Wealth in Many Forms

Having finished his meal with his family, Koutaku had retreated to their fenced-off yard. It was an ornate place that the whole family helped to maintain. Something of a zen garden, Koutaku sometimes retreated there to think, and this time was no exception. Taking deep breaths, the young shinobi focused on the things he’d learned in the last couple of days, and it brought a smile to his face to know how far he’d come.

Intriguingly, as he looked back upon his interactions with his family, he noticed that gradually their behavior towards him had seemed to change. There was more respect now than there had been prior. Before home had mostly been a place of either judgment or understanding, but now that understanding felt more…mutual somehow. It was subtle though, perhaps he was just imagining things. Besides, how could they know, it wasn’t as if they could read minds, nor were they watching him every moment of every day. Considering what may have shifted he realized that perhaps what they were picking up on wasn’t logical, but rather intuitive, what if they had noticed changes in him. His bearing perhaps, or how he spoke. After all, he hadn’t trained with any member of his family for two weeks or more if he was counting correctly.

Ultimately, Koutaku decided, it didn’t matter. He had improved in leaps and bounds and now it was only a matter of time till he struck a singularity. He could feel it. With that in the back of his mind, Koutaku opened his eyes and surveyed the carefully cultivated plants of their garden, the curving path that wound through it, and the pristine pool with precisely three koi fish swimming in it—one black, one white, and the last a drab gray. His clan’s philosophy—even having grown up with it—was so strange sometimes.

They held, of all colors, gray to be sacred, citing that it was a pure combination of yin and yang. To the Iouchiryo it represented the endless variety in the world. The myriad ways that the foundational energies intermingled to create existence and facilitate all other forms of being. The ideas themselves, well those he found to be rather beautiful, but the imagery…well, that could use some work.

Standing up, the young man stretched, let out a yawn, and then patted his full tummy before turning around only to find that his mother was standing at the back entrance smiling at him. His eyes narrowed, but he kept his smile, its tilt becoming sly.

Neither Iouchiryo spoke for a long moment as they held eachother’s gaze, until finally, his mother broke the silence. “You seem like you’re in a good mood,” she said with the subtlest amount of smugness in her voice, as if overjoyed that she’d caught him with his guard down. Koutaku, still smiling, didn’t reply for a moment except to tilt his head. “Sure, why not, it’s a beautiful day and I’ve just had some of the best cooking in the village,” he said with a smirk, deliberately relaxing, his breathing leveling out.

He could never tell if members of his family were simply being cordial or testing him in some way. Honestly, he had a theory that they deliberately made it ambiguous to mess with him. Regardless, he noticed as his mother nodded slightly, seeming to appreciate the compliment and his effort to redirect attention. Nonetheless, she didn’t relent, though her smile did wane as she became somewhat more serious, before directly addressing what had apparently been on her mind.

“You’ve broken through,” Irori said rather plainly as she locked eyes with her son. Koutaku’s smile flickered a moment and he didn’t respond with words, nodding solemnly instead.

“We’re proud of you,” Irori said, and now she smiled.

Inhaling sharply, Koutaku was rooted to the spot by shock, though it didn’t show on his features. After a moment of silence, his mom simply chuckled, turned, and then walked from the room. “Go on now,” she said knowingly, and as if given permission, Koutaku bolted, jumping onto the roof in a flash before using the ram seal to initiate a long-range Body Flicker to get away. Still, as he fled, there was only a wide smile on his features and he found that he had quite some trouble wiping it off for some time.

Eventually, though, he got it in his mind that he was going to visit Travin, despite the stressful training he’d endured in order to inoculate himself somewhat to the cursed art of genjutsu. Shuddering, Koutaku combed the village, listening for information and using his well-honed senses to locate the man. Finally, after perhaps twenty or so minutes of searching, he detected the man’s chakra signature coming from a rather auspicious looking home. Rather, he ought to call it a mansion. Swallowing hard, Koutaku steeled his nerves with a deep breath, called upon the warmth his family had bestowed onto him, and then promptly hopped the giant metal fence.

