The Dead and Buried

Kazuo awoke in his tent, a chill on his spine. His fire had gone out in the cold of the night, and he had merely bundled up and hunkered down in his sleeping bag. Rising groggily, he wrapped himself in his cloak and stood, breathing a small jet of flames to warm his hands. He pulled open the flap of his tent and stepped out into the daylight. Shielding his dark eyes, he looked down to the now snow-covered fire that he had created the previous night. Yawning, he set a few logs upon the fire and heaved a breath of flames upon it. It caught instantly and the logs crackled with heat.

Kazuo warmed himself at the fire for a few minutes, still wrapped in his cloak. No members of Hitsuyo Aku had arrived yet, but Kazuo had plenty of time to keep himself occupied. The seal upon his neck was proving most time-consuming to keep under control. He was finally able to keep the damned thing from consuming him whenever he expended chakra, and he was even able to keep it under control when he gave in and accepted its power. He had used this very power to save the life of Yomi, who was quickly dying from chakra starvation.

He had learned the hard way the cost of keeping his own Yuumei starved of chakra for too long. He was now being more generous, liberally allowing her to feed on chakra and become stronger, nursing her back to health. He was still careful not to give her too much. While he loved and respected Yomi, he knew that she was gluttonous and greedy, and that feeding her too much would restore her to her old ways. She did not question this, and it seemed that, for now, she was sated with what he provided.

He found that the seal had incredible hidden depths of power. While he had certainly achieved greater speeds with the flashblade technique, never before had Kazuo wielded such an immense feeling of speed and chakra potency. Never before had he felt quite such a power as the one he wielded when he allowed the seal control. The transformation was unsettling and unbecoming of a true warrior, or at least so Kazuo believed, but the ghastly appearance that the curse mark granted was well worth the evolution of power it provided.

Still, he knew there was more too it. He knew that this curse, burned into his flesh, held depths of power the likes of which he had not yet witnessed. He could feel that it wanted to offer him more, wanted to pull him farther down into this rabbit hole and bring him to the darkest depths. He knew the terrible price he would pay if he did not pace himself. He needed to be sure that he could control it before he let the full power of this curse course through his very veins. He felt the seal beginning to spread as he pondered its nature like this. He knew it wanted to consume him, to kill him, if he was not careful. He let it spread, let it tarnish his features, but did not let it consume him. He held it back, just barely. Not out of desperation, but out of curiosity. He needed to make sure he could control it before he let it run wild.

As he did this, he prepared his breakfast, more broth and rationed food from the night before, though he fed himself much more liberally now, dumping much more substantial food into the pot. He would be returning down below the mountain for supplies, and he would need his strength to do so. Thus, he let himself eat his fill and be merry for awhile. He sat by the fire as the pot boiled, stewing the meat and vegetables within. Beside him was a bag of the belongings of Ren Tsubasa. Curiously, Kazuo unraveled it, searching its contents. The first thing he came across was… A stale croissant. What an interesting man Ren was.

He tossed it into the fire. He wasn’t about to eat something he just found in a bag, especially given the less than honorable habits sometimes adopted by their former leader. A few kunai, Kazuo counted fifteen in total. He’d give those to his soldiers. He had no use for them, after all. Five shuriken, he set those with the kunai. Two smoke bombs. Kazuo stared at them for a moment. Shrugging, he set them in the pile. A few explosive tags, which he set beside the kunai, and two pouches for weapons. He scooped them all into the pouches. Two lucky soldiers of Hitsuyo Aku would receive a care package, courtesy of their deceased leader.

The seal crawled down Kazuo’s neck once more, causing him to close his eyes in concentration, demanding it to recede once more. The seal felt cheated, as if Kazuo was merely playing games with it, but was powerless to resist. He was getting stronger. Better at controlling himself, his impulses, and his emotions.

A set of gloves that gave off a powerful radiation of chakra told Kazuo that this artifact was a precious one. He would give them to one of his men as well, having no need for them. He knew Ren wore these gloves while applying fuinjutsu techniques to the members of the group, he remembered this much. Perhaps Ryu would have use for them. He set the gloves, neatly folded, atop the pouches of weapons.

Two books awaited him now. The first was a medical journal of some sort, written by a man named Denkiteki. He set it at his side, he would flip through it later if he got bored, and then probably give it to one of the other shinobi. To be honest, there was not much here that Kazuo carried much interest in. It was the equipment of a shinobi, and while Kazuo studied ninjutsu, he had little to no interest in their arms and armor. The second book he found, How to be a Ninja: Volume 2, he threw into the fire for fuel. He had no interest in learning how to be a ninja… and besides, he had not read the first book, and he didn’t want spoilers.

Two jackets, one of substantially greater strength, that bore the mark of Kirigakure. He tossed them upon the fire as well. He would not have his soldiers bearing the colors of another army. That was dishonorable and disrespectful. Lastly, he came upon a scroll. Unsealing it, he found a preserved body within. This boy… He was a Hyuuga. He bore a headband of Kirigakure, and Kazuo was disgusted. He had been unsure of Ren Tsubasa’s intentions, but in that moment, his opinions of the man was solidified. Ren was no honorable warrior. He was a shinobi, deceitful and dishonorable, just like all the rest.

His anger began to manifest as the seal upon his neck began to spread once more, but Kazuo held it back. He wouldn’t let it consume him. Not yet. Now, he knew, he had work to do. He wrapped himself in his cloak and lifted the body.

What are you going to do with THAT? Came the singsong voice of Yomi. She was sitting on a log by the fire when she appeared to him. Kazuo looked up.
”I'm Bringing this poor soul back home.” He said stoically, suddenly disappearing in a flash of purple chakra.

(Exit to Amegakure via teleportation)

TWC: 1261

1261/3750 Words Towards Heaven Seal Stage 2 (25% discount max stats)

Approved