Truthful Travel

Recently Junko had returned to stay at the Kage tower since Akabayashi’s departure, though she had enough sense to hire somebody to look over their home while they were both away. For now though, she she called the tower her home. After a recent discussion with her cousin Akaime and one of her advisors, Junko decided it was best for her to visit the temple of Jashin. Though she was unsure of how the others within the village would see her after she bound herself to such a dark deity, admittedly she didn’t care.

Those close to her knew Junko to be caring yet ruthless when it was needed, so she doubted this would shock them. Though some of them knew of her ability to manipulate blood, her fascination for it was hidden from most of those around her. Jashins honied words had been enveloping her mind more than usual recently, so unsure of how to continue, she was sure she’d find the right direction at the temple. It took a few days for her to decide on the best way to go about doing so, but after some time she had made up her mind.

She would take a small group to the temple with her, those she knew she could trust. Those she knew were powerful enough to support her should they run into trouble, and those she knew would benefit from it. Once she decided on a list, she immediately began sending out letters to the various homes of her companions. In beautiful red ink, each note was the same, with the only difference being the names of each receiver. The writing itself was in an elegant, cursive-looking script.

”I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. I’m sending this letter to request your presence at the gates in 3 days. I need your assistance with a task outside of the village that may take some time. I apologize for being vague, but this is a relatively sensitive matter. Once we are together I can give you more information, but for now, I ask that you trust me. Please bring whatever you believe you’ll need for a few days, and pack light if able.

Hope to see you soon
Lady Junko Tsukiko”

Upon completion, she’d send out the letters to the selected individuals and return her attention to village duties. Over the next few days, she’d inform Kiko that she would be acting Village leader until she returned, and assign Nariko to look over her. Though her clone pushed for the reason why, Junko simply told her it was best that she not know yet. Thankfully the village was in a good spot, so there weren’t too many tasks she needed to wrap up. Days passed and it was easy enough to pack a handful of clothes, along with some of her equipment and armor that Azuki had crafted her.

As usual, it was a beautiful, sunny day in the bustling village of Tsukigakure. After saying goodbye to Kiko and offering her some reassurance, Junko left the Kage Tower. She adorned herself in a snuggly-fitting black dress with slits up the side and one band of fabric over her shoulder. It stopped roughly an inch above her ankles and finely made roses could be seen embroidered in gold thread throughout the bottom of the dress and up the sides of her torso. Underneath, she wore black, spandex-like shorts that clung tightly to her thighs, allowing a bit of her skin to bulge slightly out of the bottom of them. Around her thighs, various straps could be seen holding various bits of equipment along with some pouches. Her beautiful black hair laid gently down her back and rested on her shoulder, occasionally a hair would leave it spot to dance in the ocean breeze before returning to its spot.

Soon she found herself standing just before the gate, nervous to cross the precipice on her own. There she would remain, awaiting her companions. Though she was unsure if they would decide to follow her after learning of her intentions, she knew there would be no reward without a bit of risk. Should she see any of those she invited, Junko would offer them a warm smile and beckon them to join her.

WC: 720

The MaDKat saunters towards the gate; eyeing the lone figure in black. He catches the shifty aura around her, his Yamanaka senses granting him the foresight as he got within 10 meters of her. He didn‘t know too much about her, other than the fact that she was a medic and leader of this island nation. Perhaps, during this little voyage towards where they were going, would shed some insight on the matter. He stops right beside her, a meter sway on her left side. His morning ritual of herbsl prerolls teemed from his body, though, not overpowering to the point of discomfort.

Revealed to all who bore witness, Katsuragi's attire consists of a Yakuta black leather jacket that was altered to that of a vest. The inner workings still functional with no hindrance. Underneath his vest, he wears a navy blue hoodie. His belt is black leather, designer's choice, with an overlapping LV emblem as a buckle. Attached to the right side of his belt, a knife holster to which Bushranger(An ANT knife) rested in. The locking strapped to keep it in the holster was buttoned in, although easily retrievable with a willful draw.

