Dreams, The Whispers of the Other [P]

Sun May 14, 2017 3:12 pm

Late afternoon at the clearing in the nature reserve of Hoshi, the air was thick and rich with the smell of cedar and pine. The clearing seems as if tended to naturally, though the peculiar length of the grass makes it seem like human hands might be the cause.A solitary rock near the center of the clearing looks as though it is worn beyond generations, and no animal perches on or near it. The canopy causes the area to almost cast a healthy green glow as sunlight tries to fight its way through the brush overhead.

Ayato began to swing his arms, traveling into a full circle, dancing in front of his body. He could bet his life on that he was looking lame as hell right now; one of the pros of this secluded location was that no one would actually get to witness this. A great thing indeed, but right now he had to ease his tension from his person once more. Breathing accordingly with his heartbeat, he began to ease his bruised knees before taking up the Gentle Fist stance. Extending his arms, he proceeded to do the same with his fingers from his open palm.

The only thing was left for him to do was to combine the high speed that his arms moved during the Sixty-four palms, the expulsion from chakra through the tenketsu used in. He knew that the only difference is that he had his chakra to the palm of his hands and makes the expulsion from there. “Let’s get this over with.” Ayato still in his gentle fist stance extended his left arm forward while the palm of his right remained closed to the waist as if he was storing power in it. With a sharp exhale his right arm took flight while the left went to his waist. The palm hit thin air and Ayato remained in this form for a couple of seconds and then threw a sharp left. The switching in the palm thrusts went on for a while. Ayato was practicing the form of the Vacuum palm right now, so there would be no projectile coming from his palm yet.

When he felt he got the hang of the form Ayato began to channel chakra into his left dominant hand. He felt the veins bulging as he placed it firmly near the waist. “Hard.” Ayato thought as he endured the soft pain. He yelled the name of the technique and in an explosive motion extended his arm forward. The chakra blast was unleashed from his palm but before he could celebrate his success the recoil from the blast threw him off his feet and sent him reeling in the ground with a loud thud and cloud of dust. Even before the chaos settled, it was not loud enough to muffle the sound of wood shattering in the distance. Work of the Four Sky Palms, and he was done for the day.

Ayato had always despised every single moment of training if truth be told. When he was a kid Ayato was bookish nearly to a fault taking no interest in the play of other children. Many were bemused by his wits, yet there were those that jested sourly his mother had swallowed books and a candle while she had him in his womb. Until that day in the old basement, where his curiosity got the better of him and he stumbled across that scroll. Nobody knew what it might have been, nobody had to learn. Ayato appeared early in the yard the next day “I’ll require sword and armor; it seems I must be a warrior instead.”

And now he was.

Ultimately through the effort of body and mind to the point where he could transform from a bookish boy to a shinobi that could hold his steel, all that by repeating the same practice over and over again. The Eight Trigrams and the Gentle Fist, abilities granted to him from the blood of heroes of age past were a crucial factor to this. But only fitting he supposed since the Hyuuga clan members are understood to achieve growth in capabilities with training as opposed to suffering trauma like the Uchiha.

The only thing that was mildly amiable was the deep sweet ache training left in the muscles afterward. It was after training that he appreciated how great a cold winter peach, like the one he held in his hand tasted. The coolness that exploded in his mouth the moment he took a bite of the orange flesh and a soothing feeling soon followed to overcome his very being. Juices dripping down his chin were not really attractive, but a necessary evil. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he threw the stone over his shoulder and made for home.

The streets of Hoshigakure were brimming with people as always. The teen made his way home, amidst inhabited buildings, carts being pulled horses and people who the only thing that felt for shinobi was bitter disdain. The looks that they exchanged as he made his way past most of the time full of poison. And call him pessimistic ever since the battle with Axwell Florent in the water gardens it felt as if they hated him even more. Ayato gave them the silent treatment, not wishing to react to their taunting. There was part of him though that understood their hate, even though he had done them no wrong.

