Digging up Trauma [P]

Mon Dec 05, 2016 7:44 pm

In time, Shiro experiences temporary relief from the consuming inner fire that is his enmity towards what he sees as a symbol of the world’s unfit condition. Before having seen Tengakure and witnessed its sad state, Shiro had yet to experience a fury such as the fury he feels now. A new feeling, as it would for any adolescent facing the challenges of emerging into the real world, momentarily disorients Shiro. Without the ability to cope, he unconsciously thrashes about until finally having an explanation for his uncomfortable state. The name “Takeo Tadashi” has become a series of sounds that reminds Shiro of a new and unpleasant fervor along with the images of Tengakure’s ruins, and of exploded craters, and of scattered black ash, and of leveled buildings, and of lost lives that have been paid no respects, and of thin and low clouds of dust, and of crushed prosperity. When these thoughts emerge, Shiro shakes them out of his mind and forgets the name that triggered the memories. Often times, he regrets ever having learned the name of the man whose hand decimated Tengakure. But, without doing such research, Shiro would not have been promoted to the rank of chunin. He has these occurrences, the very thoughts that eat away at him, to thank for his growth.

The shifting and unpredictable nature in which Shiro finds himself seeing the world after having departed from his home village for little less than a week is intriguing, pushing him to map out his emotions ever faster and with more urgency. As if he were in the dark, Shiro has groped for some form of light that might allow him to navigate his consciousness. Now, after pinpointing the source of his newly started flares of anger, he has gained visibility. There is a sort of nigh enlightenment, the understanding born out of having a source for him to point to, a source of his hatred. Though an outlet through which to vent his frustrations continues to elude him.

Shiro opens his eyes, awakening from a low state of consciousness through which he has been going over his recent griefs and striving to better embrace them but to no avail. The stop is sudden, having only recently sensed an approaching presence that he knows to be familiar to him. Rather than feel jarred from his comfortable mental state, the disturbance is more pleasant than irritating or unwanted. It can be likened, at this moment, to lying in an uncomfortably cold room and being given warm extra layers of clothing. With his eyes half opened, most of his muscles wishing to remain where they rest, Shiro scans his surroundings. He looks as deep into the trees ahead as is possible for his eye sight and finds nothing that warrants his attention. The presence, he feels, continues to interfere with his nerves with a strangely positive effect.

No thoughts run through Shiro’s mind at this moment as all of his senses act towards locating the source of the familiar feeling of a close being. Instead of a gut inclination, his consciousness is what pushes him to believe that he is being watched. This occurrence, Shiro remembers, has happened in the past.

“When have I experienced this feeling before?” He asks himself in his thoughts, remaining seated in the grass. His back is leaned against the wall of his home next to its backdoor with his legs crossed into the lotus meditation position. His hands and arms are relaxed, resting in his lap. No muscle support is exerted on his back to sit up straight and Shiro allows the wall to completely hold his weight. “I can remember that is was a pleasant occasion…”

While searching his memories, Shiro catches movement in his peripheral vision and darts his eyes in the direction without moving his head. His thinking immediately turns towards self defense at the sight of a shadowed figure slowly moving behind bushes and trees. All of his muscles become alert at this moment and the adrenaline coursing through his veins causes the speed of his heart beats and their frequency to increase. No longer is the feeling of pleasant accompaniment prominent enough to be a topic of contemplation.

Shiro’s expectation is for whoever it is watching him to stop moving upon his looking in their direction. However, even as Shiro’s eyes follow the body’s subtle change in position over time, its movements continue and gain the speed of normal walking. The figure is located to Shiro’s left and it is at a distance of seven meters from where he is sitting. Its movements bring it closer to the front of his body and his eyes follow, being taken away from their corners.

“I can’t be entirely sure that whoever this is targets me but, at this point, it does not matter. The current situation implies that I am not the objective of an attack. A man or woman trained in the art of conducting one’s movements as a ninja would not have continued moving after I have noticed them. In fact, if I were the target of malicious intent by a ninja, he or she would not have allowed me to notice them in the first place. It would make more sense to stay put and hide in those shadows so that I might think that I saw nothing. But then, how is it that they have managed to produce so little sound out of their footsteps without some knowledge of basic ninja movement techniques?” Shiro, without blinking and while keeping the center of his sight on the still travelling silhouette, rises from his sitting position and stands before turning towards the shape.

Suddenly, at this angle, light from the sun dimly breaks through an area of the shadows, allowing some features of a face to be vaguely seen and reflecting off of the eyes of the figure. Shiro can see the weak orange glow, lower in height than he had believed they would be, but fails to make out the face until the silhouette begins to change positions in a different direction. It moves forward at a slow pace and Shiro can see that it is slower than prior as if with reverence towards him. With each of its steps, the shape of its body becomes more defined and with time, Shiro can conclude that no human has been stalking him but an animal on all four legs that should be up to his his lower abdomen in height. Stripes on its face become more prominent and, with these details, Shiro’s nerves are set at ease. His muscles relax and his shoulders lower. Also, the sense of a pleasant accompaniment that sits with his consciousness returns and is welcomed eagerly.

“Nakama,” Shrio sighs, placing his hands halfway into his pockets. His eyes close with relief and reopen to look at the bengal tiger in front of him. In an effort to seem as calm as possible about the return of his summoning companion, Shiro’s voice is low and average. Within himself, his emotions tell a different story. Never before has Shiro been so pleased by seeing someone he knows well. No more than a slight smile is shown on his face but, in reality, Shiro’s face can be as bright and warm with welcoming light as never before. He greets and questions Nakama with more eagerness in his voice. Shiro has missed this feeling. “It has been some time, hasn’t it? How have you been?”

The tiger stares into Shiro’s eyes and turns to walk back into the trees. Shiro follows, understanding his companion’s intentions without needing to communicate any further. The two cannot yet converse mentally as Shiro knows. Instead, he has been speaking verbally to let Nakama know just how joyous he is to see him. While Shiro may not show it with body language, it is in the sound of his voice, the warm appeal is holds that a human may not understand. This untold compassion is held only between these two, preserved for none other than Nakama.

“He wants me to go along with him.” Shiro thinks, stepping through the bushes that outline the border between his property and the unowned forest region behind it. The grass here beyond his backyard is shorter than the fertilized and treated grass behind his home. The ground, for the most part, is covered by moss or wood in areas where the grass is not long enough to dress the dirt. “In this direction is the river that I had been training next to on the day that I first encountered Nakama. Even farther is the village that he comes from. Though I cannot remember how long of a walk the three of us, Nakama, the village’s head elder, and I had to make before coming upon the grounds of the settlement.”

In the time which Shiro is contemplating Nakama’s purpose for wanting to bring him back to the Village of Tigers, the two of them cross the river with Nakama leaping the width and Shiro body flickering above and past the water. Side by side, Shiro and his companion continue through bushes and trees before Nakama stops abruptly.

Shiro turns to his side, looking into Nakama’s eyes to understand his intentions. He sees his companion focusing his attention towards an area no more than four meters wide with trees like bamboo growing from every inch of the surface. Long blades of grass grow from the base of each stalk. Shiro too looks towards the many thin trees, waiting.

“Did he see a threat, something hiding behind those trees?” Shiro asks himself, turning forwards fully and taking steps back to align with Nakama. “No, he began to slow his pace before reaching this spot. Nakama planned to stop here in front of these abnormally thin and clustered trees. Looking at them, I don’t think that those are trees at all, they don’t have the correct form. A type of bamboo maybe, but in a forest with trees of only two or three species, none of them being close to resembling the a bamboo plant, why have these stalks grown here?”

Suspecting genjutsu to be at work on both Nakama and himself, Shiro begins to make an effort at sensing what chakra might be emanating from the anormal plants. Across the entire four meters of the growing space of the bamboo shoots, chakra coats each individual stalk and pools into one figure of chakra, a cloak around them all. Sensing this, Shiro puts out the idea of genjutsu.

“If this were an illusionary technique, the bamboo would not be the only construct coated in chakra. All of the other plants that I can search for a chakra presence are clean.”

From behind the cluster, Shiro can see the silhouette of an animal with Nakama’s dimensions. Its movements are similar to the movements seen in Nakama’s own silhouette from behind the trees prior. Based on this information, and due to Shiro’s noting the calm stance of his companion, it is concluded that no threat approaches them.