Approaching at a leisurely pace, Koutaku decided not to sneak in—as entertaining as it might be—and instead approached the front door of the massive estate. In the process, he had to circumvent a large ornate series of circular hedges nested in one another to create a rather transfixing pattern.

'How strange,’ he mused even as he observed the building’s architecture, having moved on from the well-groomed greenery. Clearly, the Rentei family were exceptionally wealthy to afford such an estate, let alone the land it was built on. Then again, his own family downplayed their wealth considerably, which was quite easy when you were in with those above even the kage. Hell, even with the Council gone due to the upheaval with the last kage, his family had maintained their foothold despite the drastic change in leadership and furthermore had continued to thrive under the rule of both the Daimyo and Kizmaru Senju.

Still, all of that was really not that important in the moment so Koutaku shelved those more…political thoughts and approached the door. As he stood before that great threshold he took a deep breath and then knocked, wondering if a servant or Train himself would answer the door.

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Simply waiting at the door for a time it didn’t take long until—

Jolted back into motion, Koutaku took a step forwards, before his mind registered the sudden shift in location from where he’d thought he was. Moments after his memories reconciled themselves with his situation and then his mind came to a snap conclusion as he realized he’d been in a genjutsu from the moment he set foot near the bushes.

A small part of him, the part that hadn’t broken into a cold sweat and had shaking hands, marveled at how brilliant a defense that was and how flawlessly it had been integrated into the decor of the grounds. The rest of him, meanwhile, had entered what could only be called a fight, flight, or freeze response and was trying to process not only that he’d been caught in a genjutsu, but that he’d then been surrounded and so also been caught not just on the back foot, but straight up knocked on his metaphorical ass.

Two of his greatest fears, his most disliked states of being, superimposed on one another, and so it wasn’t until after perhaps a whole minute of ‘Master Bruce,’ watching him—likely with a patient eye he did not deserve—that Koutaku finally managed to move, and then a few seconds longer as he tried to speak, with only air coming out.

Swallowing hard, Koutaku took a deep breath or eight, and only after that point could he nod his recognition of the butler and speak up. “I…I’d love a tall glass of water. Cold if it’s…if it’s not any trouble,” his voice was quiet, and there was a distinctly haunted look in his eyes as he deliberately avoided meeting Bruce’s gaze.

Internally, now that the shock had begun to wear off, Koutaku was only unbelievably embarrassed and ever-so-slightly angry…at himself.

Gritting his teeth, Koutaku took another breath, exhaling from his nose sharply, before giving Bruce another nod and then following Travin. This time, he had no interest in the architecture or the beauty of the place, his curiosity for such things had been promptly shut down by his…harrowing experience. No, instead part of him was turned inwards…remembering.

He hated even to think of the day he’d met the elder. It had been the one time that his family unit had submitted to the greater will of the clan in a way that did not suit them. At least, that’s what he’d learned later.

One of the clan’s elders had visited them and they’d been his humble hosts. He was an honored guest, but he wasn’t there for leisure, no he’d been there to evaluate an asset, to evaluate his kin.

To judge Koutaku.

Realizing he’d been quiet too long, Koutaku made an effort to wrest himself from the images rushing through his head, the memories, those terrible recollections, and instead spoke up.

“I…have no excuse for disturbing your peace,” he said formally, resignation and even a note of shame, “…but I am sorry.” The last words he said quietly, his eyes downcast even as his mind tried to pull upon any thread of hope, anything that he could perhaps use to redeem himself. A technique flashed across his mind and his eyes lit up for a moment, but he hid the expression, knowing it wasn’t really appropriate after having barged into someone’s home and set off all kinds of alarm. Given the jounin’s garb—and what he’d said—Koutaku had pulled him from a rather relaxing time in the pool.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek a moment before speaking up. “I came because you mentioned that you were a weapon specialist and you said you’d be glad to work with me again. I thought I’d stop by and take you up on that. However, I have made quite a fool of myself so…well.” He paused, considering that Travin had offered him food or a drink, and had even told his men that he was a guest.

