A large man, with a void in his heart

Under the pallid light of a waning moon strode Yama Kokoro, a mountain of a man whose presence seemed to command awe and reverence. Yet it was no journey of pomp and splendor that brought him, but rather a sad mission. A duty not of friendship or alliance but of the unspoken bond that joined all shinobi, a testament to the silent code that dictated both their lives and, sadly, often their deaths. His burden was significant but simple: the body of a fallen brother-in-arms whom he had never met but had been ripped from life out of the purest cruelty of the hands of rogues was to be returned to his village.

The journey was an odyssey in silence, not the camaraderie of memories shared, but the heavy, dominating weight of duty pressing down on Yama's broad shoulders. The land flowed around him like a tapestry painted in myriad shades of dusk, and every footfall was a reminder of the tenuous string that held the ninja's life together, the horror of the alternative. Mere moments away from his destination, Yama's figure stood out against the landscape: at his feet, the fallen ninja, his comrade in death, cradled in his arms, and around him, the world seemed to pause, taking a breath to honor the sacrifice that sanctified their path.

As he arrived at yet another bastion of his craft, tucked into the crook of the hills surrounding it, Yama was a harbinger of nothing more than sorrow and reverence. The task awaiting him was delicate, the shadow of tradition and loss hanging heavily from it. The family of the fallen, their faces stretched taut with anticipation and fear, waited for the giant to approach, their eyes scanning his for signs of their kin's fate.

The shinobi delivered the deathly message with his heart as heavy as a stone; his words mingled with a sad echo among the village trees. The wish to bid their loved one farewell was denied gently yet insistently, for it was a measure of necessity disguised in the mantle of duty and the common good. Before the family, Yama explained, the village had to examine the body for anything unknown. As their struggles had no end, the first step was paramount. The world afterward, he continued, would explore and honor the organs. The body from which all returned to grow anew was honored in a mutual show of honor and respect. And lastly, the clone, Yama uttered, was in the process of being prepared – it is an offering to help the friends and family members of a fallen shinobi. The news was unpalatable: the news was a chalice of sorrow. It was one that the family drank in understanding and sorrow.

The one of hope, of a shadow of their loved one, was the coldest and most challenging to accept—the one they were doomed to receive. A stranger but a legacy keeper, Yama also stood as a ghost of that man in their presence. The burial itself was a game of shadows and whispers. Under the cover of the evening, the souls of the village and Yama gathered in unison with the proceedings. A weaver of illusions and perceptions of goodbyes carried me. Yama's position was odd – between a watchman and a mourner. The clone was laid to rest; his form would be acquainted with silence all his life, an echo with his origin, and an image with his rememberers.

The rite concluded, and Yama's vigil remained unbroken, a ward between it and the sorrow that pulled cerulean oni into the embrace of oblivion. The remaining clone held a directive, and with every step others neared, it was its job to remain vigilant, never letting them get too close. Protecting the sanctity of the moment, the brief illusion began to dissolve, offering shadows a death toll once more. The ceremony ended, and Yama was a giant set to serve the most trivial gestures, an entombment's age-old tradition rooted in the unending dance between life and death. Flitting whispers of solace danced from Yamamoto, and within his chest, resolve flared in smoke that knew no pyre.

He would not honor the fallen through words. Remembering the dead came from their deeds, an oath twisted and unvoiced aloud, a code all who danced in the ebon waltz of fate knew to be eternally binding. Goodbyes and farewells were whispered amongst the living as the ceremony ended, the young captain slipping his hands into the blackened mist that wrapped like a shroud around him. Yamamoto moved beneath his mask, boots resounding soft against the earth inflated by the fever-kissed heat of the day. The shade awaited only one more set of murmurs, and then it would pass through the veil, forever a figure whose name was unknown to history. And yet, its legacy was known to them all.

He would vanish from the area, slipping away from the gatherings. He wasn't used to such events. They were something that he had avoided for so long, one of the benefits of living alone for so long. But indeed, his heart was still weighed down by thoughts of Akaime. He had run so prematurely that he hadn't even said goodbye to him. But how could he? He wasn't worth his love anyway. There was just so little that he could provide him, and he was already so perfect. What chance would he have with such a man?

He navigated through the forest's foliage on the island, seeking a place to rest his head for the rest of the night. He passed a handful of trees that gathered directly beside the riran across the landscape; he thought for a few moments and decided that this was where he would lay his head for the night. He could barely sleep, his body would ache for his warmth, and he would yearn for his voice how he wanted nothing more than for him to breathe down his neck just one more time.