That mistreatment was the source he once drew power from. Starting every day of my life with a ritual; wake up in the hour before the dawn and dress for practice. The ritual was not the running and weight training, however; the ritual was the sinister looks the locals gave him. Sometimes it took more time than others but the moment he made eye contact and saw that spiteful look on a superstitious villager he had completed the ritual. It was a simple act, but doing it the same way each morning made it repeatable and easy to do. But now, it simply didn’t count, it didn’t matter. He had grown sick of this place and the distrust of the local was not the only reason.

He entered the house, and his brown eyes were jumping from one detail of this room to another in a pretty slow manner as if they were searching for something interesting enough in order to lock onto it for much longer. Wooden ceiling, wooden ground, wooden table and wooden chair, everything was made from natural material causing the room to seem so simple, but cozy at the same time. He sat at his desk, reached into his pocket and pulled out a parchment of paper. Unrolling it gently, he held in on the table, pinning it with a kunai, not allowing folding back to itself.

“We are in search of brave men and women,
We have received reports that the Jaws of Grima have begun moving once more and considering the organization's history with Hoshigakure the higher ups have decided not to take any chances. Your mission is to go out and thin their ranks, or to put it in simpler terms, exterminate their members. Our reports mentioned that several small groups have been spotted moving along the Haven/Shadow borders, so that would be the best place to start your hunt. Be warned though, the Jaws of Grima are dangerous opponents and are not to be underestimated. Especially if the rumors that Nute the Barber is leading them are true. He is a legendary war chief, who in the past he is known to have slain a hundred knights and twice that many men-at-arms. But this is the time of the shinobi – and Barber or not these blasphemous barbarians will trouble as no more.

By hand of the Hoshigakure mission committee“

Ayato drummed his fingers on the wooden desk - in a manner that seemed uncomfortably like frustration. They sure demanded a lot out of them, with nothing to give in return. Exactly the same as the Chuunin Exam. Tenhiyat who Ayato used to admire, was eager to praise his opponents in a match well fought rather than congratulate Ayato on his victory. “Had I let myself be knocked out to the ground by either the yapping magical girl or the priestess, Tenhiyat then would no doubt call my efforts admirable. Actually winning was out of the question, I’ll warrant.” As far as he was concerned he had done his village a favor. This place needed fewer people concerned with rank ups and more people concerned with dignity.

But it didn’t matter, right? It was the same everywhere, they loved him not. Every mission he took he had succeeded, he had trained other shinobi and every fucking time Ayato had to show his loyalty he did. Instead of getting the honor he deserved he was made to suffer slights beyond count. To some he appeared to be a hard man, he knew - but Ayato was no harder than he had to be. It fell to him to restore his clan to its proper place – just as it fell to him to become a shinobi when he was no more than seven years of age. He bore that burden for nearly ten years, and all it earned him was others mockery.

He had enough of it. Sullenly, the black haired Hyuuga rose from his wooden seat and stripped himself of his clothing, and before long he was standing naked against the coolness of the evening. The basin began to fill the bathtub with hot water, steam rising from it. He longed for a hot bath and the smell of soap after training. Yet as soon as he submerged himself within it, he found his mind drifting back into that mission.

Nobody would recognize his efforts no matter what he did - that much had been established. But maybe...Ayato could find the girl he was looking for. He feared what he actually might find, perhaps more than he feared this Nute the Barber would trimming his head off his shoulders. But even if it was all for naught, he would still take that gamble.

He had failed one friend several years ago - when his uncle had convinced him to abandon Buckbeak, the baby crow he had nursed back to health because as his uncle had said, Ayato was making a fool of himself with it. And maybe he was right. But even if that was the case, and Ayato had been a fool then and now...he was never going to fail another.

“Next time we meet each other let us fight and see if you’ve gotten any better.” Natsuki Uzumaki had announced to him passionately, and Ayato had reached out to bump fists. “I am not the same person I was back in the Academy. I meant it when I said this time victory will be mine.” With this proclamation he had responded to her, the knuckles of his fist brushing softly against hers. This was the last time he saw her, heading towards the gates of Hoshigakure.

Many seemed to think that Natsuki a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the people, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire; which was supposed to be lucky. Lucky it might be and red it certainly was, but Azu was such a tangle that Ayato had asked her once if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons. She had punched him in the balls for that.