“Making our way to the Village of Tigers, I would not be surprised to see another tiger on the way, especially as we get closer. Are we near the settlement grounds now?” His eyes follow the outline of the tiger behind the trees until it is no longer hidden by them. Before him, is the Village of Tigers’s Grand Elder. “I remember him, the one lying upon the soft grass between two tigers nearly the same old age. I was on my knees before him, listening to the history of the Village of Tigers and to the explanation of my having been selected by Nakama himself as his summoner.”

Shiro lowers his head out of respect as the Grand Elder approaches. His hands leave his pockets and he performs a slight bow. Beside him, Nakama does the same, lowering his head along with the front of his body in what could be perceived as a bow. Both Shiro and Nakama rise once the Grand Elder stops advancing towards them and states that they may be at ease.

“Greetings.” The Grand Elder’s simple hello is made towards Shiro alone as he converses with Nakama mentally. Shiro, using the cues of prolonged eye contact between the Grand Elder and Nakama as well as the silence afterward, he understands that the two speak without his hearing it. He also discerns that their words are confidential.

“Yes…” Shiro’s response is just as brief and he does not expect a response. His patience is rewarded after a short period of silence at the end of which Nakama and the Grand Elder look up towards him. Shiro continues to look into the bamboo shoots, knowing that the two are holding a conversation pertaining to him as a subject.

“Nakama tells me that something strongly disturbs you. Out of respect for you relationship, I have refrained from reading your mental state and have left that task to Nakama himself. He cannot talk to you directly as your bond is not strong enough to carry mental communication. Because of this, he has brought you to me.” The Grand Elder explains Nakama’s actions clearly as Shiro now turns to face them. He nods in understanding and the Grand Elder turns towards the stalks of bamboo before continuing. “If you recall, as I doubt that you do, this cluster of bamboo is the reverse-summoning portal to the Haven Village of Tigers. Before this location entered sight, I brought us through a makeshift door using the same reverse-summoning technique in order that you would not know the way to our home until your potential was trusted. You understand, not all ninja who seem to hold good hearts can be held to the same moral code they strive to mold themselves into. Nakama, however, has been observing you closely. By his judgement, a judgement which I do trust, you will now be permitted direct access to the Haven Village of Tigers. Come.”

Shiro, with Nakama beside him, follows the Grand Elder around the bamboo shoots to the back of their circle. A gap is naturally left facing the opposite direction of the nearest civilization, Hoshigakure. This doorway is wide enough for Shiro to walk through though he must tuck his arms in front of him and widen the gap with his shoulders. The Grand Elder and Nakama are not as wide and possess a fine size to move between the inner area of the bamboo circle and the outside fairly easily.

“Before we enter,” The Grand Elder turns to face Shiro who also turns to give his attention. “Kneel. I will bestow upon your body the chakra key necessary for this transportation, allowing you to move between the Haven Village of Tigers and this location freely."

Shiro does as the Grand Elder asks and lowers his right knee onto the ground while keeping his head lifted and facing the tiger in front of him. The Grand Elder raises his paw slowly and restes one segment (or finger) onto Shiro’s forehead. The paw is then lifted before the tiger gradually extends the claw of the same segment. After these preparations, the paw is placed back onto Shiro’s forehead and the claw descends in a slow manner down the center of his head. This continues until the black blade of a claw has created a thin cut no more than two centimeters in length. The slit, being too shallow to cause any more damage than the breaking of Shiro’s skin, draws no blood.

Once within, bamboo stalks grow quickly from the ground of the gap and Shiro follows them with his eyes as they rise. It is at this point that he notices the height of the bamboo shoots, each being roughly twenty meters tall. From outside, the branches and leaves of surrounding trees cover the abnormally tall bamboo, cutting them off at a height of six meters and giving them a look of normality. From within the bamboo, there is no end to the expanse of height that the stalks extend to. While branches and leaves from outside do not cover the remaining fourteen meters of height from view, the continued beams do not have a visible end, they grow into the sky and become hidden by clouds.

The three of them, Shiro, the Grand Elder, and Nakama stand within the four meter diameter of the circle of bamboo surrounding them. Without wasting time, the Grand Elder speaks just after the company stands in the circle. At the same time, the same bamboo shoots that had grown to close the doorway lower themselves until they disappear into the grass.

“Step out.” The Grand Elder begins walking first into the pitch black scene beyond the opening in the bamboo. Without hesitation, Nakama follows as he has come through this gate numerous times. Shiro, having no experience with space-time jutsu that transport matter this way without the need for a summoner, is intrigued by the inner workings of this reverse-summoning technique, the ability to bring one’s self to a location of choice. While one might come to the quick conclusion that this technique simply involves reworking the summoning mechanics to hold a backward effect, the details, Shiro believes, must be more complex. Though, in reality, Shiro is unconsciously attempting to shield himself from the fear that he knows he will experience simply by looking into the infinite black space ahead. It is as if he knows without insight that he will have a bad time...

As he follows the two tigers, trusting Nakama never to put him in way of harm, Shiro quickly analyses the idea of how this particular mechanism does its job. “The summon technique allows one, such as myself, to transport a person or animal to my location at will as long as I have enough chakra to supply and a contract with the summon’s race should they be an animal. In all cases that I have seen, other persons or animals will not be transported with the summon despite physical contact.” Shiro continues while being enveloped by the blackness beyond the bamboo shoots. Around his body, the feeling of a fluid running across his body begins to form. The black substance is thicker than water yet somehow easier to move through as he walks. The floor he stands upon is undefined, Shiro cannot quite aquant a description to it. Standing on water would feel the same as standing on a moving solid, he has done this before. The feeling of an uncomfortable environment begins to set in and it creeps ever closer into his subconscious. Shiro’s mind is kept off of thinking about what might be happening to him here by speculating further about the technique which brought him into the situation.

“Where is Nakama?” Shiro asks himself, failing to turn his attention towards what he has held as a distraction from the unknown. He finds himself groping through the black substance, refusing to open his eyes knowing that he cannot see through it. “I cannot find the Grand Elder either. Just before we stepped forward, both of them were by my side. How were we separated?” His questions sound as frantic as they would be had Shiro asked them aloud. His mouth will not open out of fear and his muscles are limited to moving his arms aimlessly about.

Comfort finds Shiro though in the form of a paw on his shoulder. He flinches but does not turn, still petrified. The spell of dread upon him is broken following the contact and his eyes finally open as his muscles relax. Turning his head, Shiro catches the ever so comforting sight of Nakama standing upon his hind legs and holding himself up upon his summoner Shiro’s left shoulder. Past Nakama, the Grand Elder stares into Shiro’s eyes.

“Will I always pass through that black space before arriving at this village?” Shiro asks, his breathing returning to normal and putting his left arm around Nakama’s front legs. Behind them, a circle is drawn into the ground where that circle of bamboo had been. The pattern is black in color and resembles a type of sealing symbol.

The Grand Elder sighs, looking back at the transportation circle and at Shiro again. “It is that strong, is it?” He then begins walking forward again. Nakama follows, removing his front legs from Shiro’s left shoulder who also comes along. “What you saw was a manifestation of your unconscious mind. While you may believe that you have explored yourself and found the source of your clouded head, the truth is far from your grasp. Tell me, what is it that you walked through?”

Shiro nearly shutters at having to bring his mind back to the experience but some form of comfort comes over him as if explaining his position to a doctor whose intent is purely to help. “A completely black void-like substance. If that was an illusion, it was a very realistic one. I could feel the texture of that sludge against my skin as I walked through it. Even before leaving the bamboo circle, I saw the same scene through the gap that you and Nakama walked into. I only came back to reality after Nakama placed his paws upon my shoulder.” Throughout the explanation, Shiro looks at the wet grass below.

“From what I can gleam of your experience, the affliction which Nakama has sensed you are feeling is deep within your subconsciousness as illustrated by the scene being dark. I can cleanse your mind… at least I will attempt to do so.” The three come upon a tent as the Grand Elder finishes speaking. The scene is a rainforest with trees creating a pattern of rays of sunlight with their leaves. Foliage is plenty on the ground accompanied by some rotted logs and fallen trees. The atmosphere is humid with much moisture and heat in the air. Shade is not scarce as trees spread wide and carry many leaves upon their numerous branches. Nearby, Shiro can hear running water, likely a stream. As he looks around, the source of the sound is found hiding behind the trunks of trees in the distance, a rushing clear river rolling over smooth stones. More tigers walk along its bank uphill.

