The First Step

As Azuki walks toward the Village Gate in the dim light of early morning, the towering structure looms above him, its massive size and formidable walls casting long shadows that stretch across the ground. This sight, a testament to the village's strength and resilience, prompts a moment of reflection, a pause in the rhythm of his steps as he contemplates the journey that has brought him to this point.

His mind drifts back to the beach home he had left behind just hours earlier, a dwelling of stone and rock carved by his own hands during a period of intense training. That solitary structure, set against the backdrop of the sea, had been more than just shelter; it had been a sanctuary, a place of solitude that had witnessed the transformation of a man once bound by a curse into one who had found a semblance of peace.

For months, that beach home had been his world, a tangible symbol of the life he had crafted in the shadow of his past. Yet, as he reflects on the path that led him away from that isolation, Azuki realizes that the notion of home has evolved for him. No longer a place, but a concept, intertwined with the connections he has forged and the sense of purpose that now guides him.

Ever since his childhood, ever since the curse that had once defined his existence, Azuki had been a wanderer, a nomad whose life was a ceaseless quest for belonging. The curse of Jashin had driven him, a relentless hunger for death that he fought to control, to contain, in a battle that was as much against himself as it was against the world.

But freedom came, not just from the lifting of the curse, but from the unexpected gift of companionship. In Junko, Azuki found not just an ally, but a kindred spirit, someone who understood the depths of his struggles and stood by him without judgment. Her acceptance, her friendship, had been a beacon, guiding him out of the darkness that had once enveloped his heart.

Reflecting on this morning, on the beach home that now lay behind him, Azuki understands that his steps toward the Village Gate are steps toward a future he chooses to embrace. Joining the village, dedicating himself to its cause and its message, is a decision born not of obligation, but of a deep-seated belief in the ideals it represents and in the person who embodies those ideals.

Junko's vision for the village, her dedication to a cause greater than any one individual, resonates with Azuki. In her, he sees not just a leader, but a friend, a sister in arms. His commitment to supporting her, to standing by her side, is a testament to the bonds forged in the crucible of shared battles and shared dreams.

As he continues his walk toward the Village Gate, Azuki carries with him the resolve of a man who has found his place in the world. The village, with its ideals and its promise of a future built on cooperation and understanding, represents a new chapter in his life—a chapter where he no longer wanders alone, but stands as part of a community, a family bound by shared purpose and unwavering support.

As Azuki approaches the Village Gate, his thoughts are not solely on his own journey, but also on the village that has become an integral part of his life. His reflections extend to the numerous missions he has undertaken, each one a testament to his dedication to the welfare and safety of the town and its inhabitants. These missions, varied and challenging, have not only shaped him as a warrior but have also cemented his bond with the community. It's a connection forged in action, in the commitment he has shown to the village's prosperity and growth.

The people inside, those who have left their homes to become part of this burgeoning village, did so inspired by Azuki's actions and the tangible difference he made. There's a sense of responsibility that accompanies this realization, a weight that he carries not as a burden but as a badge of honor. They had put their trust in him, in the vision he shared with Junko for a future built on strength, unity, and purpose.

Standing before the massive gate, Azuki pauses, allowing himself a moment to take in the significance of his return. From his attire to his demeanor, everything about him speaks of his commitment to this place. He pulls out his headband, its deep purple color symbolizing more than just affiliation; it's a declaration of loyalty, of a path chosen not just by circumstance but by conviction. His uniform, a blend of maroon, black, and purple, is not just battle attire; it's a representation of his identity as a protector, a leader, and a warrior dedicated to the village's cause.

With a resolve that has been tempered in the fires of countless battles and challenges, Azuki announces his return to the guards at the gate. "General Shinoda has returned," he states, his voice carrying the weight of his experiences, his successes, and his sacrifices. The boldness in his proclamation is not born of arrogance but of a deep-seated confidence in his abilities and in the role he has come to play within the village.