He pushed the thoughts to the side for the moment, just long enough for him to fall asleep.

In a flurry of colors, the first light of dawn revealed itself as the sun's delicate caresses painted the sky with shades of orange, pink, and gold. By the riverside, Yama began to stir. The tranquility, introspection, and harmony with the isolation of nature had recharged his spirit and sculpted him anew, ready to embark on his next journey. Rising from the side of the river like a titan, Yama had no idea that the wheels of his fate had already been set in motion. The peace and harmony of the morning were torn asunder by hurried footsteps and wheezing gasps.

Yama turned his head to find a man running in fear, his body language manifesting a sense of urgency and haste that only a man fighting to stay alive could display. The man's name was Jamil Proctor, a legendary architect of the realm known for his clever constructions and ruthless greed. When he finally caught up to Yama, the architect desperately fell to his knees and cried human tears. "Help me, I beg of you!" His savior appeared to be the only person he could plead for proximity.

But his cries were answered by a pack of bandits at the gates. Emerging from the treeline to advance, the savage beasts turned people, bearing witness to evil. Jutting him before Jamil, Yama became a relentless bulwark against the tide. His fierce reputation went beyond being the most prominent guest man. It was the kind of heart-pounding fire in his chest that inspired terrified souls he stood before to seek refuge behind him.

Yet, undeterred by the sight of the man they identified as Yama, the bandits launched their assault, a menagerie of raw aggression and desperate greed. The bandits had not anticipated the skill and ferocity of the giant of a man they had attacked. Each movement Yama made had been a testament to his training in the unwavering spirit of a shinobi. The battle was short, the bandits falling to Yama's nearly monstrous form with a precision belied by his size, a dance of power and grace that left the assailants' bodies defeated and scattered. With a sense of fear and awe, Jamil knew this man had delivered him, and he would be his protector. Immediate danger vanished, Jamil arrogantly described his position to the resident shinobi, his usual bravado and arrogance announcing his noble upbringing.

He had been traveling across and outside the country to oversee the latest grand designs, but he had been plagued by bandits and criminal architects seeking to steal their grand designs. Yama could feel the weight of his new duty. The shinobi were well informed of the importance of the noble's skills in spreading the lands' prosperity. His mission was clear: escort Jamil proctor to his destination and ensure nothing stood between the visionary noble's skills and the people's prosperity. It would be a dangerous journey filled with the looming shadows of envy and greed. However, Yama proceeded with the nobleman, determined to fulfill his mission and take the noble where he needed to go. Together, they would face physical threats and the rock and jest of the architect nobleman provocations.

As they returned and arrived at the project site, with the volatile aura in the periphery, Jamil, made vivid by seeing his creation, handed Yama a small scroll. More than just a souvenir of paper, the scroll also contained the payment, the gratitude for the protection, and the mark of life to signify the successful swath of commotion life had thrown at the duo. Yama took the scroll gently, knowing what it meant for a mission board, and nodded at Jamil. He had fulfilled his contract.

The trek was over, yet the experiences, challenges, and comrades who he had developed between the tumult remained a reminder; a curse, a blessing, the duty of the protection could be complex sometimes. Looking back at the structure, as Jamil designed further, Yama would slink away from the situation, wishing to be free from the man's presence.

He didn't concern himself much with the desires of others; they tended to turn into friendships or, in some cases, uses even more. He couldn't bear the idea of being so close to someone. No matter how much he wanted to be. But his mind would still be constantly thinking about the time within the caravan, within the pool of blood that he found himself standing in. He thought of just how confident he was when he entered, how Akaime was nothing more than another who had a bit too much of a head on his shoulders, confident and arrogant.

But it was when he would speak to him that Yama couldn't seem to find his footing. There was just a certain way that he said t it prevented him from breathing correctly. If he didn't know any better, and to be honest, he didn't. He believed that the man was a witch of sorts. Someone who would practice magical arts to weave his spell on others. That was the only way he could explain away the fact that he had become obsessed with the man so quickly. Something trulyt had happened within him that was triggered by this god among men.

The morning sun rose over the village, casting its gentle light on the bustling streets and awakening the community to another day of life and labor. Among the familiar structures stood a restaurant, a beloved local eatery that had served as a gathering place for countless meals and memories. Today, it stood on the brink of transformation, its owner embarking on a journey of renovation and renewal, a project aimed at breathing new life into the venerable establishment.

