked at the smith’s store, My drug's attention, I am an addict, But I get paid to indulge in my habit”
This stops Kazuo in his tracks. What? What was he on about, insulting himself now… What was he playing at?
“Cause I wanted my name in lights, When I could have feed a family of four, For forty fucking fortnights, Forty fucking fortnights”
Kazuo slowly started to sit down at this, enthralled by the words. This man was ranting about HIMSELF onstage… what could he do to embarrass him? What right did he have? He sat back down.
“A self-centered artist, Self-obsessed artist, I am an artist, I am an artist...”
With this, Kazuo swears never to go down that path… He didn’t want that kind of grief on himself… He had never thought about that career path that way… So that night, he told his dad he was giving in, that he would become a Samurai. Better to do something real with your life then be an attention whore for your entire life and not actually accomplish anything. He never realized the irony of the fact that an artist convinced him not to become an artist through his art.
 
When he became a Samurai, he was considered the “Off brand” kid, the one nobody wanted in their group, but loved watching, because as funny as he was, as good at entertaining people he was, he was not good at the whole “Teamwork” thing. He was deemed an ineffective warrior, and discharged from the training for not being able to work with others…. Pah. Luckily, Miyamoto saw something in the kid, and took him under his wing as his apprentice. Kazuo did not now what he did to attract the man’s attention, and Miyamoto would never tell him. Now he was gone, and he would never know. He’d sell his soul to know that simple answer, but now he’d never know. What quality did he have that stuck out to the wise old man? What was special about him?
 
Over time, Miyamoto worked miracles on Kazuo, turning him into a man in less then a year. The man was a genius, and for every exercise of the body, there were two of the mind. That kind of training tends to rub off on your personality, though the attention-hog in Kazuo still showed itself quite a lot. Not so much that he was irritating or unable to share the spotlight, but enough to make him still interesting. He had transformed as a person. Everyone was amazed by the transformation. A girl he met at one of Miyamoto’s formal parties, which he was required to attend, basically as his squire, to do menial tasks for him when requested. Aika had been there with her parents, standing in the corner of the room, mingling with people she was clearly uncomfortable with. She noticed him, from across the room that night, as he had evolved into a young man, compared to what he was in school. It was miraculous. It was impressive. She fought through the crowd, trying all night to talk to him. He, sadly, was forced to follow Miyamoto all night, as Miyamoto was a very social person, and everyone else thought Aika SHOULD be a social person, so took it upon themselves to keep her away from Kazuo by holding long, pointless conversations with her, with no hope of escape.
She was so impressed, in fact, that she found she was quickly falling in love with him. After catching on rather quickly (Being watched training by the same girl every day will do that to you.) Kazuo soon developed the same feelings, and after a few more months, and substantial pushing on the part of Miyamoto, who turned out to be quite the love doctor, working together with the girl’s friends to put them in situations where they’d be required to acknowledge each other’s feelings, the two finally confessed to each other and began dating…
 
He remembered all the awkward situations Miyamoto and Aika’s friends had put them into… Miyamoto was actually quite the gossip, despite the persona he wore of a hardened, wise swordsman. Forcing them to meet alone in every place you could imagine, from clearing out and locking a tavern after inviting them to lunch there, to leaving them stranded together in the middle of the woods with nothing but a tent and some food. They were really creative…. It seemed a shame that such creativity was gone from this world now. Wait… was he any better? He slaughtered Samurai to kill the leader of the village just for revenge… No, that was different. That was for what is right. He was an anti-hero now, as Yuumei would put it.
 
Kazuo sighed… He had lost so much. He noticed he had reached the forests outside the black market, his new home, it seemed, as that was where people of his… lifestyle… tended to hand around that place. He couldn’t take it. He needed a vent. So suddenly, he drew his blade, slicing at the tree nearest to him without mercy, slicing through the tree, making cut after cut after cut after cut, screaming into the mountain air as he let all of his anger about the loss of his best friend, his master, and the love of his life, his everything, in less then a few days. Subsequently, he lost EVERYTHING. His honor, his rank, his life, his friends… Now he had to live like a criminal. How fitting. Good things happened to bad people, after all. He finally finished his venting, sheathing his sword, as he turned and walked back towards the Black Market. Behind him, the tree had an almost flawless picture of Aika carved into it, by Kazuo’s own blade. He really should have been an artist. 


(WC: 5015)

+Meigan Stage 1 unlocked (1500 words, no stats)
+Yuumei Unlocked (2000 words)
+Weaponry spec unlocked and switched with nin as main spec (1500 because of 500 word discount.)

+17 stats,
+35 JP

Good job, approved o-o