Meditations

Dawn finally broken through the rumbling veil of clouds on the horizon and honey-coloured rays warmed Yosei's skin. He was standing perfectly still atop the highest spire in the Academy, balanced perfectly on a narrow spike with one foot, the other lifted up high above his hip like a flamingo's. Though he was grateful to feel the tickle of sunshine, just for the confirmation of time's passage, he took great effort not to react in any way that might express that. The slightest smile, the faintest sigh of relief, or even a simple fluttering of the eyelids could throw off the precise balance that allowed him to remain still without putting conscious effort into it. He had been there since midnight, determined to complete a full twenty-four hours of utter stillness. As the wind blew, he subconsciously shifted his weight to adjust for it. When rain fall, he ignored it. Though he had mastered stillness of the body, stillness of the mind tended to elude him more, and a restless mind leads to a restless his body. His mind would linger to thoughts of friends, colleagues, superiors, even neighbours and other members of the village. This was happening much more lately as Yosei integrated into Kirigakure after his trip away, and it worried him greatly. Other people used to rarely, if ever, occupy his mind when they weren't around. Since returning home and taking up the role of a working ninja again, his interactions with the community had picked up a nasty habit of lingering in his thoughts long after they were finished.

Ms Mimori and her tea shop, his only home away from home. His family, the theatre, their money problems. Momochi Yamanaka, an individual he was dangerously close to beginning to consider a friend. The Mizukage, and how Yosei found himself yearning for his approval more than he had ever yearned for anyone else's. The criminal he had interrogated using mind games, and spared from a grisly fate. The helpless poacher he had chosen to execute instead of capturing. The impoverished people he had squeezed tax money out of. The rich people he had squeezed even more out of. Old Man Tendo, who had warned him of the humility of a shinobi's life. The official he had aided in assassinating. Those genin teenagers he had tried to take under his wing.

One of these thoughts had always wormed it's way into his head right before he got close to his goal. Not today. Today, his only thoughts would be of his training, to remind him of what must be done.

Down below, shuriken struck each other in mid-air as blows landed on wooden dummies. Students ran laps as teachers shouted encouragement. The drone of various lectures came from classroom windows. Yosei let it all blend together and fade away in his mind, but the gentle melodies of teacher and student existing in harmonious symbiosis anchored his daydreams in thoughts of his own teachers.

It was Matsukaze Kamigawa who had found him that day in the theatre. When a violent heckler tried to attack his mother and disrupted Yosei's performance, finding a hair-pin lodged in his throat as punishment. Matsukaze noticed (for even with her eyes covered in bandages all the time nothing seemed to evade her) that Yosei had thrown the improvised weapon with the instinct and accuracy of a shinobi throwing a senbon. On her advice, he attended the academy. But back then, he had no idea who she was. He knew her under the name Matsukaze Kiryu, and had no awareness of her identity as an ex-Hoshigakure missing ninja. She must have had some kind of connection in Kirigakure to move freely through the village, but whatever she did for the Island Country to earn such trust was never revealed to Yosei. An expert in Fuuinjutsu and Genjutsu, she had privately tutored Yosei - without regard for the Academy's rules on such things - in the art of crafting illusions and waging a war on your enemy's senses.

It was the same insight that noticed how he threw the hairpin that deduced from his movement style and frequent meditation that he could have an aptitude for the art of mastering Nature Chakra. Although, she might have come to that conclusion from the first time she saw Yosei. Perhaps from the second they met, she considered him as a potential student for -

Yosei's foot trembled, threatening to throw him off balance. He caught himself just in time. The sun was still leaking over the horizon at a molasses-like pace. Hardly any time had passed and yet it felt like something significant change had just occurred. Yosei never spent any time wondering before if Matsukaze had alterior motive in training Yosei. After all this time he still didn't know anything significant about who she is, or why she had chosen him. What exactly were her intentions in beginning his journey of achieving sage mode? And if she had plans, how did the other teachers fit into this?

WC: 837

As the day went on, the academy below grew busier as students filed in for later classes and early training sessions broke up to be replaced by fresh faces. The chatter of students conversing during the changeover all became meaningless noise to Yosei as he continued his stillness training, trying to keep his mind clear. The harder he tried however, the more his mind wandered to thoughts of his old teachers.