Thus far, Yahashad has been able to navigate through the perils and challenges that the island of Mohashad has been able to throw at him. He had soon found himself at the business end of yet another quest. It was a mission of a different sort; it was still essential to the land of the Moon. His towering presence and indomitable spirit made him a valuable asset to a specific restaurant's owner, who had flagged him down as he wandered through Moon's wildsMoon. The establishment was a tawas stuck out in the middle of the woods, just along one of the pathways that brought people out of the main settlements and into the ruins to the island's southern side.

They spoke to Yama about needing his help for makers around the villa. He was still determining how he could provide the ow with any service regarding his projects. Still, he wasn't one to deny a man when he needed some help, so he decided to aid the man in any way possible—the letter goes to describe just what he was required for in this job.

He would describe several joints of the frame that needed to be corrected, which would take significant strength as it entered, lifting an entire part of the ceiling. The owner figured that Yama would work well for this type of job. Yama would bow his head, and he began doing the work asked of him. He found the part of the ceiling that was drooping ever so slightly, and he found some blocks that would help him disperse his point of contact to make sure he didn't just punch through the ceiling itself.

When he found the wood to do the job, he put a brace together with some of the materials the owner had lying around. When he was done, he formed it and lifted it to the ceiling. He could feel the ceiling itself begin to lift slightly, and this is when he would reach for the sta, connecting it to the ground while he worked. When he positioned the sta, and the brace was set in place, he heard the owner begin to yell for help.

Yama ran out of the building and saw a band of bandits beginning to surround the house, threatening the owner's life if he reopened his business. Reply shook his head, partially in disbelief that these fools would spend their time worrying about small things like a man merely trying to run a business. The owner would ask Yama for help, and he would raise his hand to the man as if trying to quiet him. He looked at the mere harassing him and spoke out to them.

He would ask for them allust leave, lest there be consequences and most of the men leaving crippld if they left. But the men would laugh at Yama. They would mock him for his diplomatic rote and begin tormenting him. The men surrounded Yama, and he began to laugh menacingly. His laughs would go from a chuckle to a ludicrous cackle as he stared at the men surrounding him. He would open the gate of opening and send his right hand directly through the first man's chest cavity.

The bandits' laughing would turn to screams as they saw their once partner, now with a giant hole in his chest. They began to run, screaming for their lives, but Yama was far too quick for any of them to get away. He went from one to the next, seamlessly causing carnage and havoc to all, threatening the man's restaurant, and carving into the bandits' numbers until none left. He threw the pieces aside as he ripped the last one in half, breathing heavily, partially in excitement and anger.

The bandits were dealt with, and he would wipe the blood off of his hands, realizing that he was covered in it from head to toe now. He gathered the bodies of the bandits and began to pile them up. He looked over to his own, and he apologized for the mess. The owner seemed terrified of what he had just seen and immediately ran away from Yama. Yama understood and didn't chase him down or call after him. Ly let him go, knowing there was nothing to say that would calm him down.

He decided he was given a job to do, so he might as well finish it. He wiped off the rest of the blood from his hands and returned to the building, where he would continue his work. He saw that the brace was still in place, and he began to place new wood in the areas to try and repair the roof that was starting to droop. After about an hour, he would finish the work, and the roof would be all repaired.

He left the building again, and he saw the owner beginning to creep back to his position. Yama would raise his hand, smiling across his blood-stained face. He apologized once again for what he had to see but reassured the man that he believed there would be little he would have to worry about now that he had made an example of the bandits themselves. He also said that he should simply find him and let him know if there were more issues. He would promise to return and finish the job he had started should it happen again. The owner would bow shakily before accepting his offer and handing him the due payment. Yama would thank the man, give him self, and walk away, closer to the village.

While walking through the pathways, he heard people hollering and calling out in stress and exhaustion. It sounded like a large group of people were trying their damnedest to move something rather significant, and by the sound of it, it was heavy, too. He meandered his way towards the commotion and found precisely what he thought was. A group of a dozen men tried to move this massive tree that had begun to grow over the pathway, taking over the walking area slightly. They saw Yama, and all instantly began to call out to him, begging him to come and help move this massive trail down the pathway and chop it down to size for firewood. Yama would think for a moment, and he would offer. However, this was something that he could do relatively quickly, possibly help however.