At a lord’s court, the girl would have never been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round pleasant face, a pug nose, and white but slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart. Ayato had noticed that the first time he’d seen her, however as time passed he was noticing other things. When she smiled the crooked teeth didn’t seem to matter. And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, that held life within. And sometimes in the classroom when she sat hugging her knees with sunlight falling in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling…well, that stirred some things as well.

Ayato rose from the bathtub and shifted into his sleepwear. Next stop was his featherbed that saw seldom use as of late. Ayato had trouble sleeping for the past fortnight, every time he tried to the walls pressed close and the wooden ceiling hung heavy above him, a bed the room was his cell and his apartment his prison. But today would be different. The moon and that stars were shining brightly against a dark purple sky, and Ayato had left the drapes of his window open to let their light in - hoping its radiance would soothe him to sleep.

The Forest of Dreams

Not sure when he had allowed himself to drift to sleep, or for long ago it actually was. All he could do was take one step and then another to reach deeper into the forest. There was a chilling wind that blew out making the trees rustle like living things, falling leaves whispering as they passed Ayato's face. There was an edge to this darkness that he did not like and made the hair in his spine rise. In his dream the night before a rain had fallen and the ground was a dump and muddy rocks and roots hidden under the crust that had formed on a new ground, waiting for the careless and the unwary to trip him up. The cloudless sky turned a deep blue then faded to black. The stars began to come and then the moon. Finally some light! Ayato was glad for it though the darkness the moonlight gave shape to the ghostly mist of the dark forest.

The Hyuuga Compound & The Training Yard

From within the ghostly mist, a gray castle emerged, the walls more smoke than granite. They were a few things to remember about the Hyuuga compound as a structure itself. But he could see it in front of him as clear as it had been. The walls were made of the finest stone, the decorations of gold and silver dust, and the porcelain items of the highest quality standing upon the work of wood masons, several servants trying to keep everything tidy and men at arms guarding the rooms of the elders.

There was a window in the covered bridge between the armory and Main Keep where you had a view of the whole yard. That was where Ayato stopped to watch the action. For as long as he could remember the yard was always alive at day with a chorus of thuds and grunts the sounds steel on steel, the shinobi of the Hyuuga honing their skills. But in his dream, the yard was silent, as if everyone had some sort of unspoken agreement of taking a break. The wind blew through the area carrying the sounds of slight whispers of the trees. Then he finally saw it, two young boys drilling, huffing and puffing and hitting at each other with naked palm strikes.

Before long, the youngest of the two was rolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing, the other was standing over him with an upraised fist, ready to whack him once he regained his feet. The realization came a second too late."You truly are hopeless, Aya. " When Kaede buried his palm into his face and shattered the jaw of the younger kid when he was downed. Ayato could feel the taste of iron exploded in his mouth as it had in life. “When a missing-nin comes to slit your throat, how are you expected to fight, by writing him letters?” Suddenly there was a roar of laughter, and the two in the yard were surrounded by men Ayato no longer remembered their faces. Holding Ayato’s book in his hand, Kaede set the pages ablaze - of course, his brother was short on patience to actually watch the leather cover to burn as well, so he threw the ruined book in the pond. "That's for your own good, you’ll thank me for it later sweet brother."

That brought more laughter from the rest, but Ayato's face had grown as still as a pool. He was ready to jump out the window and down in the yard to choke the laughter out of them all, but soon remembered they were shades, whispers of his soul. Finally, he left the window. "This was the essence of Kaede, my beloved brother. Fool of piss and sullen pride. That's what happens when you are too good too young. Still, he was the one who got to be loyal to the end and a better man than me, all agreed." No doubt, he would know what to do if he were in my shoes. He was meant to save damsels in distress, to be a Jounin, to be cheered at a tourney, common people loved him so much you’d think he was the Kage.