The tent before the three is one of many in the area, each sharing the same design of lightly tanned cloth painted with orange rings across its bottom and top. Further ahead, had the three continued in their direction, a large temple made of the same cloth in multiple layers towers into the sky. Orange paint markings decorate this structure as well with squares within circles.

The Grand elder enters the tent first. Inside, there is ample space of nearly three square meters and the tent has a height of four meters coming to a pointed top. Nakama and Shiro follow through the tent’s flap and spread out into the space. The ground is covered with a circular tan colored cloth and white rectangular pillows the length of the average tiger (understandably) are located in three triangular locations. In the center, there is a cushion of the same size with a pattern resembling a black fuinjutsu seal at its top end.

The Grand Elder speaks up again. “Lay here, on this center cushion. Your head should rest upon the fuinjutsu seal. We will begin after the preparations.”

Shiro lays as the Grand Elder tells him, with the back of his head set directly upon the mark. He looks into the top of the tent and at the shaded center as he engages in small talk just as a doctor would his patient before tending to them. “Your village has practitioners in the arts of fuinjutsu. I had thought, and I mean not to assume by this, that members of your race would specialize mainly in ninjutsu and possibly space-time techniques.”

“You would be correct in believing that those two areas of techniques are most prominently taught and known within members of our race.” Shiro turns to look at the Grand Elder who sits upon one of the square cushions with his head down, evidently focusing his chakra towards preparing the coming procedure. At seeing this, Shiro decides to let him concentrate without disturbance. The Grand Elder continues his response. “In fact, I am the only member with prowess in the creation of seals and barriers. That mark under your head was crafted by myself for use in cleansing ailed minds. Should your personal affliction be too great though, it will break the seal and corrupt whatever knowledge it is reaching into. This way, using that fail safe, the procedure is nearly guaranteed to cure you as a corrupted memory will fade in time.

Shiro breaks his silence, curiosity taking over. “You said ‘nearly’. Have you ever experienced a case where the breaking of the seal did not heal your patient?”

“It has happened once. A student of my own, a promising ninja. Nearly half of this village’s inhabitants was a summon of his, a loved companion.” The Grand Elder’s eyes open shortly, his concentration breaking. “Such a promising man. I had considered teaching him the art of absorbing and manipulating senjutsu chakra and giving him the title of tiger sage. It pains me to this day, what happened to him…”

“I see.” Shiro’s head turns back towards looking into the top of the tent. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“In a way, he did die, I did experience a loss. However, I continue to feel his existence. He and I were strongly intertwined, our mental bond was stronger than those of his other Haven tiger summons. Since his fall, I have severed that bond but the pale tether remains. I continue to feel his presence…” The Grand Elder closes his eyes once more, not to focus but to shiver within as if being haunted by his memories. “And he has yet to change himself from the wayward course he walks now. You though, you show promise. Would you show interest in learning from me the art of the sage?”

After a moment of silence both to allow for the Grand Elder to complete his preparations and for Shiro to think about his response, he answers simply. “No. That wouldn’t fall into my skill set, I’m sorry. While I do look forward to bonding with as many of your race as possible, being the tiger sage does not fit my character. You understand.”

“I do…” The tent is silent once more and, by the end of the preparations, Nakama approaches Shiro and lays next to him upon the cloth with his head on the same end. The Grand Elder speaks. “We will begin then. Once we begin, you will enter a sleep-like state. Through it, you will enter an illusion created by your memories. I myself will look through your mind and set aside whatever knowledge causes your unease. You will then experience a dream pertaining to it and come face to face with the problem, accepting it and moving past it. Should you be in mortal danger within the illusion, fend for your life. Death within your mind here will mean your physical death as well so take care. I will also oversee all that you see so that, should you fail to resolve the issue, I can interpret and diagnose your psychological injury. Nakama will await your return so that you might have possess stronger motivation to succeed.”

Shiro nods in understanding, emotionally ready for what lies ahead.

“You will enter your subconscious in a moment…”

In waiting, Shiro takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. As he calms his muscles and his mind knowing that he will soon fall asleep, Shiro also attempts to anticipate what he will soon experience. He speaks in his thoughts. “If what the Grand Elder has said is true, that the black space I had thought I was walking through was a representation of my mental turmoil, then I do not want to see what is causing my troubles for fear that I may not like what I see. The fear back there was sudden. I noticed simply that I could not locate Nakama or the Grand Elder and panicked immediately. My heart raced, my muscles tensed, my breathing hastened.” Shiro sighs, closing his eyes as if out of annoyance. “I am going to have a bad time…”

(4,752/4,752)
[Claims so far: 4,000/4,000 towards Summon: Nakama]

Mon Dec 05, 2016 8:50 pm

Approved <3

Fri Dec 09, 2016 8:51 pm

I open to a dark night. The first things that I notice are one man and one woman to my right and to my left. We stand in front of a door outside of a house in the village of Hoshigakure. There are few stars out tonight as blanket-like clouds block their light from reaching the Earth’s surface. Wind is variable but mild all together. At times, a breeze comes and goes. The temperature this night is lower than average due to the wind chill and the three of us, the man to my left, the woman to my right, and myself all wear enough layers of clothing to stay warm. The moon is one of the only lights in the sky visible through the clouds but even its light is fuzzed and dim. This source allows someone looking up into the sky to determine the speed of the clouds as inconsistencies in the gray covering drift along the image of the moon in a slow fashion. The street is illuminated by lights positioned upon posts along the sides of the path behind me. With the yellow glow, I can see the door in front of me as well as a sign hanging from it that reads “We Are All Human”.

As for people, nearly all in the village are asleep at this hour. The only eyes open are those of the patrolling ninja who are most often within a house or two from this house in front of me. Every other night, when looking out of the window of my room, I would see the same flak jackets on different people in all different areas of the village. Not once since I began watching them would they so frequently pass by one area as if deliberately. This ominous action makes me shiver even through my warm layers.

I am too busy looking up at the passing ninja to notice the door in front of me opening. Where has my quick reaction time gone? I am lacking in awareness, a basic trait of a ninja. The man and woman beside me walk into the open door, passing the man who is holding the handle. I follow, quickening my steps to keep up. While walking in, I glance at the man who has let us in and he smiles at me with warmth. The door behind me is closed by the same person, the homeowner, and I move into the room just beyond the entrance of the vestibule.

Entering this living room, there are two long couches and one reclining chair. They surround and face a glass-top table in the center of a red carpet. The walls are beige with darker brown patterns of flower petal print decorating them. The carpet that I stand on has gold tassels along its outer edge and a gold rectangle of the same shape but with different size within the perimeter of the carpet itself. Each side is about halfway between the center point of the entire carpet and the middle of a side. I can feel the tufts of wool brush against the sides of my feet as they reach higher than the soles of my sandals. The couches are bronze in color, the pattern of leaves being reflective and popping out at the viewer with life as if the furniture were layered in real bronze metal. Above dangles a lamp shade surrounding a bulb that provides white light for the room. That light reflects off of the patterns of the couches and that of the chair to give the room a sense of security, visitors knowing that this place is well kept. One can tell much about a person by the way he or she arranges their living space.

The two beside me when I was outside of the front door, my mother and my father, take their seats in the couch across from the room’s entrance. I follow, seating myself on the side of my father farther from the lone chair to our right. In that chair, sits the home owner, the man who had welcomed us in. He sits comfortably, has good posture, and folds his hands together on his laps. The sense I get from him is one of familiarity and comfort. I know this man.

After silence in the room, my mother and father staring at the carpet below, and the man to our right changing the configurations of his hands occasionally, he speaks first. “We have just about ten more minutes… we depart in five.” My mother and father look more alive but remain silent. “If you worry about our plans being compromised, I assure you, only my closest friends are involved. The transition will be smooth.”

“I don’t underestimate your plan.” My father speaks up first. “But the pressure involved imposes doubt.”