When he arrived, the people began rejoicing in the aid he would provide. Yama walked up towards the tee and began to analyze the best action to take when getting the tree out of the way. He decided to focus his power inwards, activating the gate of Pain at once. He wrapped his massive arms around the base of the tree, and only he began to lift, and even more slowly, the tree started to move.

First, the trial would begin to end, as if the force was too much for the welf to handle. He slowed his lift down just a tad, ensuring that he would be breaking the tree, understanding that if he was to do that and it hit one of the men, they would die instantly from the force. The tree began to give, the roots began to provide, and cracks were heard from within the earth. He pushed harder and harder, lifting the tree as he could tell he was making headway on the situation. After a few more minutes, roots could be seen breaking off under the ground, penetrating the earth's surface.

Yama stoically and methodically uprooted the tree, using his great strength and chakra to carefully guide the delicate acts of bringing it to the ground. The moment was a poignant contradiction, as the young man fought against the marvels of nature to remove a threat to the village. Simultaneously, however, Yama knew that in this act, there was renewal, another opportunity to plant and grow, another opportunity to systematize the environment. It was done, and the young man stood quietly before the fallen tree, paying his respects to its life and to the nature of the cyclical nature of it all. Then he begins clearing it and sectioning it off for use in the village.

Invariably, the wood would have another purpose, another chance at providing for the people, another opportunity for use and reuse. Yama found himself satisfied in more ways than the visible, knowing that his actions had minimized harm and utilized the environment healthily and organically. Again, his thoughts returned to Akaime, thinking about the future that the two of them could build if he was to be so lucky.

With the rather large tree uprooted and out of the way, it came time for the group of men, that now seemed to include Yama, to begin splitting the chunks of wood into separate piles. They didn't have any splitter that could make the work shortform, so instead they would be relying on axes and chisels. Yama would grin as he would grab an axe from one of the men and he would lie the round before him, and start hacking at it with the full extent of his force.

With each swing there was a sickening crack as the wood began to give under the sheer power that was Yama's will, and the pressure provided by the axe. He would split each round with one mighty swing of the axe, bringing them men to a point of awe as they watched the performance unfold before them all. After he was done with half the tree, the other men had small piles of split wood before them, evident to the difference in power that there was between Yama and the other men.

He kept a cheery demeanor as the men split the wood, trying to keep the power to its fullest. When he began to get tired, he activated an inner gate, unlocking more power to his body, then another, then another. By the time he was done with the tree, the men were merely watching, impressed by just how powerful the walking mountain truly was, even cheering him on at some points. But for now, the tree was felled and the majority of it was split into small sections. He would deactivate the gates, feeling the pain the coincided with performing such a feat.

Keeping his smile and cheery demeanor, he would bow to the men were showering him with compliment and their thanks. Yama assured them that it was his pleasure as he began to leave the group of men to continue on with their work now that the hard part of the job was completed. He didn't feel driven enough to stack all the wood, at first. But when one of the men asked if he would help with that aswell, he turned and smiled and told them that he would love to. He climbed into the back of one of the wagons and he began catching the pieces of wood that was tossed to him by the men, and stacking them into a neat stack on the back of the wagon.

He continued this process until the wagon was full and all of the wood was moved by this point. He would think of his sweet Akaime during this process, thinking of his sculpted body, his beautiful eyes, and just how everything about him caused his knees to grow weary and weak, nearly folding him over just thinking about his body pressed against his. He couldn't help but to get excited about it.

But he would contain his thoughts for the time being, remembering that he needed to prove that he wasn't weak. That he could still be the man that Akaime seemed to believe he was. Then he could claim the god's heart, and maybe then the man would love him as well. There was a hope that fueled his movements, not just sheer determination. But with every movement, he prayed that he would grow in his strength to prove to his darling Akaime that he was worthy of his respect, and maybe, if he was lucky enough, his love.

Shortly after the wood was separated and stacked, the men told him that there were no more things that they needed of him and bid him farewell after giving him some compensation for the time spent and the work done. Yama would accept it graciously, thanking them for being such good workmates. They all separated and Yama began walking back through the woods, curious as to what the world would hand him next in regards to things to do for the day. He normally didn't take on such odd jobs, but there was something about this place that brought out something positive in his mind. Some unseen force that beckoned him to perform good deeds like he had done so far today.

He reached the end of the woods, and he found himself in a rather large settlement, full of people. He got a bit nervous, as big crowds weren't a particular favorite of his, but he continued in anyway. As he continued his travels, he passed by a specific tavern that seemed to have a loud noise coming from within it, the sound of a yelling man and a terrified woman. Yama thought for a moment, he realized that this wasn't his job, but again, he felt compelled to do something.