This moment, as he stands ready to cross the threshold back into the village, is a reflection of all that he has become and all that he aims to be. It's a declaration of his readiness to continue his work, to protect and serve the community that has become his home. Azuki Shinoda, once a wanderer driven by the curse that bound him, now stands as General Shinoda, a title that speaks of his journey, his leadership, and his unwavering commitment to the ideals and the people of the village.

WC:980

The serenity of dawn and the early light filtering across the room greeted Sakoshi the following morning. The experience was subtly complemented by the overwhelming intensity of thoughts from the previous day, causing him to contemplate. The co-occurrence of randomness, familiar and unfamiliar occurrences, and people prompted a stream of fierce contemplations. They haunted him throughout the rituals that marked a new day. With the serenity of the morning continuing to engulf him, Sakoshi walked to the kitchen, where more familiar settings made him feel at home, irrespective of his challenging role in the village. Today's choice was simple and modest but enjoyable – a lovely blueberry muffin.

The muffin, whose flavors and aroma were unmistakable, was all the guardians could have from time to time, and on this day, it was delightful. Sakoshi savored the flavor and taste with each bite, mentally noting that it was more than just a meal but an interlude, allowing him to pause, cease from action, and enjoy life's simple pleasures. Sakoshi settled down at the table, allowing himself to enjoy and experience the muffin. His mind trailed through the events and realizations of the gate, the unspoken stories painted through the eye, and the revelations of reasons and history.

This yearning made him feel the intrusion of reality at times – such a simple act was thus taken in an extraordinary setting. Then, the fragrance flavors of the kitchen became a haven where one could lay down the world's weight for the serene taking of a muffin – momentarily at best. The bricks and mortar surroundings brought serenity but also the grounding for realities. As spots of blue dotted my taste buds, the moment to relish was over, and reality beckoned. The blueberry muffin brought a new breath of purpose into my life because, without intention, I rose, ready to continue the journey.

The sun shone, and a light breeze moved the leaves as Sakoshi finished his modest breakfast. Sitting in the calm morning, the day ahead seemed ready to unfold in the quiet, steady routine that so often characterized his life inside the village. But the simplicity of the morning was gently coaxed in another direction as Ren approached him, the same man who had asked him to watch the village's gates too many times before. He needed the older man to take responsibility once again today. It was a simple, repetitious task, yet undoubtedly critical at the same time. The gates marked the boundary between the village and the outside world, and Sakoshi the guardian between them.

Ren's requests were always answered with a silent nod, a tacit acknowledgment of the responsibility beyond this simple task. His duty was one of monastic patience and warrior's vigilance – one that had been repeated so many times before that it felt like an integral part of his body. Every day, the tapestry of encounters that lay beyond the gate was different, testing his ability to gauge the intentions of those who passed and his understanding of the most enigmatic element of all: human nature. As he prepared to make his way to the gates on this unassuming morning, his mind was a calm sea, collected and thoughtful beneath the serene surface of the village.

As he walked toward his post, the inhabitants recognized him – he stood sentry each morning just as the sun began to make its way up into the sky. The air was cool and fresh, sparking a deep contemplation of the day's potential. The gate stood before him, its wooden leaves open like large welcoming arms. Sakoshi approached them and took his place. His eyes were sharp, his body sturdy, his heart stubborn. He stood before the great door, ready to face the day and whatever it may bring.

Sakoshi approached the village gate. He moved with purpose, measured but unhurried steps. His mind wandered far away like the sea quietly at the shore. The village buzzed around him with daily activities, while his world was a layer of contemplative silence. Something about the world filled the man with fear from the fomes of introspection, and he understood such thoughts fully. It was a profound realization, an ideal, although tinted with the hues of nihilism.

However, those colors were not based on disappointment. He smiled, not joyful or morosely but contentedly when he finally acknowledged that life was absurd. The more he saw the coming and going of empires, the rise and fall of men of wisdom until they inevitably found absurdity in their crazy search for knowledge, meaning, and philosophy, the more he realized that human life had no end. It could be considered an eternity, but the measure was trivial to an infinitely existing universe. And so, as he walked past people who lived their own lives, running, crying, finding joy in the reality of being alive, he understood how insignificant painkillers would be in four thousand years or so. However, Sakoshi felt no sadness, pity, or hatred. Instead, he smiled and resolved to protect them, for whatever was left of their perceived world, even though he feared triviality, was still necessary.