“You need to remain calm. Up until now, we have not run into any problems. In minutes, everything will be wrapped up.” The man smiles with his next words. “And I can most certainly handle my responsibility from here on out.”

At this, my mother and father finally relax themselves. The man who owns this home is a jounin of the village of Hoshigakure, this village. He is a close friend of my parents and, through many occasions, has earned their complete trust. He is a caucasian male with short brown hair and hazel colored eyes. While I do not know his age, I estimate him to be in his late twenties. I know that, in other sightings, his chin has been well shaven and free of stubble. Now though, his beard begins to show in little hairs due to his lack of shaving. While this may be a sign of anxiety, the rest of his face shows no fatigue or other emotional strain. He hides his partial fear well. His body is fit but not as built as my father’s. He wears the average jounin attire for this village but my parents beside me do not.

“...Alright.” The man stands and my parents do the same. I follow afterward. “I would like to wish you luck now. May your travels lead you to find better peace.”

In unison, my mother and father thank him for his positive words. The four of us leave the house and make our way to the gate of the village. There, two guards stand. One faces the village itself while the other patrols the other side of the gate. At our arrival, the first guard greets us and walks our way. His hair is black, long, and unkempt. He too wears the same armor as the man with us.

“You are on time. No persons attempted to arrive before now so the area, we believe, is secure.” He turns and whistles to the guard on the other side of the open gates. That man walks over to the edge of the road and retrieves two duffel bags. The first guard takes the two bags and hands them to my other and father, one each. Afterward, the second guard returns to his post. “Your extra clothing as well as combat gear if necessary. Now, allow us to explain the proceedings for the next two days.”

The four of us as well as the guard walk through the gates and, when we are on the other side, the second guard points out past the dirt road. This area is illuminated only by the light of the moon. Lamps in the immediate area are not lit to allow what goes on here to remain as hidden as possible. In the distance, trees block even the moonlight from reaching the surface and an impenetrable pitch black darkness extends without end.

“You will move straight forward. The road may turn but you will continue straight. An hour out, a black market dealer will meet you in the saloon of a small town. Tell him that Lee sent you and he will provide living space as well as food and water until you can find some location to settle down.” The guard’s explanation continues and I do not listen to the rest of what he has to say. The man next to me, the one with the brown hair and hazel eyes who let us into his home before is turned around and looks back at the village. He eyes the temple in the distance. I also turn around and attempt to stare in the same direction.

Two silhouettes materialize out of the dim moonlight and the man next to me turns his attention towards them. They walk forward until stopping in front of us. Because the man next to me does not take any sort of action, I also let my guard relax. The two are a man and a girl.

“We weren’t followed?” The man next to me asks, his face now more serious.

The man in front of us responds with an affirmative grin. “You are clear. After a quick double check, all strings are still in place. No one suspects anything.”

Next to me, the man relaxes and continues to converse. The girl next to the man who had walked up to us looks at me. She and I know each other, I’m sure. I know that I am pleased to see her and that, in past experiences, she and I have been quite a good pair of friends. At this time, I am thirteen years of age as is she. For some reason though, I cannot describe her face.

“My father told me about your parents.” She whispers. The two of us turn and walk forward leaving the two adults behind. We move forward towards the gate and continue to speak to each other. As we walk, her hands are buried in her pockets and she stares ahead down the road through the gate. “You won’t be too lonely, will you? Genri will take you in?”

I respond knowing neither the answer nor who the one named Genri is. Apparently though, I know very well how to respond. “Yes, that’s what my parents arranged.” My hands are also in my pockets. The two of us, two kids, peas in a pod, friends... “But someday, I will leave to find them and ask why it is that they have to leave today.” A childish dream.

“You and I can go. It will be a mission to find your parents. And then we can return knowing that they’re safe…” Her voice does well to hide it, but she too is sad at heart. The childish nature that she shows simply by saying those words must be some sort of comfort to her emotions. Who would not want to relive their ignorant days from years ago?

I ask myself why she is brought down by my own misfortune but that stupid question is answered the moment I bring up. I remember, “She and I are more than good friends. We are inseparable. My own feelings are amplified through hers. My happiness makes her three times happier and my sadness makes her three times more upset... what a bond...”

The girl’s father behind us speaks up loud enough for her to hear and take the hint. “We’ll be going. Tell them that they have my best wishes.”

I have not spoken after her and she finishes our small meeting as we approach the gates. “You take care.” After this, she and I both turn and I watch her leave with her father.

Though I see her before me, I cannot describe how she looks. I understand at least partially that this is a recollection of my memories but her persona is blank and undefined. I will bring this up to the Grand Elder.

Whether by shame or out of a want to avoid a sour goodbye, my parents depart without final words to me. The man next to me and myself both watch them walk in the distance. He is to my right and his arm is around my left shoulder. My parent's silhouette’s fade gradually over time, making me stand in place for nearly a minute or so. While my mind holds no ill feelings towards this experience as evident by my lack of tears or shaking palms, my heart does beat slower. All of these things culminate into one essence within this extended thought that I live through now: what lies ahead is out of my control and the odds are that I will not enjoy the rest of this memory. I feel no anxiety about this fact...

(2,096)
(2,096/6,848)

Fri Dec 16, 2016 3:30 pm

His name is Genri, apparently. Somehow, I am not surprised despite my not knowing his name beforehand. After giving an affirmative answer to the girl at the gates, I am beginning to think that whatever I do not know myself is known by my past self in memory. For example, I did not know whether or not a man named Genri would take me in after my parents left the village. In fact, I did not know who she was referring to at all, no image of a person flashed in my mind at hearing the name. However, I answered without thinking and as if I knew the answer well enough. That was most definitely my past mind. I plan to continue allowing my memories to guide my actions until I see the true source of my turmoil and strife. Based on the frantic feeling in my heart, so different from the slow beat of sadness moments before, the conflict must be close.

Genri is to my right and his arm is still around my left shoulder. We walk away from the gates and towards his home again. On the way, we converse.

He begins the conversation as I refuse to speak, too deep in thought. “You’re alright, Taiyo?” That is my name now, yes. These events seem to take place nearly a year and a half ago. How it is that I have forgotten an experience only a short time ago must lie in the intensity of my experience, how traumatizing it was. And I will live through it once more. Basic reasoning tells me that I should feel fear or some type of negativity towards my coming renewed hardship. As I walk with Genri now though, I cannot foresee the events that I have forgotten. The fear of the unknown has never been prominent with me. Because I do not know what I will soon face, I am unable to shiver in anticipation for it. For now, I live the memory. That is all I do.

“I’m fine.” My short answer reflects my want to keep conversation to a minimum on this walk. It is still night and the moon has nearly vanished completely. Without it, I cannot determine how much longer morning will take.

Either I have not made my position clear or Genri does not care. He continues to talk to me. “...Your parents have left you in my care. We should get to know each other better. My name is Genri Koutaishi.”

He is an open man. That willingness to reach out for mutual understanding must be what draws me towards gradually desiring to continue conversing. “Ok… I think I’ve seen you before. My parents would talk about you. They say that you’re very skilled in your fields of specialty: ninjutsu, taijutsu, and weaponry.”

Genri pauses before continuing. Looking up at him, he seems more somber than just a moment ago when waving goodbye to my parents and when introducing himself to me. “About your parents... they have asked that I discontinue your ninja training. I understand that you have some of the basics down and that the academy test should be a breeze within the next month. But I would like to respect their wishes…"

I do not respond. At the moment, I think only about what I know so far in the realm of being a ninja. And my parents asked Genri to keep me away from further learning? Very simply put, I am unhappy with this decision. That disatisfied feeling disappears after Genri continues speaking.

“I would most definitely like to respect their wishes, but I must disagree. While you are only thirteen years old, it is my belief that you deserve a say in the matter. By your silence… I assume you would rather continue.” Genri’s decision sells me on liking him. With only a few words, only seconds of conversation, he has managed to win my trust. “My home will be your home for the next few years until you can rent an apartment of your own. Next morning, wait in the yard behind the house.” The two of us come upon Genri’s home. Before entering, he finishes speaking with a grin while looking down at me. “We will then begin working on the foundation for your continued training.”