His shoes were bright in color, the Dreadful Oni SBs. His pouches are covered by his hoodie, but are still accessible with ease. His pants being that of a fresh pair of black stretch jeans with ankle zippers located on the lower inside section of the pants. His hair, still vivid, was a solid dark purple. His hair in contrast with his pale skin, however, his arms torso and hands bore a mural of mostly assorted prison tattoos; all black ink in color. His most notable tattoo, aside from his spiderweb tattoos that indicate that he has served time in Pelican Island, was his Jashinist Symbol that is stamped on the right side of his neck. He himself stood at a height of 6'2 feet with a thin frame. His other tools and such were also assorted evenly along his attire, given no hint to their whereabouts yet allowed him easy access with a little bit of technique due to his skill with the hidden arms technique.

To top it off, he finally wore his new navy blue Supreme Ryūjin Bucket Hat; it rested snug upon Katsuragi’s head.

“Damn, Mai. You got a good set up here; Eat, Sleep, Surf, and Weed. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to leave here either! Must be real important, how much we getting for this anyway?”, he picks at the Kage’s intentions while adjusting his old navy Jansport backpack full survival items; he fell in love with this thing at first sight within the thrift store. His knowledge of her being the kage was still fresh, as he wondered what else was to know about her. Not that he cared about her personally. He figured he’d get in good with the leader with ties to the international organ trade. Who knows where Katsuragi could end up with connections like those.
—-
TWC/ 503
-5 AP Byakugan

Oda packed his bags excitedly, it had been 3 days since he first received Junko's letter and he had to admit to himself that he felt a little in over his head. He wondered who else would be accompanying them. He looked over his belongings as they were carefully laid out onto his bed segmented out. Not that there was much, A simple jacket, black and rough but made of sturdy material, it was water resistant and ran a little longer down to the middle of his thigh. He had a cheap and simple pair of hiking pants. Next to that was a Pack made of canvas which held some water and some food, as well as a couple of romance novels for the journey. He kept things light and relatively simple, Oda still wasn’t used to having much money and even the jacket was a big purchase for him.

After packing his jacket into his bag he moved on to what he would be wearing, he was excited to wear his new clothes, another uncharacteristic splurge of money. He replaced his traditional headband with a more unconventional full black headband which maintained the Tsukigakure symbol, next he replaced his vest with a more simple black kimono which breathed nicely and rested lightly on his body. His time in Tsukigakure had seen him with an influx of money and if there was anything Oda was ok with spending money on, it was tattoos. In celebration of his recent advancements within the village, he got various tattoos, each representing certain missions he had been on. Feeling good, and looking good, he made his way to the gates.

He excitedly left his apartment and made his way to the gates. The letter was rather vague on the meaning of this trip, which is maybe why Oda wanted to do it in the first place, he was always a sucker for a mystery. He tightened his headband as he walked, whatever the mission would be, Oda would try his best, that he was sure of.

As he approached he could smell a familiar scent of some sort of burned herb. Oda assumed it was some Jashinist ritual incense, and as he approached he gulped a bit as he realized the purple shinobi was present. Oda had no problem admitting to himself he was a tad scared of the man, he understood the power disparity. Still, he trusted Junko to know what she was doing and despite their conflicting philosophies on the sanctity of life he DID help with freeing the spirits in his own way. All these thoughts ran through his head as he approached, giving a wave and a smile at the two shinobi who seemed to be talking. He would wait for a lull in their conversation before saying anything.

“Bosslady! - sorry- Lady Tsukiko-” He said, bowing briefly at his village leader. “It is as always a pleasure to see you, I am honored you picked me to accompany you on your travels.” He would flash a wide grin, his excitement at the journey ahead was palpable.

He would turn to the purple haired shinobi “We worked together recently but I don’t think I got your name. I’m Oda Terumi.” He would give another small bow towards the man.

wc- 440

Takeshiyama’s journey began with the faint rustle of paper as he opened Junko’s letter. The elegant red ink and carefully penned words made it clear that this mission was both personal and sensitive, and a trip to Jashin’s temple suggested it was no mere errand. He could almost feel the weight of Junko’s intent in the careful strokes of her handwriting, and he knew this wasn’t a call made lightly. She’d need trusted companions, and for Kaito the Oni, the decision was simple.