Sakoshi was the symbol of living for living's sake, yet he silently understood that it was all for naught. And he smiled, not to instill hope in the villagers but to mark his acceptance of the fact. The gates before him separated people from their inevitable end in meaninglessness. Sakoshi knew he was not there to mock them with that reminder but to remind himself. And so, as he approached the gates, he posed as a figure of watchfulness yet with a calm quiet of profundity. He was not a guardian of the physical world but only the tiny line between nihilistic wisdom and the sheer joy of living.

As he arrived at the village gates, Sakoshi allowed his eyes to drift across the landscape beyond the massive stretch of land these gates barricaded. It was a sight he had grown accustomed to. Still, its familiarity did not diminish the enchantment and gratitude he experienced every time he paused to see it with different eyes. The gates themselves were a whole other story. A marvel of artistry, they spoke volumes of the talent and effort of the people who had put them up.

The wood they were carved was solid and withstood many seasons; the carvings elaborate on the tales from which the village had come and the future that awaited it. Every beam and every joint was a product of perfect crafting, an achievement of the perfect integration of design and function that Sakoshi could not help but admire. Standing at the face of the gates with the early light casting its shadows on their surfaces, Sakoshi felt a surge of pride and a sense of pride. They were not just a part of the bedazzlement that kept the village from the outside; they were a passage point that linked the past to the future as either side was known to the unknown, and just like the idea they portrayed of craftsmanship and perfection mirrored the values that kept the community going.

Just as the gates stood firm against the weather and time, so did the communities uphold their way of life and support one another through the phases of life. Sakoshi appreciates the gate for much more than its aesthetic and function. He loved the community they symbolized, the physical expression of the work and unity that the village embodied and the guardian was yet to portray. The world beyond the gates was a mix of beauty and danger, both a challenge and an opportunity. Within, however, marked by this boundary was a life that thrived in a grand picture, a display of a microcosm of life's grandeur. And as he stood at one end, prepared to take up his watch, Sakoshi was reminded of this. He was a picture, a silent watch in time that would see the passing of several eras, but this he would do knowing that in time, the grandeur would remain unmarred, tradition watched over by a timekeeper.

Sakoshi's vigilant gaze moved over the land at the village gates before settling on the man approaching the gates. Something about the way he carried himself seemed to encapsulate the very essence of this land and its people – the effortless grace with which he existed in this place. The man I was watching was Azuki, a shinobi whose appearance was as unique as the bearing he carried. At five foot, ten inches tall, his stature was symbolized by the disciplined control that he had run throughout his physique. This constant embodiment manifested itself in the appearance of his athletic frame, a reflection of a life spent in training – molding his body into a weapon of strength and speed – with dark, almond-black skin shading his sharp-featured face. Azuki's face was full of definition in his jaw, defined shortly, and his eyes contained a focus, a hopeful glint piercing through the morning. And there it was – the only thing about him that didn't look lethal, his eyes that shone with warmth and composure. Because beneath the structured training and intellectual engineering lay an honest, easily bruised soul, or at least that is what Sakoshi gathered through his assumptions.

A pair of brown pearls hid behind tightly curled lashes and glinted beneath the sun's rays. Before the man walked towards the village gates, Azuki continued his emergence, air, and appearance, perfectly contrasting his dress. His afro was a statement of his personality, enhanced by the morning light and framed by equally curly sideburns that emphasized his lovely face. His top attire, with a kimono-like appearance that beckoned the wearers of old, told the story of a great man – a matter of warrior heritage. The dark cloth contained a subtle check, warm and closed in the cool surrounding us. His red sash wound around his upper body—a flash of length beneath his shirt, its deep crimson akin to a mirror of the passion below. His kimono's v-neck opened at his chest, showing off some of his power from the struggle in his past and a promise of the future. His open kimono led to the enclave of his lower-wearing wardrobe, matching dark checkered harem pants that shone his skill and superior mobility.