The happiness I feel is pure, so pure that I could laugh with pleasure. This man, Genri Koutaishi, has filled the void that my absent parents have now left. I do not see him as a father but more so as a close uncle, a friend in the very essence of the word. I will sleep well tonight, I am sure of this.

(782)

(782/7,630)

Mon Dec 19, 2016 3:03 pm

“I said that, on your current path, the next month or so would have you ready to take the genin exam.” Genri, or as I now call him Genri-sensei, stands before me in the yard behind his house. In this area, there is moderately lengthed grass as well as a perimeter of white and pink flowers planted in moist and rich soil. Their area, where the soil the flowers grow in is held, is surrounded by small smooth stones on both the inner division between the grass and the bare dirt as well as the division between that same dirt and the outside beyond this yard. In the center, a well made of stone is planted. In its roof, a wooden bucket is held that might be lowered to the bottom to retrieve water. The yard itself is ten meters across from left to right and fifteen meters long from the house to the forest behind the flowers. Genri and I stand across from each other, his back to the house and mine to the forest. We are five meters apart and the well is to my right.

Genri continues, his hands behind his back and his usual soft smile on his face. “If my regimen is successful, you will experience a more exponential growth. Within two to three weeks, you should be ready for that genin exam.”

Being more warmed up to talking with Genri, I voice my concerns. “Would that be safe? Up until recently, I have not experienced any advanced training. I would think that conditioning might be beneficial before leaping that far ahead.”

“I have taken into account your body and its current level of fitness. This training regimen is meant to increase your physical ability while reducing risk of injury.” Genri explains, beginning to walk forward. He passes me and I turn to keep facing him. At the perimeter of flowers, he stops and turns towards me before continuing. “Beyond this yard is a forest. Walk with me and I will explain further.”

I follow as Genri walks over the flowers and through unruly foliage now entering the forest. The trees create shadows and the scene is dark. My eyes adjust in time as the two of us follow a beaten path. Genri must have walked this same road multiple times before taking me through now. Has he followed the same training schedule that I will be put through?

The road takes multiple turns and splits into two or three paths often. I attempt to analyze the paths we take so that I can map out this particular route but the turns are many in number and I lose track of our position.

“You should not bother keeping track of where you walk on these roads. Continuously taking one direction when presented with a separation of paths will eventually bring you back to the house.” Genri explains the intricate design of these paths and I am reassured. I did not doubt at any moment that he and I would be lost as I know that he must understand these routes well, but I do plan on trekking through these woods myself at a later date. To lose my way here would be an embarrassment. “Before we can talk about what kind of training you will be doing, I have to ask you about what you want out of the next two weeks. I can teach you the basics of one of my three specialties: ninjutsu, taijutsu, and weaponry. On top of this, I can get you affiliated with one of three nature transformations: wind, lightning, and paper. Paper, of course, I will not teach you as it is a bloodline trait of my clan. Your own clan bloodline will heavily determine the skills that I teach you to master.”

I respond, proud of what I already know how to do. “I’ve found that I have an affinity for fire release and the nature transformation is quite easy for me to perform.”

“Good, congratulations on that feat. Your specialty, I assume, will be either taijutsu or weaponry. I know the kekkei genkai that your parents possess, the Shikotsumyaku. The techniques involved with that bloodline are taijutsu based and the efficient use of bone weapons would fall under the weaponry specialty. You may decide which of the two you want to delve into.”

“I have settled on taijutsu. Based on what I have seen at the training grounds as well as some of what my parents have told me about it, taijutsu seems like the most beneficial foundation for my bloodline.”

“It’s good to hear that you have everything in order.” Genri smiles down at me. Somehow, whenever he smiles, I do not get bored of seeing his face. No two expressions are alike and each is more sincere than the last as if he also grows closer to me as I grow closer to him. “Fire release is not a nature transformation of mine but if you have it down, I will not try to cover up your affinity. Based on what you have told me, I will be associating you with taijutsu. This will be simple enough for the next two weeks. Now, let me tell you about why we are walking through this forest.”

I become attentive, putting away the process of noting the scenery of different paths so that my full attention is paid towards Genri and his explanation. I consider this to be part of my training.

“The usage of taijutsu that I will teach you is best amplified by a calm mind. The cleaner your conscience, the more effective your strikes will become.” Before continuing, he takes a deep breath in and exhales slowly. “Smell the air. The scent of pine needles and fresh dew, do you smell it? And do you feel the soft dirt beneath your sandals? Can you hear the chirping of the birds above you? See the sunlight shine through the leaves of these trees, note the pattern that the shadows make along the ground. When these senses and what they each experience separately are culminated into one experience, your experience at this moment, how would you describe it?”

Genri allows me to respond and my answer is simple. “Tranquil.”

“The best answer.” He tells me the moment after I speak the word. “Before you master the taijutsu that I will teach you, you must first master tranquility. Every morning, you and I will walk through these paths. You may choose our turns, making sure that we return home well before noon. Now, we will begin making our way back to the house. There, you can display your control of the fire nature transformation.”

“What turns will we be taking?” I ask Genri.

“Lefts. We should arrive in a short amount of time, two or three minutes at this speed.” He looks down at me as we make a left turn at a split in out path. I must seem contemplative, because I have caused him to ask me what my trouble is. “Is something bothering you?”

I have no problem telling him of my thoughts. “It’s about my parents. Why did they leave the village? And why did the higher-ups let them go?” Without a doubt, I must sound childish. I ask multiple question with desperation as if I cannot figure the answers out for myself. But I must remember that I live now as the Taiyo of more than a year ago.

Genri takes a moment to respond, likely thinking of an answer that I will accept, one without holes that will leave me to continue wondering. “Your parents were unhappy with the current condition of the village. The religious community does not take well to the presence of us ninja…” Again, a pause. “Because of turmoil within the village’s society, your parents left in search of a better life, one with a less stressful atmosphere. They allowed you to stay here in the village because they had a hope that circumstances would become more favorable by the time you become your own man. The reason they asked me to discontinue your training as a ninja is because they did not want the people to antagonize you based on your occupation the same way that they, along with many others, have been treated. As for the leaders allowing them to leave…” Why does he continue to stop short before speaking? “The leaders promote their decision. Losing two ninja is not a large decrease in the village’s strength, you see. It does not happen often but your parents were an exception.”

I look up at his face and his somber eyes looks back as me. My current mind, Shiro, understands very well that what he says is a lie but Taiyo eats up these words for fact and the questions that he asked are settled. Taiyo is satisfied but I am not. I can reason well enough that the village’s leaders did not allow my parents to go freely. It is most likely that they snuck out of the village and covered their tracks on documents.

And the girl that stood beside me and proposed that we leave one day on a mission to find my parents. Has she been told these same lies?

It is for my own good, Taiyo’s own good, that Genri has decided to lie about the events that transpired before my parents departed. Had I known the truth, that my mother and father were doing the work of criminals, I would have grown distant from them and their past words of wisdom would have held less weight in my mind.

“You are probably wondering how you should feel about the controversy between the religious citizens and the shinobi defenses of the village… I will give you my own view and you may take it for whatever you like.” I begin listening to Genri again, eager to hear what his heart says on the matter of the village’s self inflicted strife. “Put simply, we ninja are tasked with defending the village and eliminating immediate threats to its residents. These are fine works. The priests of the village provide the people with a faith that fortifies their convictions for doing good things and straying from bad actions. These are also fine works. The problem emerging is the idea that the use of chakra in our techniques is… questionable. Some call it unholy, others call it magic. Ultimately, we ninja continue to protect these people despite our being misunderstood. All we can do is hold out until compromise can be reached. Do you understand the situation?”

This is brainwashing nonsense. “Yes, I think that I do.”

“It is best that all hold the belief that good works should be done no matter the circumstances. We ninja may be oppressed but we continue to provide protection services.” Genri smiles with his next words. “All men and women are equal, deserving the same treatment. This is why we stand firm in our position.”

