child of the wind

The inability to have complete control over one’s own mind is terrifying alone in concept, but so much more so when it is a reality for yourself. Your body moves of its own accord, you find yourself leaving a place that you had wanted to stay, and your mouth moves against your very will. Yet, if it were a child that were to suffer this horror from the very moment they were born, the situation would become much more tragic, for children are always the innocence of the world, and when they are disturbed and distraught, it touches the world all the more.
 
Yet, the world of the Shinobi is stranger still, and while this may very well be a mental disability, such was not the case for the young Dachi Yamato, for had it been a simple malfunctioning of the brain, his illness could very well be easily healed. Instead, however, it was no neuron misfire that caused the boy to walk into the desert without his knowing, but the presence of another. Perhaps it was only fate, or perhaps it was the will of a greater being, but Dachi’s emergence into the world coincided with the leaving of another soul, bonding them together for eternity. Yet, this was not enough for the world, and the child was born with a hereditary disease that the exiting spirit had been searching for and longing for all of his life, and it made him hold on all the more.
 
Thus it was so that the mad spirit of fire which the world had once known grabbed onto the infant as it passed into the afterlife, leaving only a fraction of the souls and mind behind, though with a ninja, a fraction was all that mattered.
 
Kasai, as he was known to many, had once been a great ninja of the village hidden in the leaves, and for a short time in its history, it had seemed as if he was the strongest. Yet, as time passed, the soul became enveloped in strange visions of the creation of a utopia, and even stranger thoughts on how one must become a shinobi; ultimately, he led himself into his own death, still trying to impose his teachings to the end.
 
He had been strong willed, and powerful, yet there had been no abnormalities about him. Instead, it was by his own choice that the man only ever used fire jutsu, and it was because of this that when he found Dachi, the man of fire forced himself into the child, only to ever appear in dreams as a flame, or his infamous mask, and the strange voice that swirled around the child’s mind and plagued him so. Yet, again, as a spirit, only a fraction of the man remained, and they were only the ghost of Kasai.
 
“I don’t get it,” Dachi spoke out loud, though no one was present. “Why are we out here again?”
 
The day was relatively normal. The sun beat down from above, threatening any whom might be unprepared for the heat, though it was accompanied by the kind and cool breeze that flowed across the dull sand. There was no particular reason that today had to be any different from the other days, but to Dachi it was.
 
It was rare for Fire Man to direct the child anywhere, and when he did, Dachi always listened, for up to that point, the voice inside his head had always chosen a good path for the child, and he was expecting that it would again that day.  Yet, there was nothing in sight, and unlike the previous time, Dachi knew that there was no large wolf sneaking up on him. It was seemingly pointless to the child.
 
“Follow the sun,” the voice inside the child’s head dictated.
 
Dachi glanced up, and squinted in confusion as he saw that the sun was setting, and that to follow it was to walk away from the city which he had come to know well over the past few weeks. He hoped that Fire Man didn’t want him to leave so soon, as he hadn’t told Salzem that he was leaving, and he would very much like to say goodbye at the least, and perhaps even ask him to accompany him, where ever it was that Fire Man was taking him.
 
“Why?” Dachi asked, though he listened, and planted his feet one after another into the setting sun.
 
“Because you must do better than I did,” the voice replied.
 
“What do you mean by that?” Dachi asked, but there was no reply.
 
Instead, the child walked on in silence. It did not bother him that there was no response; he was used to it. Through some means, Dachi had deduced, and rightly so, that Fire Man was a spirit, and not just a voice inside his head, though many others have a difficult time to believe him, and as a spirit, Dachi assumed that Fire Man must always have very pressing duties. It simply pleased him that a spirit was willing to speak with him in the first place. Yet, he was completely unaware of what Fire Man had in mind, and if he had truly known, then perhaps he would not have felt the same way.
 
As his light cloak fluttered gently in the soft breeze, Dachi could feel his feet sinking ever so lightly into the sand with each step, and smiled slightly to himself. Ever since he had discovered his element, Dachi had noticed it everywhere that the air was present, and it pleased him. He had thought that he was going to be doomed to taijustsu and tai alone. Though he knew that such a fate would not have been life threatening, it had certainly caused a dent in his pride, and it had been a matter which he disliked talking about very much.
 