Carpeting above the ankle and perfectly wrapped into the same black sandals, he struck with a breathless strike each time. The shinobi's attire screamed, adoring his knowledge of old kits while appealing to his sense of freedom. The air was alive with anticipation, and the sense of subtlety appeared more vulnerable as my comrade and ally approached us in the dawn of the morning.

As Azuki would approach the gates, and by extension Sakoshi. He felt the emotions of the man were quite calm. He was a man that didn't let emotions truly rule his decisions, at least that is what Sakoshi believed. There was a lot about the man that you could gain from his emotions, provided you had direct access to them like Sakoshi did.

He would greet the man swiftly, but he understood the level of respect that this man had for the village. He would ask for his hand, and when he agreed, he would scan his history, learning everything there was to know about this man by looking deep into his eyes and scanning them. Then, he would let the man's hands go, and he motioned for the man to walk into the village.

"Welcome to the village that should be your home, soldier. You have earned every step that you take within our hallowed walls. Thank you for what you do for the village and for the things you will do for it." With a wave, he would see the man off and begin to look at the line of people waiting to enter the village. He sighed, realizing he would be here all day again. But when he was done dealing with the fact that he was undoubtedly stuck for a time, he calmed his mind and prepared himself for the long day of rereading minds.

WC: 2017
TWC: 2017
EXIT

Claims:
Allowing Azuki into the village
Memorizing Azuki's chakra signature through chakra sensory

WC Claims:
+1125 towards Ninshu Commune (Complete)
+463 towards Ninshu (Complete) (Previous Progress)
+429 towards Transparent Escape Technique (429/1125)

As Azuki strides toward the village gates, his presence commanding yet serene, he's met by Sakoshi, whose observant eyes seem to pierce through the façade of strength and composure to glimpse the soul beneath. The request for his hand, simple yet profound, bridges the distance between them, initiating a connection that transcends mere physical contact.

Azuki, extending his hand, finds himself momentarily vulnerable, the touch acting as a conduit for a flood of memories that cascade through his consciousness. The warmth of Sakoshi's grasp contrasts sharply with the cold tendrils of remembrance that wrap around his heart.As Azuki offers his hand to Sakoshi, the physical connection becomes a gateway to a flood of memories, drawing him deep into the recesses of his own past. The touch, meant as a form of greeting and respect, unexpectedly serves as a bridge to Azuki's childhood, a time shrouded in the smoke of flames and the searing heat of fire.

Suddenly, he is transported back to those early years, where the world seemed to engulf him in a relentless inferno. The memories of being branded a cursed child surge forward, stark and vivid. Azuki remembers the isolation, a byproduct of the curse that clung to him like a shadow, painting his every interaction with the brush of fear and misunderstanding. The solitude wasn't just physical; it was a chasm that separated him from the warmth of human connections, making his existence a solitary journey through a landscape marked by suspicion and aversion.

Training became his refuge, a way to sculpt both body and mind into weapons that could confront not just the external threats but the internal turmoil that the curse fostered. Every muscle honed, every technique mastered, was a step away from that cursed identity, an attempt to carve out a space where he could belong, despite the mark that sought to define him.

Yet, amidst the struggle and the relentless drive to overcome, Azuki's soul remained untarnished by bitterness. Behind the disciplined facade, his eyes retained a spark of hope, a refusal to let the curse extinguish the light of his spirit. This resilience, this capacity to nurture dreams amid despair, became the cornerstone of the man he would grow to be.

Reflecting on this journey, standing before the gates with Sakoshi's hand in his, Azuki is reminded of the lengths he has traveled from those days engulfed in flames. The recognition and acceptance he's found, first in Junko and then within the village, signify a departure from the isolation of his past. They represent the realization that his worth is not diminished by the curse but is instead defined by the strength of his character and the depth of his resolve.