Satisfied with our conversation, I continue with Genri until we reach the house. I do not speak for the rest of the walk but I do conclude that further thought must be put into what I have been told. Taiyo, though he completely believes Genri’s words, desires to ponder upon how he should really feel about his circumstances. I will, as Taiyo did in the past at this time, take these roots in the forest every night to further my quest for attaining tranquility. Genri’s words pertaining to the situation within the village, the separation between the ninja and the common people, also make their way into my heart. I look up to him with reverence and see him as a prime role model. How is it that I have forgotten him? Soon, I fear, I will know the answer…

(1,977)
(1,977/8,607)

Fri Dec 23, 2016 2:07 pm

It is late at night. Just as I had promised myself, I have been traversing the maze behind the house. Over the past week, I have indeed grown under Genri-sensei’s teachings. The two of us have continued to walk together among these same roads every morning. Those times combined with the private tranquility sessions I put myself through have culminaed into a boosted speed towards mastering the art of calming one’s mind before a battle.

These times at night, I think often about Genri’s words to me. What wisdom he imparted in his description of the ninja and priest controversy. Not only is his point valid, but it is the most valiant and good-hearted that I have ever heard. I, Taiyo, cannot put into words the admiration I have for Genri. I want ever so much to grow up to be like him and to share his qualities: having his mindset, his view of the world, and how he acts upon those views. What I do now, taking my own walks through this forest and furthering this training of my own accord, it is all in an effort to imitate Genri-sensei.

This area is well known to me now. By taking a randomized number and direction of turns, I can determine my location among the maze simply by noting my surroundings. Every time that I do this, I take in the sight of a tree-filled scenery, the scent of pine needles, the feeling of moisture brushing past my skin as well as the ground sinking beneath my sandals, I hear the birds singing to me…. Why is their song so melancholy? A chill runs down my spine upon hearing the song of the birds above me. Why do they sing such a blood curtling song? Have one of their own died before its time? Do I or another person disturb their peace? In the past week, neither Genri and I together in the mornings nor I alone at night have heard the birds sing this way…

In the distance, I hear nothing that could be startling the creatures. I notice though that the sound of the birds moves further behind me now that I stand still. The flock is moving in one direction, likely away from whatever is the source of their discomfort. Because I cannot hear anything, it must be some sight that has unnerved these birds. An animal’s corpse? The sight of a predator? Is a shinobi training up ahead?

I sense that my contention with this section of my memory approaches quickly. When it comes, I should recognize it….

My steps quicken as I feel inclined to aid these creatures in alleviating their stress. I move straight ahead, ignoring the division of the path and making my way into the uncharted grassy region. In time, my walking becomes running. Shadows materialize ahead, three of them.

Between my noticing the problem and arriving at it, nothing happens but the sharpening of my focus towards whatever it is that I must do. Should I accomplish this task, I will have achieved another fine aspect of Genri’s personality: his will to do good by all means.

But my heart chokes upon the sight that I take in. Those three standing shadows become distinguishable figures. I trip and fall forward into an open field. My face lands upon the grass and a warm liquid is splashed upon my cheek. On my face, it runs cold quickly. When I rise and look once more at what I hope is not really there, all perceptions come together. This is blood I feel and smell. What I see is the personification of gore and it is amplified by the feeling of deceit that eats away at my very soul.

It truly is for my benefit that I have forgotten this event along with anyone and everyone having anything to do with it…

(648)
(648/9,255)

Tue Dec 27, 2016 4:15 pm

(Disclaimer: The following post may be unpleasant for the weak-hearted reader. Should you decide to skip this post, a note is added at the end to let you know what has happened.)
(For those who decide to read on, know that the initial beginning of this part is written in an unprofessional fashion in order to capture the sense of Taiyo’s disorientation at the time. The first paragraph contains powerful symbolism that the reader does not need to decipher in order to understand the text. You may either continue leisurely or decide to analyze for a deeper understanding of Taiyo’s emotional state and inner thoughts pertaining to what he sees. Now that I have given these notes, I will continue this story.)

I can describe this experience in few words: shattering, crushing… and then there are those feelings that cannot be put into words no matter how vivid the image before me is. Yes, this is blood splattered upon my cheek. I look up from the ground to see a face that I must immediately turn away from. The grass below my hands is cold and wet, likely with more of the blood that I have fallen upon. I ask myself who’s blood this is but my current position forces me to stop asking questions and focus on my next actions. My thoughts are sporadic, I cannot think straight. The sky rains its stars through the openings between the leaves above. On their way down, the stars pierce fleeing birds and nail them into the ground in front of me, the blood from their targets staining the spears of light and darkening their radiance. That grace and beauty that both the birds and the stars once possessed is done away with in an instant and replaced by the sight of dread inducing slaughter. I cannot number the body count and the stars only continue to rain down from above. All I want right now is to wake up from this nightmare, to find out that this is all a dream and what I see is not a reality.

I have been thinking hysterically due to shock for the past second or so. As my mind clears, the nailed birds disappear and I regain strength in my arms and legs. My neck can move now and I turn my head to look quickly at the source of the blood on the grass. A body clad in rich white robes lies to my right, blood flowing from beneath it. This man is face down and a dagger is plunged into his back. From the wound on his back, blood stains the white cloth.

Now, I cannot avoid it any longer. Before, I looked once for an instant and involuntarily turned away and became delirious with a short illusion. The effect has now passed and I turn my head up to face Genri Koutaishi. He faces another figure but his eyes are focused downward upon me. In front of him, the figure he faces is clad in the same white clothing as the corpse to my right. Genri has his left hand upon the man’s right shoulder with his right up against his abdomen.

My vision opens up to encompass more of what is in front of me. As I perceive more, the details come pouring in. Out of the back of the man in white clothing, a long shape protrudes. This is a blade, Genri’s blade. Its hilt is in Genri’s right hand and this is why that hand is close to the abdomen. The victim's hands are holding Genri’s right hand and his eyes have widened. His mouth is opened slightly as if beginning to speak but no words escape him before he is pushed backward. Genri’s left hand forces the man’s right shoulder back resulting in the body sliding off of his blade and onto the ground the resulting sound causing me to flinch.

Genri turns towards me and I stand as he walks closer, my mind focusing on fleeing for my life. Once I get to my feet, Genri stops three meters from my position. I cannot bring my legs to move for fear that this much faster menace will be upon me within less than a second of my darting away. So I stand here, my eyes darting between Genri’s blade, the dagger in the corpse to my right, and the now dead second man behind Genri. My throat quivers and my hands shake. Evidently, there is a definite showing of terror on my face because Genri relaxes himself and puts on an inviting face. I am not taken in by his smile or by his sincere eyes. My hands ball into fists upon seeing him attempt to deceive me once again.

“What…?” I finally bring myself to speak but my voice is dripping with anxiety. I repeat the same word and it hangs above the two of us like a cloud. Genri knows that I am confused and angry at the same time but also that I do not know the circumstances of his actions. I can be won over…

“Taiyo… I did not want you to see that.” He takes a step forward and I take a step back. I would rather keep three meters between us than have that distance shortened further. “I’m sorry, that was not what it looked like. These priests…” What is he doing now, trying to fabricate a testimony?

I do not give him the chance, beginning to shake my head. “You didn’t… they’re dead.” My eyes begin to water and the thorns choking my heart twist their captive to shreds. “And you killed them. I saw you. You killed them.”

Genri drops his sincerity act, knowing that I cannot be turned away from the horrible truth that I have witnessed. His face darkens and his eyes revert to their malice-filled state. Suddenly, Genri is looking at me the same way that he had looked at the second man, the man with a sword through his stomach. I step back once more but he does not follow. Now, I am lined up with the dagger in the back of the priest next to me.

“This much is true… that I did not want you to see these things. The stars must be falling out of the sky for you… spearing birds as they sink like stone. And those stars were stained with the blood of those birds, weren’t they?” Genri repeats the things that I saw in my delirious state. “At least, that is one way to put it form your own point of view. And I’m sorry that you have had to…” He does not finish his sentence. Genri’s face becomes one of sadness now and I do not see through it as a facade of an emotion. At this moment, Genri truly does feel sorrow, but not for the priests. “Just… let me put you out of your misery… won’t you?”

I do not waste time rolling to my right and grabbing the dagger out of the back of the corpse. My train of thought and processing are working with full attention. Before Genri leaps forward with his blade, I am ready for him. Thanks to his hesitation, likely due to a lack of drive to slay his student, I am alive now.