After carefully folding the letter and tucking it into his belongings, he began to prepare himself. His dress, as always, honored the traditions that had dominated the life of a sumotori. Draped over his broad frame, the dark green and black kimono, with subtle geometric patterns along the hem, fell loosely but purposefully, allowing him freedom of movement. His left sleeve hung respectfully empty, left unbandaged now. This quiet reminder of his loss no longer needed concealment, and its absence was part of him as much as the strength in his remaining arm.

Barefoot, his calloused feet felt the sturdy earth beneath him with the practiced sensitivity that came from countless hours of training. In one graceful motion, he tied his belongings into a simple bag and slipped his kanobo, the weighted weapon a powerful symbol and practical tool, into place at his side. He felt the familiar comfort of the worn leather against his hip and the reassuring weight of its iron head. Lastly, he gently coaxed Wiggly-Woo, his sneaky yet loyal companion, to curl around his torso. The snake’s scales, dark with cream-colored bands, pressed warmly against his skin as it nestled into place under his kimono, hidden from view and content to lie still.

He considered waiting for Junko and the others at the gate, but Takeshiyama was nothing if not pragmatic. Going ahead would allow him to scout their path, ensuring the terrain was clear and secure a good meeting spot in the quiet of the forest’s edge. He made his way toward the gates, each step steady and deliberate as he scanned the familiar faces milling about the bustling village. Amid the crowd, his gaze fell upon a young boy, bright-eyed and quick on his feet, running errands with an enthusiastic energy that struck a faint chord of recognition. The memory surfaced like a ripple in a pond—this was the child who had worn the miniature mawashi he’d tied so carefully on that recent night of laughter and sweets.

“Here,” Takeshiyama murmured, folding a small slip of paper with practiced care. “Take this to Lady Junko at the gate. Tell her the Oni has gone ahead.” His stern look softened into a warm smile as he held out the note, the initial demand gentled for the boy’s obvious delight. Placing a massive hand on the boy’s shoulder, he gave him a brief but sincere half-hug, acknowledging the small shared memory and, in doing so, sending him off on his important task.

The note, simple yet pointed, read:

“Junko,
I’ve taken the lead, going ahead of the group. I’ll meet you outside Tsuki, where the forest begins. Consider this a gift of time and quiet that I am well owed.
— Takeshiyama”

As the boy disappeared into the crowd, Takeshiyama turned his sights forward, leaving the bustling village behind and stepping into the tranquility of the forest. The sky, once bright, dimmed as he entered the shadows cast by thick branches, the air shifting from warm sunlight to the cool, earthy scent of pine and moss. He exhaled slowly, centering himself for whatever lay ahead. The comforting weight of the rabbit talisman, secured against his chest, seemed to glow faintly, protecting him from the various spiritual defenses that had been woven into the land around Tsuki. It was a presence he felt deeply attuned to, the gentle pulse of its energy mingling with his own to ward off any ill-placed malice that lingered along the trail.

As he traversed the old paths leading away from Tsuki, memories washed over him—the battles, skirmishes, and solitary journeys he’d made long before the village had ever experienced its present-day prosperity. In many ways, the forest seemed to remember him too, though it had thickened and grown wilder over the years. He could almost hear whispers of distant spirits in the rustling leaves, subtle voices calling out from places hidden deep within the shadows. But Takeshiyama, ever grounded, stayed focused. His gaze remained fixed ahead, even as the undercurrent of the land’s power stirred around him like the gentle yet persistent pull of a river.

The familiar sounds of crunching leaves and birdsong, the earthy scent of the forest, and the coolness of the breeze settled his mind. He moved steadily, absorbing the subtle shifts in the surroundings as he neared the meeting spot, his every sense attuned to the ebb and flow of the forest’s energy. This journey was different, marked by a purpose rooted in an ancient darkness he’d once thought to leave behind. Yet Takeshiyama strode onward, confident that whatever they encountered, his resolve—and the strength he carried, visible and unseen—would be enough to face it.