"Joke is on you, Kae. You had it in you to be great, but impulsiveness had to lead you to an early grave. Still I though I'd be glad to be rid of a piece of shit like you...but I loved you, brother. I know that now. And I miss you...like I miss my mother. " His eyes began to water...Was he crying? he must not let his father see. Four sons had been born from the loins of Hibari Hyuuga, and Ayato was the least of them all. But he was still a Hyuuga, and a Hyuuga must never be weak. To this world, he would be the extra son - the afterthought - the one that was never loved. Yet somehow he had managed to outlive all his fine brothers. And what by rights would have been their cup, it had now passed to him, even though he had never asked for it. Yet now it was in his hand and he had to drink.

The Broken Tower

The ground began to crumble, withering away. He had to get away of here, he didn’t belong here anymore. The highest place, the tower - he had to get there, it would be his salvation. There was a shorter way to get there, Ayato remembered - You could climb straight up the straights of the structure itself but the stones were loose, the mortar that held them long obliterated to ash, so Ayato even as a child never liked to put his full weight in them.

The best and ironically enough the safest way was to start from the wood shiny up the tall sentinel tree of the Hyuuga garden over the armory and the guard barracks leaping. He liked the birds, the crows, in the broker tower, the tiny little sparrows that nested in cracks between the stone, the ancient owl that slept in the dusty loft above the old barracks. Ayato knew them all.

His favorite place was the broken tower. Once it had been a watchtower, the tallest on the Hyuuga compounds. But more than two decades ago, a lightning strike had set it afire and devastated the building. The top third of the structure had collapsed and the tower had never been rebuilt. Among the jump of the fallen stones and charred and rotten beams, spiders made their nest.But no ever got up to the jagged top of the structure now except for Ayato and the crows.

Some might have suggested that the crows would come to peck out his eyes. Ayato was not impressed. He had a crow when he was younger, Buckbeak who used to flap behind him from room to room and sometimes he had the pockets of his cloak filled with corn and the blackbird ate it right out of his hand. Buckbeak never displayed any interest to make a feast out of his eyes. Why would the crows atop the tower be any different?

He continued climbing and enjoyed how it felt to pulling himself up a wall stone by stone, fingers, and toes digging hard into the small crevices between. He always took off his shinobi sandals before he climbed using his toes made his as if there was another of hands at his disposal.

That brought up him up the blind side of the Old Hyuuga keep a squat round fortress that was taller than it looked. Only rats and spiders lived there, but the old stone still made for good climbing. In his dream, he remembered. You could go straight up the stone loons leaned out blindly over empty space and swing from stone lion to stone lion hand over hand around to the north side. There if you really stretched, you could reach out and pull yourself over to the broken tower where it leaned close. The last part was the scramble up the blackened stones to the series, no more than ten feet, and the crows would come around to see if you brought any corn. Ayato was moving from statue to statue when he heard the voices. There was a row of windows beneath him and the voice was drifting out of the last window on his side.

The Falling

Ayato turned at the sudden sound of wings. Red feathers filled his eyes as sharp talons buried themselves in his face. Red pain lanced through, sudden and fierce as pinions beat around his head. He saw the beak, but there was no time to get a hand or a reach for a weapon. Ayato reeled backward his foot lost the stirrup, his heart broke in panic and then he was falling.

Everything happened at once. Ayato tried to pull himself up, bending double as he reached for the stone. He was in too much of a hurry his hand scrapped useless across the smooth stone, and in his panic, his legs slipped and he was falling. There was an instant of vertigo a sickening lurch as the window flashed past. He shot out a hand grabbed for the edge it caught again with his other hand. He swung against the building hard. The impact knocked the wind out of him. Ayato’s finger started to go up. He grabbed the ledge with his other hand, fingernails dug into unyielding stone.

But the crow clung to his face all the same; its talons tearing at him as it flapped and shrieked and pecked. The world turned upside down in a chaos of feathers and blood, and then he was falling – there was nowhere to hold on to, but the ground never came up to smash him. He could see it though, it was so far below him he could barely make it out through the gray mists that whirled around him, but he could feel how fast he was descending, and he knew what was waiting for him down there. Doom.

They kept falling as one, smacking into the air, a mass of light and dark plummeting below the surface. They continued to descend deeper and deeper into the shadows to the part of the world sun could not penetrate, where the darkness gained life on its own.