“I…” But I do not know what to say. The corpse is now between Genri and I, with me on the other side of the body and Genri in the position that I had been before rolling and standing ready. Again, I attempt to speak as Genri straightens up and fully faces me. The dagger is in my right hand and I hold it forward facing. It is loosely positioned in front of my chest ready to parry a follow-up strike. I know that I will not leave this immediate area without a fight and it will be a fight in which I have a great disadvantage. Genri is stronger, faster, and better in control of his mind than I am right now. But just now, his strike was slower than I had anticipated, I could see it coming. My chance lies in Genri hesitating once more before trying to kill me. Then, I will take offensive action. Both he and I are on edge. Emotions swirl through this battle and rack our souls with strong anxiety. Genri cannot bring himself to swiftly kill me, his first student. In the same way, it will be difficult for me to attempt a strike when the opportunity presents itself. In order to save myself, I need to forget how I feel. If my emotions keep me from doing what must be done, then I will severe them for the time being. All I want now is to survive, that is a strong drive. But whether or not that drive is stronger than my reverence for Genri… I should know with the next clash.

Genri takes a lunge forward, his sword prepared to pierce into my mid-section. At this moment, his driving foot slows and my opening appears. I lower my body until the I am out of the line of Genri’s blade. Seeing this, he alters the momentum of his blade to swing downward towards my back. By looking at his left shoulder and noting its movement, I discern these actions and apply further force through my left hand. I hope to keep his arm from descending further but, as expected, his strength overpowers my own. My dagger clashes with Genri’s blade in a last resort defense. Originally, my plan was to slash at his abdomen and wound him, allowing me to flee. Now though, I must let go of that prospect and give up my last offensive capability in order to keep myself alive and prolong this fight. This chance is lost but another will show itself.

The sound of my blade clashing with Genri’s is sharp and reverberates among the trees. I now have the idea that another capable ninja might hear my struggle and arrive to give aid. But I do not set my heart on this hope for fear that it may not be met before this fight is over.

With the dagger in my right hand blocking Genri’s descending blade, I use my left hand to swiftly push against his core. With my carried momentum, I make a leap over the body below me to force this enemy backward. My feet plant themselves firmly into the ground ahead of the corpse and I face Genri now just one meter in front of me, still staggering backward. I am still bent low with caution. From what I see, he is unable to settle his own feelings and go ahead with the actions he wishes to carry out. Yet he continues to try, only failing to commit and allowing me to capitalize on his small weakness.

“It is best that all hold the belief that good works should be done no matter the circumstances.” I repeat Genri’s words in my thoughts as I, once again, take full advantage of Genri’s inability to balance himself. My body moves without my needing to direct its actions, pure instinct drives me. “Ultimately, we ninja continue to protect these people despite our being misunderstood.” I cannot escape rehearing Genri’s words. “All men and women are equal, deserving the same treatment. This is why we stand firm in our position.” The dagger in my right hand is brought forward and I lunge the short distance, slashing into my target’s mid-section. My feet stop and my body stands still as Genri’s falls backward. His sword remains in his right hand. “And I ate into his lies…”

Having spent the last of my emotional drive, I drop to my knees in front of Genri and drop the dagger in the grass. He moans, rising and holding his abdomen with his left arm. From behind me, I hear new voices.

“It came from this direction, the sound of clashing metal similar to the parrying of blades.” One voice says, closing in. Another is with him, agreeing with what the two heard. They are here within moments of my noticing them. When they leap into the scene, Genri glares past me at them, sighing under his breath. The sword in his right hand is dropped and he turns, leaping into the trees and and out of sight.

“Care for the kid, I will go after the runner.” The second voice runs ahead of me and I see his clothing that identify him as a jounin. Another jounin, the first voice, wearing the same armor kneels facing me. I do not look up to face him. He takes my hands one after another in one of his own and wipes the blood off of each. His other hand uses his thumb to wipe the blood off of my cheek.

“Are you injured anywhere?” The jounin asks me. I do not answer, my head hanging downward and staring at the dagger in front of my knees. No tears come from my eyes but the anguish in my spirit is too great to allow me to speak of it. The injury that has been inflicted upon me is emotional, not physical.

The rest is black.

(Note: In this post, Taiyo and Genri clashed blades, Genri being wounded and Taiyo not suffering a single scratch. Due to Genri's lack of will to kill his student, he flees the scene followed by one of two jounin who arrive after hearing the collision of blades. Taiyo loses consciousness and is taken to a hospital. This is where the next post picks up.)

(2,096)
(2,096/11,351)

[Claims: 1,250 towards Dance of the Clematis Flower (claiming with remaining words from: On the Road to Chuunin [Part 2]), 204 towards Daytime Tiger (claiming with remaining words from numerous posts)]

(Note: 1,454 words from this post used towards claims, total 9,897 unclaimed)

Sat Dec 31, 2016 7:55 pm

Approved <3

Wed Jan 04, 2017 3:10 pm

“We took roll this morning.” I hear a voice from no defined direction. At the moment, as I wake up slowly, my senses have yet to fully orient themselves. I keep my eyes closed and simply listen. “Four ninja were not recorded. Of those four, three are known to be on missions outside of the village. Genri is the only ninja not accounted for in any way. Also, the description from the jounin who encountered the murderer last night matches his profile photos.”

Gradually, I get a better understanding for my surroundings. The voices are coming from my right and a wall, off of which the voices bounce, is to my left. I lie upon a soft bed, at least I would assume that this is a bed, and I am face up. I detect light through my eyelids from all directions. With this information, it is deducible that the wall to my left is white and light is reflected bountifully from it.

“Then it is safe to assume that Genri is the perpetrator. Gather all ninja with personal ties to Genri and decipher where he may have fled to.” A second voice coming from the same direction. This one is female. “With the jounin who pursued him nowhere to be found, we have little to go by. Understanding the kind of man Genri is would be our best option.”

“We are starting from scratch on this investigation. I would suggest looking for the jounin who made the pursuit. Where is the scout we sent to find him?” The first voice becomes impatient, unhappy with the current circumstances.

“No word just ye-.” At this moment, interrupting the female voice, I hear the door open abruptly. This next voice is male and his breathing is heavy as if he had run here.

“Intel just came in, Itsuki has been found dead a quarter of a mile from the crime scene…” His voice trails off, likely after seeing the faces of the two people already in the room. This must be the scout that the first male voice is referring to. After relaying the words “found dead” following Itsuki’s name, the jounin who had gone ahead to pursue Genri, hearts sank. In an instant, hopes for this case to be a simple act of capturing a killer fade. I cannot see the faces of the people in this room but the silence gives me an idea of the shock in the atmosphere. On their hands is a capital mission. There is no telling what havoc can be wreaked upon Hoshigakure’s name should this runaway ninja commit further atrocities. What would the minor villages think if word of a Hoshigakure defect spread across the land? And now, all efforts to keep the incident under wraps has been burned to ash.

I hear the movement of clothing, swift shuffling. “No leads.” The male voice becomes distant as it repeats these words. He leaves the room.

The female voice sighs, following the first male. “Thank you.” These are her departing words to the scout before she too exits the room. The door remains open and I hear her speak once more. “He is through this door… yes, he is stable, no injuries. I would think that he lost consciousness due to the stress of the situation, not so different from a forced fainting… You can see him, sure.”

Light footsteps grow louder as they come closer quickly. This person is running in, likely female based on the low impact her feet have on the ground. Gradually, now that she is in the room, her running becomes walking and the pace slows as the distance between us shrinks. My eyes remain closed, not wanting to talk at this moment.

She is next to my bed now, he hands rest on the edge. A voice from farther away, likely at the door, speaks up. He is the scout that had entered earlier. “You should make your visit quick. The doctor wants to further examine him.”

“I will be quick.” I can tell by the direction of her voice that she has not turned her head from looking at me. Along with this, also the more important fact, this is the same girl whom I had conversed with at the village gates. Her voice lifts me from my mellow state for a moment. The next words are soft, a whisper. Below me, I feel the sheets being pulled slightly in her direction. She must be gripping the edge of the bed as she speaks. “I’m glad you’re alright, Taiyo. When I got word that you were hospitalized last night, I tried getting into the building to see you. They told me that no visitors were being permitted into your room. Not knowing how you were doing made me worry.”