He entered into the establishment, and he found that his assumption was correct. There was a man who had just tossed a woman to the floor and was berating her for doing some sort of job not well enough for his liking. Yama didn't really care about what job was done incorrectly, there should still be a respectful manner in which things were discussed. The man looked over to Yama, and they both stared each other down.

Yama took a quick run-down of the man's physicalities. He was a white-haired, but he seemed rather young. He was fairly muscular, but nothing compared to Yama. He was slightly taller than average, but soon Yama grew tired of sizing the man up. He took a few steps forward, and then several men would stand up from their seats, all looking as if they were about to fight. Yama simply smiled and he looked to them all, then he looked to the rest of the patrons within the establishment. He would tell the patrons to leave, because he didn't want them to witness four men being ripped in half, but if they wanted to stay, he wouldn't mind that either.

The rowdy group seemed to find this amusing, as they began to grab knives and other things and brandish them, showing Yama that they were armed. He look at the white-haired man and in an instant, he would activate the gate of pain. His body would fill with power, his muscles would enlarge and his eyes would grow far more fierce than before. He pumped his veins, hardening his two limbs to the state of iron, allowing them to clash with the men's weapons, and then he bolted forward as a speed almost unbelievable.

Within moments he had his arm directly piercing the man's chest cavity. His left fist was now covered in blood and guts, while the man with the new hole just grunted and his eyes seemed to grow wide, the slowly they rolled to the back of his head. Yama pulled his arm out and he would begin to scan the room, looking at the other individuals that had the knives before. They were standing there, shocked, in awe, terrified, all the above as they contemplated their next steps. Yama would tell them that it was too late to run now.

His next steps weren't so fast, they were more methodical, menacing, and calculated. With each step growing closer, the men just stood there, one began to cry and begged for his life. But Yama told him that it was too late for that now. His rage had filled to the brim within his mind and body, leaving nothing worth reasoning with. He arrives at the position of the first man, he was speechless, motionless, in shock. He grabbed the man by his head, and he stared into his eyes and told him to beg. He would set him down on the floor and he would wait.

He told all of the men to beg for their lives, because he wanted to see the hope fall from their faces as he would tear their limbs from their bodies. All of the men began to beg, crying and weeping, speaking of their families that they had at home. They pleaded with everything they had to offer, they offered him money, services, everything they could think of. But Yama didn't hear anything he wanted. He would ask the men to choose one that would die today.

He would give no further instructions, just a simple request to chose one of the remaining four that would lose their life today, so the rest could leave the place still breathing. He threw two of their knives on the floor and told them to battle it out. The men looked down at the knives, then they looked over to him. They were still crying, begging for another way, but Yama stood firm. He reminded them that if they didn't choose one, then he would choose them all, and not to keep him waiting for too much longer. This was when he was interrupted by the woman, the reason he came in for.

She would beg Yama to let them leave. There would already be enough trouble with their leader being dead, and now Yama should run. Yama knew the woman was right. When the people find out what has been done here, there was little means for him to defend himself with. He would nod to the woman, and he would wave his hand to the others, telling them to leave and to think about what they had done to deserve such a day with Yama. The men would scramble out of the building, screaming to high heaven about what had happened.

Yama would disperse, leaving the settlement behind, and he would return to the woods, a haven compared to the hell that was civilization.

WC: 5032
TWC: 5032
EXIT

Claims:
Completion of 5 D rank missions
+5000 ryo
+25 AP
Current AP bonus 594

WC Claims:
+1500 towards mastering Leaf Rising Wind (Complete) (Mastering for more power)
+1500 towards mastering Block (Complete) (Mastering for extra Power)
+1500 towards mastering World Of Glass (Extra Power) (Complete)
+500 towards double mastering Block (500/1500)
+100 AP

Yama Kokoro wrote:
WC: 5032
TWC: 5032
EXIT

Claims:
Completion of 5 D rank missions
+5000 ryo
+25 AP
Current AP bonus 594

WC Claims:
+1500 towards mastering Leaf Rising Wind (Complete) (Mastering for more power)
+1500 towards mastering Block (Complete) (Mastering for extra Power)
+1500 towards mastering World Of Glass (Extra Power) (Complete)
+500 towards double mastering Block (500/1500)
+100 AP

Approved

Note: Next time please add the "Before and After" for ryo reward. Thank you!