Takeshiyama found the ideal meeting spot where the forest opened slightly, allowing beams of sunlight to filter down and bathe the ground in a soft, golden glow. Surrounded by towering trees, this small clearing would be easy for Junko and the others to find, yet it offered enough seclusion to feel apart from the rest of the world. He could hear the whisper of wind through the branches, blending with the rustling of leaves—a gentle, ambient symphony to accompany his thoughts.

Setting his bag down by the base of an old tree, Takeshiyama leaned his kanobo carefully against its trunk. He took a deep breath and slipped his kimono from his shoulders, allowing the fabric to fall to his waist, leaving his upper body bare. The skin of his torso bore the scars of battles hard-fought, each mark a memory etched into his flesh, reminders of past victories and losses. His left side, where his arm had once been, showed the musculature that remained, defined and disciplined despite his injury.

He stepped to the center of the clearing, feet sinking slightly into the earth, feeling the cool, familiar texture of the ground beneath him. Here, under the watchful gaze of the forest, he began his training ritual.

First, he lowered himself into a wide stance, thighs taut as he placed his weight evenly between his legs. With a slow, controlled movement, he lifted his remaining arm and extended it, palm open, as he traced wide arcs in the air. The sun caught on the hard lines of his body, highlighting each muscle as it engaged, creating a powerful image of strength and balance. His breathing was slow, deep, and steady, each exhale seeming to resonate with the very ground beneath him.

He moved into a series of traditional sumo stances, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in a rhythm he had perfected over a lifetime. He practiced the shiko, lifting one leg high and stomping down forcefully, the impact sending a faint tremor through the earth. Each stomp was purposeful, a powerful reminder of his strength and stability, grounding him as he focused his mind. Wiggly-Woo adjusted slightly before slowly slithering his way down to the ground, moving to relax in the sun watching the Oni.

Between movements, Takeshiyama centered himself in brief moments of stillness, closing his eyes and sinking deeper into a meditative calm. He let go of distractions, focusing only on the rhythm of his breathing and the feel of the earth beneath him. The clearing around him seemed to fade as he visualized his form, each muscle and sinew working in harmony, his body a vessel of his intent. These movements weren’t just practice—they were his connection to the strength he carried within, the power he had honed through discipline and hardship.

In his mind, the memories of past fights flickered, images of fierce clashes and close calls. But here, there was no need for force; here, he simply was. His bare chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his breath, muscles shifting beneath his skin as he moved fluidly from one stance to another. His movements were deliberate, a grounding ritual to focus his mind for whatever awaited him on this journey.

After a time, he lowered himself into a deep squat and rested his remaining hand on his knee, head bowed slightly. He allowed the quiet to wash over him, grounding himself in this place, centering every thought and feeling within the stillness of his mind. The forest around him seemed to respond in kind, the air stilling, and even the distant chirps of birds falling silent as if in respectful observation.

For a brief moment, Takeshiyama opened his eyes and gazed into the distance. The journey had only just begun, but he felt a deep, steady calm within him. When Junko and the others arrived, he would be ready. But for now, he allowed himself to simply be—to embrace the peace he found in each movement and the strength he carried within, ever a part of him as he faced whatever lay ahead.

(Potential exit from Tsuki)

TWC - 1546 (x1.5 due to peace = 2319)

Claims -

Iron Heart Fortress (normally 2500, with 25% discount = 1875)
remaining WC of 444 going towards Temple style Bark

Takeshiyama wrote:
(Potential exit from Tsuki)

TWC - 1546 (x1.5 due to peace = 2319)

Claims -

Iron Heart Fortress (normally 2500, with 25% discount = 1875)
remaining WC of 444 going towards Temple style Bark

Approved

As the familiar scent of herbs and the sound of footsteps drew closer, Junko turned to face him as Katsurgai approached her. Her demeanor was calm and relaxed, though she remained as confident as ever. Though she felt a bit anxious about leaving her village behind for some time, she believed it would remain standing until her return. She smirked slightly as he came to a halt beside her and spoke praises about the village she had crafted. With a nod, she spoke in her normal melodic voice, though her tone conveyed her excitement.