A pause. The sheets below me loosen again, her hands leaving the mattress. With her next words, a hand is laid upon my forehead. I nearly react but remain composed and motionless aside from my breathing. “But you have really had it hard, haven’t you? One incident after another… you must be so unhappy…” A drop of liquid lands upon my right cheek. By the choking sound of her voice, I discern that this is a tear, her tear. A second falls on top of the last one, combining with it and causing the now larger drop to descend down the side of my face. “And all I can do is watch you struggle to look unaffected for my own sake. You take it upon yourself to shield me from your misfortune, knowing that seeing you this way, seeing you finally broken would cause me just as much pain. From now on, I’m going to do what I can to lift you back up.”

I hear her move away from me. She walks likely towards the door slowly and I hear her footsteps become distant. “I’m leaving now.” Her voice grows quiet until it becomes inaudible mid-sentence.

The room becomes silent and I am left to my own thoughts, now a torture. Have I really faltered in keeping her from worrying about my circumstances? When my parents had left the village, my demeanor was a true reflection of my own feelings towards the future. Never did I give a sign that fear for the unknown had grown within me. My failure was in losing the will to remain conscious last night. Had I walked away from the incident and kept her from knowing about Genri’s defecting from the village, she wouldn’t have to shed tears over me. This is a failure on my part.

“I see that you’ve regained consciousness.” The scout speaks up, interrupting my thoughts. “That girl gave some uplifting words. Why are you unhappy?”

It is now that I feel my own tear streaking down the side of my face. My right arm rises and wipes both the girl’s tears as well as my own away. There is no need for me to act as if I remain unconscious now that this man sees through me. As for his question, I do not answer it, thinking of a response that would make sense to someone other than myself. Before I can do so, he continues.

“You don’t have to answer if I will not understand. I just hate to see a boy with your kind of heart go to waste.” By the sound of his voice, this man is nonchalant about his words. At the same time though, the wisdom of his words comes across clearly and with intelligence. “Promise yourself that those tears of yours mean something. If you do not get back up, then you will have truly failed yourself and those depending on you.”

With these words, my experience as a whole fades away. My eyes open and the room is darkening at a fast rate. I feel my grip on this reality fading as I fall into a sort of limbo, nothingness state. This is the end of the memory.

(1,338)
(1,338/12,689)
(11,325 unclaimed)

Wed Jan 04, 2017 3:54 pm

Shiro regains consciousness before opening his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he welcomes himself back to the real world, to the present. Throughout his body is the sensation of relaxation, pure relief. This is felt along all of his muscles, within his very bones. It manifests in his joints as a feeling of looseness and freedom. While Shiro does not recall having taking note of his physical condition before entering his subconscious, he cannot help but be compelled to believe that the way he feels now is a great improvement from just hours ago. Complete relaxation washes over every muscle in his body at the same time as he remains at rest on the same pillow he laid himself down upon. Still without opening his eyes, Shiro involuntarily recaps his prior experiences within his mind in a short period of time. Every emotion he felt, every sight he saw, the sounds and voices he heard, the scents, and the mental attachments accompanying all of these senses. Indifference, acceptance, optimism, joy; a break in the form of sudden uncertainty, followed by disbelief, grief, deceit, the want to give up, sweet recluse in the form of losing consciousness, self pity, regret, further self pity, a sense of failure… and the negative proves to overwhelmingly trump the positive.

After seeing the outcome of combining the emotions into one instance, Shiro opens his eyes, no longer wishing to see the sight representing the darkness that creeps into his outlook on this moment. Above, he eyes the top of the tent which he is lying in. The familiar sight that was the last image before going under stabilizes his unsteady self and reminds him that the event has ended. However, no sort of safety, no sign of protection, no sense of familiarity, no feeling of warmth can bring Shiro to overcome the emptiness in his mind. He is puzzled upon feeling the mental clarity resulting from having come to terms with his trauma as well as the new emptiness left within the deep recesses of his emotion. Difficult to put into words correctly, Shiro has seemingly lost access to the ability to bring about his own satisfaction or happiness.

To his left, Shiro turns his head and sees the Grand Elder of this village of tigers staring into his eyes. He sits upon the same square pillow that Shiro had seen him on before the procedure. To his right, Nakama lies asleep facing in the opposite direction. Shiro rests his head back upon the fuinjutsu seal at the top of the pillow and inhales deeply. His exhale is slow and refreshing, after which the Grand Elder begins to speak to him slowly.

“Judging by your physical actions… the procedure has been a success.” Shiro turns towards the Grand Elder who continues to look into his eyes as if searching for something about Shiro that he might not find by asking directly. “Throughout your experiences living through the period of time harboring your mental blockage, I kept track of the emotions that you felt. While I do not know what actions you took, the psychological map of the timeline you went through is… intriguing. Do you wish to share what you saw and did?”

Shiro thinks upon the question, looking back into the Grand Elder’s own eyes as he comes to an answer. “To be honest, I feel as though these are things that I would not benefit from sharing. The memory is well enough; putting the experience into words is not an endeavor I would like to begin.” He rises from his lying state and sits up straight upon the long cushion. Shiro’s arms support his body behind him with his hands upon the pillow.

The Grand Elder’s answer is accepting. “I understand completely. Some memories are best kept within one’s own understanding. Asking you to translate would be a burden.” He pauses and closes his eyes before continuing. WIthin his next words, his eyes reopen. “Shiro, through witnessing the emotions that you went through just now within your subconscious, I feel as though my understanding of your condition has improved immensely. Now, allow me to give you a piece of information in return.”

Shiro leans forward and lays his arms upon his knees which rise as his feet come closer to his seat. Ready to listen, he nods.

“My given name is Atama. Along with this, I believe that it is in both of our best interests that you gain the ability to summon me at will.” After the first sentence, Atama places his paw upon Shiro’s left shoulder, discerning by his words that simply walking through my mind during the procedure has amplified his opinion of this human. Shiro seems to have earned greater respect from Atama.

Nakama rises slowly and Shiro turns to face him as he stretches his front legs and back. Finished, he faces Shiro as well and sits in the same position as Atama who continues to speak.

“Nakama, Shiro is feeling much better. Thank you for bringing him here, we were able to alleviate the cause of his mental stress before it caused further personal damage.” Atama turns towards Shiro and Nakama walks towards his front. “I informed him of your emotional state during your time asleep. I would say that he has interpreted your feelings better than I have been able to, judging by his sleeping through the very last portion. This is expected, Nakama and yourself share resonating thought processes. I would be surprised if he failed to understand you as well as he does now.”

Eagerly, Shiro chimes in facing Nakama in front of me. “Then what do you think now? Is whatever troubled you within me gone now?”

What should be a simple question to answer takes a moment of thought. Nakama turns to look at the Grand Elder who in turn faces me in order to inform me of their conversation. “Nakama tells me that the ailment has weakened greatly but also a new complication has arisen. He describes it as ‘some unfilled hole’ in your emotional state where a large portion of joy should fit. That patch is nowhere to be found.”

The same observation that Shiro made upon waking, some lost part of his heart. He responds, telling the others that he has made the same observation. “I thought the same thing just after waking up. I have a much better quality of mental clarity but happiness for myself eludes me. I can’t seem to find it in myself to have joy for this success.”

The tent is silent for a moment, Atama facing Nakama and conversing with him silently. After some time with Shiro waiting patiently to be let in on whatever is being said, Atama speaks up. “After you return home, try to list the actions and activities that make you happy. Do those in moderation and summon Nakama to your side every so often. He will evaluate your emotional state and relay any progress to me. In this problem, I cannot aid you with my own abilities.” Atama rises from sitting. “It should be within a few days that yourself and Nakama will have a matured mental connection. By that time, telekinetic communication should be possible. If by that time, this complication is not solved, then there may be no help… That said, I do believe that with Nakama’s help, you will overcome this just as you have overcome your mental trauma. Until then, you can always meet with me if you would simply like to talk.”

Atama exits the tent and Nakama follows along with me. I will return home though the transportation circle along with Nakama. My hopes are that this newfound issue will be resolved without effort on neither Nakama’s nor my own part. I can tell that this absence of joy is a simple discrepancy, one resolved by a somewhat familiar face…

(1,318)
(1,318/14,007)

[Exit]

[Claims: 140 AP]

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