“Honestly…I’m surprised you’re being so nonchalant about what happened just now,” this time as he spoke, Koutaku’s words were more forward, less downtrodden, though there was a note of curiosity as well. “You could have simply turned me away, but you didn’t. Why?”

Spoiler:

Blinking as they stepped out of the manor, Koutaku glanced around a moment, taking in the sights and sizing up his environment, before he located a chair and sat down. When Bruce approached him, the young man nodded his head respectfully, hid his confusion, and thanked the man before taking a short pull from the glass, the water traveling down his throat and sending shivers up his spine. Afterward he held the glass out at a slight distance from himself and gave it an appreciative look before setting it down on a table beside the chair he’d chosen. Leaning forwards and steepling his hands in his lap, Koutaku listened closely to Travin’s words and indeed he did feel the tension in him ease.

Still, being a source of...amusement for the compound was, well, he had mixed feelings about it to say the least. Nonetheless, he pressed on, responding to the older shinobi’s query.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to...test the waters in regards to something I’ve been working on. However, before that I wanted to thank you for teaching me with...well, a gift of sorts.” Koutaku smiled, and now with his composure returned--despite the strange environs he now found himself in--he seemed far more comfortable, far more, well, himself.

“My, er…I have a technique that might interest you,” oddly, before he’d mentioned his clan, Koutaku made a point to cut himself off, leaving it ambiguous as to the origins of his jutsu. After all, the Iouchiryo were rather secretive, though not about their techniques themselves. It was more their existence they kept under wraps. For all Travin knew, Koutaku--and any other shinobi with the same surname--were just distantly related cousins who happened to take up the shinobi arts.

Sitting back somewhat, Koutaku took another sip of his drink and waited to see what Travin said, a smile remaining on his lips and glimmering in his piercing blue gaze.

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“It is,” he said briefly astonished at the price. He glanced down at the water again and shrugged slightly. He didn’t seem bothered by Travin’s mention of the price, in fact, he seemed oddly unphased for someone who obviously hadn’t thought to even ring a doorbell—if he even thought they existed. Nonetheless, life moves on, and thus so must we. Taking things in stride, Koutaku couldn’t help but grin as Travin—in swift order—had Bruce notify others to ready the training area for them.

‘He’s curious,’ Koutaku thought, somewhat amused, but rather than think it, the next part he said aloud.

“I like it when people are curious,” it was an idle thought, but he still made it known before shrugging at Travin’s offer. He’d done a little research on various alcoholic beverages but he’d never much enjoyed how they dulled his senses and clogged his mind. “I’m flattered,” he said with a rueful smirk, “but I’m really not a drinker. I’ve tried various spirits before, but they just. Hmm, how should I put this,” Koutaku tapped his chin thoughtfully and intently had a sudden realization.

He felt completely at ease around Travin, despite the fact that the man could easily choose to use a genjutsu on him and then immediately end his life. Despite the fact that Koutaku typically had at least some trouble with social situations. Why was that exactly?

He frowned slightly, but the expression melted away and he smiled, snapping his fingers as the thought came to him. “Drinking, for me, is like blurring everything slightly. I can still function, but everything is fuzzy, my thoughts less pristine. I don’t much enjoy the experience.”

While another might offer up an alternative to alcohol or at least suggest something less rich, Koutaku simply…didn’t. It was hard to say if it was a lack of desire for any manner of mind-altering substance or just a total absence of the knowledge that most others had when it came to social niceties. Either way, it was what it was.

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"To each their own," he replied, before hearing out Travin's idea. At the mention of books, Koutaku's eyes lit up, and so it was that he responded with obvious eagerness. "That sounds ideal to me!" Thus Travin lead and he followed. Now thoroughly engaged, and comfortable, the young man couldn't help but notice a few things. The opulence of the building's trappings, and the relative youth of the jounin before him. There was no way they were that far apart in age, and yet the disparity in their expertise was significant. Smiling quietly to himself, Koutaku resolved to swiftly close the gap.