Yet, ever since the lesson with his teacher, Dachi had been more than happy to share his new found powers with the world, and had become enthralled by the idea of learning more.
 
“Are we almost there?” The child asked the man inside his head, but instead was only answered by a scream.
 
Jumping, Dachi froze. He knew the sound had come from just beyond the hill which lay in front of him, but he unsure of what to do. He knew almost instantly that he had indeed arrived at the location which Fire Man had wanted him to go to, but he did not want to go over the hill. He recognized the sounds which rang out over the sandy slope, as he had heard them before, but he had never wished, and never imagined that he would be so close.
 
Someone was being killed. Dachi, though a child as he was, had his share of exposure to the ninja world, and the sounds of someone’s last breath were not any that one was likely to forget. He knew what Fire Man was trying to do as well, but he desperately wanted to do anything but that.
 
“You need to be faster,” the voice in his head dictated, breaking through the screams.
 
It was then that Dachi felt his heart stop, as he watched his own feet begin to move his body up the sandy slope. He wanted to scream himself, or pull himself down, away from what he knew would be over the hill of sand. However, as he tried to fall to his knees, tear off his legs, turn around, anything at all, he found that he was no longer in control of his body, and even his own mouth would not move to release the cry that was trapped inside. The body belonged to Fire Man then, and Dachi could do nothing to stop that.
 
As he ascended the slope, Dachi did not even have the power to cover or close his own eyes to the sight which he knew would be waiting to greet him.
 
“You need to be stronger.” Fire Man spoke once again.
 
It looked as if only a simple merchant had been attempting to reach the city, though was stopped short. He had been a middle aged man, no doubt with two decades left in his life. Perhaps he had a family waiting for him at one end of the road, certain that he would return, just as he had every time before that, or perhaps the man lived alone, with only his friends or pet to mourn him when he was gone. Regardless, he had once had a life, and for a few seconds more, he still did. The horse as well, though it had passed minutes ago.
 
Then, there was the third figure, which Dachi believed to be his reason for being present. The figure with his back turned, and the bloodied katana, hooded and cloaked in all black, to fade into the shadows which drew longer with every second. He too had a life, though his was not in danger, and the manner in which he chose to live that life could be questioned, as he would become a murderer in a matter of seconds, if he was not already, as the silent killer raised the blade for one last blow.
 
Dachi was certain that it was a man, perhaps even a boy, from the time that Fire Man forced him to gaze upon the scene, before speaking again.
 
“You could save him,” the voice said, and Dachi knew that it was true. “But you will not.”
 
Nor did he.
 
The sword rose to its full height, and within a second, fell and silenced the cries which came from the soul, and Dachi felt himself go limp, though Fire Man forced him onto his feet. He could have saved the man, and Dachi knew this. Fire Man had allowed certain movements to pass through the mental barrier, but Dachi chose none of them. He could have, and if he was truly the shinobi he wanted to be, should have substituted, and deflected the blade, or ran for he was close enough, or even roared out to make the killer pause, but the child chose to do none of these. Instead, he had watched one man end the life of another, paralyzed in fear.
 
“Now,” Fire Man said, and forced the husk to advance. “It is your turn.”
 
With a speed that the child did not know he was capable of, the boy descended upon the killer, and launched himself into the air, readying an attack.
 
As two arrows appeared in Dachi’s hand, it became very clear then, just what the difference between a shinobi and a normal man were, and the boy instantly knew where he stood on the spectrum, as well as the expertise that Kasai had.
 
The killer had seen Dachi fall, but even he was significantly slower than the child, and Kasai knew all too well how to manipulate even the weakest of bodies to be powerful and deadly. The katana had been raised to meet him, but Dachi folded backwards in midair, and used the arrows to slide down the sword with ease, leaving both of the long shafts embedded in the villain’s hand, though they dissipated the second that the child’s hands left them.
 