On a special dispensation that Matsukaze had somehow attained for him, Yosei was permitted to study abroad. He passed through the storm veil for the first time in his life at seventeen years old, and was brought to a far-off country bordering the Land of Fire. He was led by Matsukaze to a remote stretch of woods that was covered in dense fungi, something his upbringing on wet, stormy islands had not prepared him for. That land felt more alive, more inundated with living things than anywhere else he had ever been. Deep within the forest of mycelium dwelt Hoshima, under the great Mushroom Sage, with whom Yosei would train for a year. She lived in the shade of an enormous toadstool, a wore a wide-brimmed hat made of one. A chubby-cheeked, wizened old woman of petite stature who dressed in rags and went nowhere without her cane, Yosei took one look at her and was certain he had no interest in being her student. No one who looked like that could have anything to teach him, surely.Yet Matsukaze Sensei had turned and left, and Yosei was stuck with an old hermit in the wilderness, nothing to his name but the bedroll under his arm and some rations.

The first few days were the hardest. He probably could have handled everything but the smell, which was inescapable. Rafflesia flowers exuded the stench of rotten meat to attract flies and dense clouds of spores thickened the air, soaking up unwelcome aromas and giving them something to cling to. Every breath felt mildly toxic, and Yosei felt like he was waking up and going to sleep in one enormous toilet. When he tried to fashion nose plugs, Hoshima smacked them out of his nostrils.

"How can you expect to become one with nature when you're blocking it out purposefully?" She snorted derisively. "I thought you'd be bright enough at least to understand that."

That encounter aside, Hoshima was a kind and gentle master, her laid back attitude permeating the philosophy of her teachings. In general, she seemed to prefer sleeping until noon, eating her fill, and then squeezing in some sage advice before nightfall. Her words were wise, her advice practical, and her wealth of experience was without compare. Despite all this, Yosei couldn't stand her. Setting aside the fact that he couldn't bring himself to respect anyone who didn't bathe twice a day, it irked him to no end when she spoke as if he was a simpleton, taking on a glacial pace when explaining even the most basic of concepts. For that first week, she sent him on various "Missions" - most consisted of collecting food, whether it was grubs from under rocks, eggs from bird's nests or edible mushrooms. By the end of it, he was sure that he had nothing to learn here and that it was time to go home.

Hoshima's lessons began to make sense to him over time, however. Each night she would pick out the grubs and mushrooms that were inedible or poisonous, and point out the ones that tasted the best. Yosei starved himself for as long as he could, but eventually he gave in and began living off the land. Once he did, his basic missions became a little more complex. The good-tasting grubs were difficult to locate, whereas the kind that made him lose his lunch (of other grubs) seemed to pop up everywhere. Eggs were the closest thing to normalcy, but were the most difficult to find. He would watch the birds and learn their patterns in order to follow them to their nests. He followed the dense network of mycelial roots to track down the best mushrooms for the job.

After a few weeks of this, Yosei felt absolutely in tune with nature. At that point, Hoshima's slow pace didn't bother him anymore. It became clear that it wasn't any form of condescension, but in fact it was her way of doing everything. She never hurried anywhere, but always arrived on time.

Lessons on advanced water release jutsu promptly began, and Yosei's weak affinity for NInjutsu blossomed rapidly. Hoshima even showed him what she called "Chakra fishing", which utilized surface-walking technique and perfect stillness to stand on the surface of the water far out in the middle of the lake and sense the movement of fish before grabbing them. Though he didn't realize it at the time, Hoshima was both honing his sensory abilities and preparing him to learn how to absorb Nature chakra.

In the present, Yosei's eyes snapped open. All of his lessons had been disguised as something simple, and while he thought he had discerned the true purpose behind them, what if that purpose was in itself also a misdirect? What were they trying to shape him into? It was possible that the answers lay in Hoshima and Matsukaze's shared past, of which Yosei knew little.

The glare of the sun was strong now, and from the angle that it fell on his face Yosei could tell it was past noon. Dawn felt like mere minutes ago. The lunch bell rang below and students dashed out the doors to enjoy their recreation, filling the air with a noisy hubbub. It seemed as though these thoughts were keeping his mind occupied and helping him achieve his goal. Settling his mindspace again he pushed all distractions away and delved deeper into memories of his training.