Treading on the two eventually reached the library and as they did, Koutaku's gaze turned, as did his body, as he marveled at the truly vast collection with an almost zealous eye. Aside from a personal training area of his own, this was perhaps the closest thing to paradise for him. "It's an incredible library," he said almost breathlessly, before turning back to Travin, where he saw the Rentei crest--recognizing it immediately. Slowly, almost reverently, following in Travin's footsteps, Koutaku approached the shelves housing tomes on various techniques. His eyes scanned through titles, and almost immediately he picked out some for weaponry, ninjutsu, and bukijutsu. He even saw one for genjutsu, and despite his loathing for the art, he pulled several of those down as well. He did so deftly, and gently, but swiftly...with wire. Rather than climb, he simply slung a fair number of loops and manipulated them so they hooked each book, cradling them before he pulled them from their respective shelves at different intervals.

So, in short order, he caught one, two, three, five, and then six. Only slightly encumbered, he made his way to a table that sat some ways back from the stained glass and set down his first haul of books. Smiling broadly, his eyes shining with greed--an avarice for knowledge rather than money--Koutaku sat down and began to turn the pages of each book at a startling pace, switching between them deliberately, rather than read one at a time. He wanted the information to intermingle in his mind.

Retrieving a book from thin air as he simultaneously turned a page, Koutaku set it down to one side of his set up, and occasionally he'd write something down. It was all in an arcane, impossible to decipher notation so it was unclear if he was writing down techniques, principles, simple things to keep in mind, or absolutely meaningless gobbledygook.

Not looking up, Koutaku addressed Travin.

"This is honestly incredible. My family has something of a collection, but nothing nearly this size as far as I can tell. Granted...our relatives are another story entirely." Biting his lip, and glancing about, the young man returned his gaze to the books and then froze in place. Setting them down he pushed up from his seat and locked gazes with the Rentei heir. For a long moment he tried to size the man up, considering his generosity, every word he'd spoken up until now, and the way he hadn't questioned Koutaku's earlier mistake.

Even the way he'd looked at him a few minutes before when he'd yet to suggest the library. All in all, Travin Rentei seemed to be a trustworthy sort, and on top of that, he was a valuable ally, not to mention exceptionally well placed and equipped. His expression serious, Koutaku made a decision and withdrew a tiny piece of paper from the very back of his notebook. On it, he wrote in that selfsame notation. While Travin wouldn't be able to read it, this is what it said.

"Mother, I'm going to tell Travin Rentei."

A moment later words in that same code rapidly faded onto the page as if coming into view from far away all at once.

"That would be the Heir. Hmm, are you sure you can trust him?"

Koutaku glanced up at Travin, then wrote back.

"Yes."

There was a long pause, then the words Turn the Page faded onto the paper in bold. Koutaku complied. On the next page an incredibly complex seal was rapidly fading into existence, spreading outwards. It filled almost the entirety of two pages. Below it were the words 'By the will of the ever-blooming black lotus...'

Nodding, Koutaku wrote in the rest of the phrase, '...we bud and branch and give.

The words swiftly faded from the page, as did the prior conversation until all that remained was the seal. Koutaku raised his head and met Travin's eyes.

"This is the seal of the Iouchiryo," Koutaku explained, "...it's a sort of binding mechanism that ensures the secrecy of our clan. Sometimes, when we deem another trustworthy, we can vouch for them, and in return for both the outsider--in this case yourself--and the patron, me, signing it with our chakra I can give you access to any Iouchiryo technique without reproach. The only catch is the seal makes it impossible for you to teach some of them to others. Notably, the seal is active right now. If I explain it improperly and we sign, it will reject the contract entirely and the repercussions will fall on me...." He trailed off, giving Travin a significant look before taking a deep breath, bracing himself.

"If you need to use a genjutsu on me, you know, to trawl my mind and prove to yourself that I'm not lying, I'll allow it." He didn't feel that he needed to explain how important that admission was, given his fear. Travin would know. If he chose to go down that path, Koutaku would understand, but it would sting....

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