The cascade of memories, triggered by the simple act of a handshake, doesn't pause at the innocent hardships of Azuki's cursed childhood. It surges forward, unfurling scenes of devastation that marked the destruction of his hometown, a cataclysm that razed the familiar to ashes and set him adrift in a relentless tide of survival and solitude.

Azuki's journey through the wilderness, a testament to his resilience, was marred by the omnipresent shadow of Jashin's curse. The wilderness was not just a physical landscape but a metaphor for the untamed, harrowing expanse of his own existence under the curse's influence. Days blurred into nights, each cycle a repeat of sickness and struggle, as the nightmares that tormented him took shape not just in his dreams but in the reality of his waking moments. Only those detached from sanity could traverse this path unscathed, and even then, the curse's grasp was relentless, its nightmares a constant companion in the solitude that enveloped him.

Amidst this darkness, his training with his master emerged as a brutal beacon of hope. The sessions, rigorous and unforgiving, pushed Azuki to the brink of death, each day a cycle of pain and perseverance. His master, a figure both revered and feared, guided him through this crucible, breaking him down to rebuild him stronger. Bones fractured and reformed, a physical manifestation of Azuki's journey beyond his limits. This period was a transformation, not just of body but of spirit, as he learned to harness chakra, to channel his inner strength into a weapon against the darkness that sought to define him.

Yet, this path was also strewn with blood, death, and destruction, a relentless march through adversities that tested his resolve and his humanity. Amidst the chaos, however, there were moments of light, fleeting yet significant. Azuki's memories brush against instances of kindness, heroism, and the impact he had on those he encountered. These moments, though not as vivid as others, served as reminders of the man he strived to be, beyond the curse and the bloodshed.

But it was his first meeting with Junko that shone brightest in the murky waters of his past. Amidst the tumult of his life, this encounter emerged as a pivotal moment of clarity and connection. Junko, with her strength and understanding, offered Azuki a glimpse of something beyond survival—a shared purpose, a sense of belonging that had eluded him in his darkest hours. Her presence, a contrast to the isolation and despair that had characterized his journey, became a beacon, guiding him towards a path of redemption and purpose.

As Azuki stands at the threshold of the village, the weight of these memories—both dark and light—shapes the resolve in his eyes. The journey from the ruins of his past to this moment has been arduous, marked by trials that would have broken many. Yet, Azuki has emerged not just as a survivor but as a warrior tempered in the fires of adversity, ready to contribute to the village and its future. In the tapestry of his memories, the threads of darkness are interwoven with strands of light, each one a testament to his transformation and the new chapter that awaits within the village walls.  

Azuki nods in response, the gratitude in his gesture as profound as the journey that has led him to this moment. "Thank you," he says, his voice carrying a softness that seems almost foreign on his lips, yet fitting for the significance of the occasion. It's a simple expression, yet laden with the weight of countless battles, both external and internal, that he has fought to stand where he does now.

As he steps through the gates, there's a tangible shift in his demeanor. A deep breath solidifies his resolve, a physical manifestation of his readiness to embrace the new chapter that lies ahead. The act of crossing the threshold is symbolic, a demarcation between the tumultuous past and the promise of a future he has fought so hard to secure.

Tears, unbidden yet unashamed, escape into the wind, carried away as if to signify the release of the burdens he has carried for so long. These are not tears of sorrow, but of relief, of triumph, and of a profound sense of belonging that has eluded him until this moment. "I'm finally home," he whispers to himself, the words more an affirmation than a declaration, spoken softly yet resonating with the strength of his conviction.

This moment, the act of stepping into the village as one of its own, marks the culmination of Azuki's journey from a cursed existence to a place where he can lay down the weight of his past. The village, with its towering gates and the community that awaits him, represents not just a physical location, but a concept of home that Azuki has longed for. It's a place where he can be more than the sum of his struggles, where he can contribute to something greater than himself, and where he can find peace and purpose among those who have come to recognize his worth.

WC:1294 TWC: 2,274  [Exit To village]

CLAIMING  25%Discount

Laser Circus A rank version Wc: 1,250
AcrobatcRecovery C B rank WC:1,024/ 1,125