WC: 978
TWC: 1825

Some long, thin white stalks began to sprout from Yosei's left eye, and he felt the sharp slap of Hoshima's cane on the back of his head.
"Careful," Hoshima chuckled. "We have enough mushrooms around here already."
Yosei winced and recentered himself. Focused once more on remaining still without being taken over by nature energy. How much longer would he have to sit in this swamp, glistening with sweat, with no company save for the lazy old woman who was supposedly training him. The only thing she seemed to be training was her batting arm with that cane. A few more hours passed before Yosei was snapped out of his trance. Before he had time to process anything, his eyes were open and he was hurtling through the brush of the mushroom forest. He landed, filthy with mud and scratched by thorns in a muddy ditch, Hoshima's hand gripping the scruff of his kimono tightly.
"Sensei, what-" Yosei began before a small bony hand clapped over his lips. Hoshima looked different than Yosei had ever seen her before. Her eyes were sharper, more alive, and she had moved with the agility of someone a third her age. There were dark green rings around her eyes, and the mushroom cap she wore as a hat was sprinkling spores over her shoulders as if it was alive. The expression on her face told Yosei to stay quiet.
For a few seconds the forest was perfectly still. Yosei finally noticed what must have prompted Hoshima to pull him over in this direction. Things were too still. No birds chirped, no toads croaked, no crickets sang. What was coming?
"Stay here," Hoshima hissed at a barely audible level. Then, in a flash, she was gone.
Yosei swallowed hard. He felt something coming. Calming himself, he tried to employ the skills he had learned through foraging and chakra fishing. Reaching out with his senses, he was able to react just in time as an enormous mass crashed down on his hiding spot. Fast as the wind, he leaped out into the clearing of Hoshima's camp, feet skidding in the mud as they looked for purchase with the ground.
In the ditch he had just been crouching in stood a tall, dark man, smeared in a black substance. He was bald, with all white eyes, veins bulging on his face and neck. He didn't seem to be clothed, but under the filth that covered him Yosei saw strange markings. The man - or creature - breathed heavily and locked eyes with Yosei. The young student reached for the blades at his belt - but he didn't. His brain sent messages to his arms, but they didn't move. His body was frozen still as if electrocuted. The entity before him stretched it's lips into a half-smile, half-snarl. He could see in the empty eyes that this thing could rend Yosei into pieces in the blink of an eye. So he kept his eyes open, but still couldn't bring himself to move. He sensed something in the beast, a presence far beyond the natural or human.
A drop of water slipped off of a leaf and fell toward the pond below. The man-thing launched himself at Yosei, and the young ninja could do nothing but accept his death. There was a flash of steel, and Hoshima was standing between the two, the creature severed in twain. Hoshima was holding some kind of sickle that hummed with energy in the blade. The creature was in two pieces, sliced apart from right shoulder across the chest, leaving one arm on each half. Even in this state, whatever that being was continued to thrash, biting at the mushroom sage and clawing for her. She exhaled a cloud of spores onto the beast and jumped back, making a hand sign. The living corpse erupted with fungal growth that burst out of it's orifices and both holes made when cut apart. The stalks of mushrooms soared up, forming a thick pillar of mycelium that imprisoned both pieces of the body.
Hoshima turned to look at Yosei. The sickle vanished in a puff of smoke, she gave him a weak thumbs up, and collapsed on the ground.

Yosei's eyes slowly opened in the present. At this point, the sun was lower in the sky than before. He estimated that it was around 5pm. Classes at the academy had ended, some extracurricular activities and training was still going on down below.
That was a memory he didn't like to revisit too often. He never got clear answers from Hoshima on what that thing was. She told him only that things like that were the reason she was in this forest, to watch over them. A week later, Matsukaze had shown up to bring Yosei home.
What was strange was that Yosei only considered the markings he'd seen on the body for the first time when thinking back on it now. The marks beneath that black substance were the half-visible sigils of a sealing jutsu. Matsukaze was a Fuuinjutsu specialist, and she had shown up at the woods as soon as physically possible. They said it was to bring Yosei home, but even that seemed like a rushed development. Possibly even a cover up.
Now that he was a little bit more seasoned as a ninja, Yosei could theorize on what he had encountered that day. It seemed like a human being with some kind of creature sealed within him, like a Jinchuuriki. But to corrupt his body even more than a Bijuu would, whatever was sealed in him must have been otherworldly and horrific.
He resolved to continue meditating upon his past without shame, regret or any emotion in the hopes that he could come to more conclusions when his eyes were unclouded.