The next thing he knew he was on his face, with the taste of mud and blood in his mouth and the world was black. “My eyes,” Ayato said panicked rising to his feet only to stumble down and fall again. “What place is this?” There were scents in the darkness the rich brown smell of the wood and hard smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew he was smelling death. Ayato cringed back, his hair bristling.

“Your place.” Someone said, someone horrible. It almost sounded like his brother.

Ayato turned his head around towards the source of the voice and made to attack blindly. “What do you know.” He screamed and the response was only the flapping of wings. “More than you, Ayato Hyuuga.” He couldn’t see, but he could feel it, all the same, iIt was the damnable red raven that had attacked him before, speaking to him with his brother's voice. Dodging Ayato's blind charge by lazily moving to the side. Was that all Ayato was worth? A pair of eyes? Pray it had not been true.

After a few moments, that felt like an eternity - the voice echoed through the darkness again. “Be careful I’m no fabled warrior such as you are, overcoming little girls is a feat only a few can boast of. “ The raven croaked, with a glint of mockery in his baritone voice. “Tell me truly, which one caused you more trouble? Was it the half-wit that can’t count past six or the priestess and her rotten lizard?” Said the bird, and Ayato gaped in surprise, that thrice damned crow must have peeked into his heart while he was dreaming. He would have choked that bird, had he been able to see where it was. “Screw you, I took no joy in that empty victory. It was my duty to beat everyone that day and I essentially did that.”

“Just so. A bold Hyuuga. Exactly as you were with Axwell Florent. ” The voice of the bird echoed from the darkness, and it felt more like a knife to the gut. Ayato's words were caught in his mouth, and he choked on them. He didn't need to dream to remember. The water gardens, he was winning, the knight was at least twice his age but Ayato was pushing him back in close quarters...and then, madness. Axwell Florent transformed into a beast, a bipedal wolf and that terrifying scream followed. Ayato did not recall what happened next but he was flat on his back, lying on the ground broken and useless, slashed across the chest and unable to get back up. He thought for certain he was going to die that day only for Kenshin to come and save him.

“Why do you want to venture, knowing that even if you take a single step, a cruel death and a living hell might the only things that await you? Is it glory you seek?” The red raven said, there was no need to process what he meant, living hell Natsuki Uzumaki lying dead in a pool of blood.

“Glory!?” Ayato bristled, anger coiling around him like a snake. His chakra began to build within him and the dome of darkness around him cracked, allowing beams of light to pierce through it. "I have no interest in such thing.” Many, were lead to their bloody deaths in search of valor and glory. This was the truth of the shinobi world, and it was nothing but unspeakable despair. A crime we call victory, paid by the suffering of the defeated. Yet to this everyone remains ignorant. And that is because in every era a dazzling hero has blinded people with their legends and prevented them from seeing the evil of bloodshed. The nature of shinobi has not advantaged a step beyond the dawn of days. No wonder, you can’t help yourself when it comes to the thing one longs for.

And Ayato laughed. "Getting belittled by a fucking crow. Have I grown full delusional?" He felt a wetness running down his face that could only be blood. It tickled at first, but suddenly it began to burn the skin of his cheeks. Beams of light were peering through the curtain of darkness, as the dome began to crumble, shattering like glass. He lips moved and the words his voice. “Fine, I’ll tell you what I want.”

Ayato awoke with a start, gasping for air and clutching his aching chest, his lungs screamed, his mind fought to escape the daze. Another blink of his eyes and a soft nectar curtain leaked into his vision. He looked towards the open window. “Dawn” Ayato said, he was awake.

[EXIT]

WC: 4668
Claiming
1338 Brynden A-rank crow summon. Already at 2662 [4000|4000]
1666 Forest of Dream Crows already at 334 [2000|2000]
1664 Eight Trigrams: Four Sky Palms [1664|4000]
46AP

Sun May 14, 2017 9:36 pm

Everything looks good man, approved. Also that was a great read

Dreams, The Whispers of the Other [P]

Dreams, The Whispers of the Other [P]

Re: Dreams, The Whispers of the Other [P]