This time, another scream sounded, though it was the masked man, and not Dachi’s which carried itself through the desert. Yet, as the blow landed, there was no smirk from the child, no victory cry, no satisfaction. It was clear that Fire Man had fought for his life before, and his ability to carry his body around the circle of death was proof enough that he had won many times before finally losing. Dachi, on the other hand, trembled and collapsed within his body, as his souls watched his own physical self extract pain which he could have never imposed on a being in his life before.
 
More arrows appeared, and again, they found their targets, and hit home throughout the criminal’s body with ease, causing more cries of pain as they went. It caused the child nearly as much pain as it caused the man, to have himself forced into destroying another being. Yet, within a matter of seconds, the deed was an arrow away from being done, and the man knelt on the ground, next to his own victim, raising a hand, pleading to be spared; the same prayers which the other had been denied only seconds before.
 
His own hand raised, arrow poised to do what Dachi had never wished for, and the voice rang out, though this time through his own mouth.
 
“What is your verdict?” Fire Man spoke, out loud, through the body of the boy.
 
It was a disturbing thing, to hear a voice that is not yours, or one that you are even trying to make, come from your own mouth, once against your own will, but Dachi knew that he must answer.
 
“No!” The child cried, the voice also coming from the same lips, causing the man on the ground to glance up in confusion, as he too, though close to death, was disturbed that a child had spoken with the voice of a demon, and replied with that of a boy.
 
“Yet, by the standards of any other shinobi, he deserves to die, here and now,” Fire Man replied, and Dachi knew him to be correct. “If you belonged to a village, it would be your duty to kill him now.”
 
The child remained silent, and Fire Man raised the arrow further into the air.
 
“But I don’t!” Cried Dachi in response.
 
“You must one day,” Fire Man spoke, and once again, Dachi knew him to be right. Fire Man was always right, and never would he lie to the child. “You cannot remain weak and soft. Such is the way of the ninja.”
 
The man on the ground watched in horror, certain that he was hallucinating, as the child, not even a teen, argued with himself, switching between the voice of a terrifying man, and that of the child he resembled physically. He had encountered a demon, and the man knew it. No other human would do such a thing, simply to torture their prey before finishing them off.
 
“But there must be another way!” Dachi cried out once more, trying with all his might to stop the spirit of fire from bringing down the arrow.
 
“Then tell me what the way is.” Fire Man replied, his voice void of any emotion. “You are to surpass me, but until then, you will follow me. I may have died, but I was once strong. I would have brought the blade, and so will you, unless you can find another way.”
 
Dachi gazed in horror as the spirit waited for the inevitable. He knew, deep down, that the spirit was correct. He wanted the boy to become stronger, and Dachi wanted that as well, but with death being so common in the ninja world, it was a barrier that he must surpass.
 
Then, however, a third force entered the child’s body, or so he thought, as in reality, it was only Kasai still, revealing the side of his force which had carried the Will of Fire for a time in his life.
 
“Then I will be the other way,” Fire Man spoke, his voice mixed with Dachi’s, lowering the arrow, and allowing the wind which formed it to dissipate.
 
“Good,” the single voice of Kasai replied, smiling.
 
“He will pay for what he has done, yes, but to end his life ends his punishment,” the entwined voices once again chorused. “To truly be punished, this soul must live on.”
 
Dachi was partially horrified with what he was saying, and this time by his own will as well. Being a child, he was unaware what exactly his own words meant, but he knew it was something to be concerned about.
 
“But this world has enough evil,” Dachi said, this time without the voice of Kasai.
 
“Just as it has enough people who think they are good. Life is perspective,” the man replied, but he continued. “But you can do better. I was once good; my intentions were at the least. You were born to do better than me.”
 
Dachi knew how the conversation would have gone, had either continued, but neither did. Instead, the arrow being dissipated, the spirit of fire left the child’s body, receding into his mind where he dwelt, and the boy turned from the injured man. Yet, that was not good enough.
 
Turning back, Dachi felt a strange feeling which he had never experienced before. The task only took a few seconds, but during those seconds, Dachi found himself wrapping the man’s injuries, and helping him back onto his feet, small as he was.
 

The world was twisted, dark, and cruel. If there was ever a chance for that to change, and true light to shine forth, whatever good that remained needed someone to carry its banner.

(Exit. 2,841 words. claiming 14 stats, and finishing spirit of fire skill.)

Approved