WC: 967

A burnt amber light filled the sky as the Sun spilled over the horizon, trickling away into night. The dusk air was beginning to have a bite of cold to it, stinging Yosei's cheeks as he maintained his balance atop the academy spire. As he meditated on the past, an elusive face that had been darting in and out of memories like a ghost came to the fore. Messy brown hair, rosy cheeks, an indomitable grin. Yosei's only real friend his age. Hanataro was always dragging Yosei off somewhere to test their skills against each other, or see something wonderful he had found, or go on some adventure. During the academy years, Yosei always acted reluctant towards Hanataro's schemes and antics, but the boy was never dissuaded. He had an innate sense for what people needed and when his mischief was appreciated, even if it was only deep down. When everyone else left a few empty seats between them and Yosei, Hanataro was the type to march right up to the weird quiet kid, punch his arm and ask him how he was. Remarkably, Yosei never returned any signs of friendship and in fact did everything he could to dissuade the friendship from happening. This was to no avail. By the time they were graduating, there was a mutul fondness between the two.
Hanataro had little talent as a ninja. He could grasp most Taijutsu but his Ninjutsu and Genjutsu were lacking. He was good with ninja tools and had a penchant for setting traps, which was usually how he would complete missions or succeed in sparring matches. But overall, he left a lot to be desired as a shinobi. And it showed, especially on that one night...

In the present, the night sky was dark. The full moon illuminating the campus. Yosei was falling. Night air rushing past his face. He shouldn't have thought of Hanataro. He felt as if time was slowing. In mid-air, he remembered.

"Breathe, Hanataro, stay calm and -"
"Yosei, step back. Renji report back to the village."
"But sensei -"
"Go. Now. Yosei, come over here."
"Sensei he's losing blood, can't you -"
"It's too late for that. There's only one thing to do now."

Yosei was pulled back by his collar as Matsukaze dumped him on the ground behind her. Hanataro was laying on his back, eyes wide open and cast up to the sky, a deep red gorge stretching from left collarbone to his right waist.If the wound had been any deeper, he would be in two pieces. He coughed up a river of crimson and Matsukaze tilted his head so he wouldn't choke on it. Her hands began to glow pale green as her mystical healing palm closed the wound somewhat and congealed the blood to stem the flow. Then, he hands began to glow purple in a way that Yosei had never seen before. With one, she plunged it into his chest, seemingly passing right through it. With the other, she cast a sealing jutsu on his undamaged flesh.
Yosei crawled around her, over to Hanataro.
"Matsukaze Sensei is going to save you, Hanataro, you'll see. Just stay calm."
"Yosei..."
Hanataro turned his head towards his friend and smiled. Against all odds, he smiled.
"Become a great shinobi, Yosei. You always were the talented one. And thank you... Thank you for letting me be your friend."
"Hanataro..." Yosei began, too devastated by his friend's words to construct a response.
Matsukaze's hand pulled sharply out of Hanataro's chest and the boy's entire body convulsed as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Yosei screamed, but Matsukaze completed the sealing jutsu, sending black inscriptions wrapping around the Genin's body. Then she stood and wove handsigns for a jutsu that caused the bandages wrapped around her hands to suddenly unwind themselves, revealing their true nature as some kind of sealing cloth. They wound around Hanataro, mummifying him. Matsukaze picked up the body.
"Yosei. Catch up with Renji at the village. Go now, inform them of the status of the mission."
"Where are you going? What about him?"
"I'm going to do what I can. I don't know if - Just trust me. This is his best shot, Yosei."
Yosei stood up, then froze. His legs planted, refusing to leave.
"I want to go with you."
"You're slowing me down." Matsukaze snapped. "If you care for your friend, go."
His limbs were numb, unwilling to listen.
"GO! THAT'S AN ORDER!"
The shock of it snapped Yosei back to reality. In an instant, he found himself darting through trees back to the village, tears streaming down his face, Hanataro's last words ringing in his ears, Matsukaze and her mysterious ritual behind him.

The branches flying past his face became the sting of the cold air rushing past him. Yosei extended his fans and used Wind release to send a blast of air downward, propelling him and giving him just enough elevation to land safely. He looked up at the moon. Twenty-three hours of perfect stillness this time. He hadn't quite achieved his goal yet.
"Hanataro. It was you who allowed me to be your friend. Thank you."
He stretched all of the lethargy out of his limbs. It was time to find Matsukaze. Time to get answers.

WC: 879
TWC: 3671

[Exit.]

[CLAIMS:
3671 x 2 = 7342 Words
1500 for second mastery of Hidden Mist technique, removing all hand signs.
5000 for two masteries of Bringer of Darkness, removing all hand signs.
842 words towards the 1500 for Lord Zeami, B-rank summon pending approval.]

Approved!