”I miss it already and we haven’t even left yet. I do hope our trip goes smoothly, though what's an adventure without a few bumps along the way… I suppose we’ll see. As for payment, our reward will be far greater than any amount of Ryo I could give to you.”

Her siren eyes shifted to the orange-haired terumi as he approached, though she didn’t know much about him, during their training he was quite the prodigy so she thought it wise to give him the opportunity to join them. Though he was only a genin, he had some of the strongest Shinobi in Tsukigakure accompanying him, so she was sure it’d be fine. She offered him a wave in return and a sweet smile as he approached. A slight chuckle escaped her lips as he called her boss lady, and quickly corrected himself. She returned his bow with one of her own, though she only used her head. He continued to speak, noting that he felt honored that she chose him to join them on their expedition.

”Good morning Oda, I’m happy you decided to join us as well, I think this will be a learning experience for all of us”

His gaze shifted to Kats, mentioning that they had worked together previously though he didn’t know his name. She remained silent for the moment, allowing them to introduce themselves. During their exchange, a small child wandered up beside her with a determined look on his face. The boy offered her a bow, and without raising his head from the position he held out a letter towards her and simply exclaimed “Your Oni has gone ahead Lady Kage Tsukiko ma’am!” Taking a step towards him, Junko gently patted his head before thanking him and taking the letter from his grasp. He left just as quickly as he came, disappearing back into the bustling streets.

After giving it a read-over, Junko nodded contently before slipping the piece of paper into one of her many bags. Returning her attention back to the two shinobi in front she remained silent until there was an opportunity to speak. Once formalities had been exchanged, Junko would speak up once more, though her tone was a bit more serious.

”Looks like the other person joining us went ahead and is waiting for us near the forest borders, shouldn’t take us too long to catch up.”

She paused for a moment, contemplating her next words carefully, though from his tattoo it was clear Kats had some sort of connection to Lord Jashin, she was unsure about how Oda would take the information. No matter, she was his chosen after all and she knew she could make this somehow seem like a good thing. Binding yourself to the god of death isn’t the worst thing a Shinobi could do after all, so she figured it would be fine.

”Well, I’m sure you’d like to know what we’re doing and where we’re going so I’ll give you a brief explanation. If you would like to remain here after hearing the details, that is perfectly alright, but what is said here remains between us and Takeshiyama once we meet up with him.”

She paused once more, waiting for a confirmation of understanding from both of them. Once given, a small smirk crossed her lips as she continued speaking, though her tone was serious it retained its melodic flow.

”I’ve been doing some research recently and have come across some information that might help us. It’s said that those who travel to the Temple of Jashin and bind themselves to it will have another shot at life if they fall in battle. Now, I’m not exactly sure what the ritual entails, but from what reading I’ve done, it changes based on who is doing it. Due to my lineage, I have a…. Close connection with the deity, he’s almost something like a grandparent to me but I’m unsure of what he’ll ask for. Does this sit well with the both of you?”

Junko watched their faces as she spoke, attempting to catch any emotion they tried to conceal. Her siren eyes occasionally lingered on one of theirs before shifting to the others, though her expression remained the same. She gave them time to speak, and to ask any questions they might have.


WC: 831
Total WC: 1551

“Hrmp, Yeah; now you sound like…”, he takes a moment as thoughts from the past pour in. Raleth, the first village shinobi he met that didn’t come off as an overbearing law man. He always spouted that anti-materialism bs, couldn’t have any nice around without him chiming in. However, as short of a term he played big brother to Katsuragi, it really did go a long way… to a point.

His all seeing eye picks up a new character, approaching the rear. He turn towards the familiar orange haired cat known as, Oda. He shakes his head with pursed lips, acknowledging the fact that it was indeed him. How could he forget the pyro that blew up the house full of spirits, along with all the loot Katsuragi pieced together. “Look at this; I remember you.”, his fork now facing the child directly. “Where’s your friend, Jumbo? You know him, Mai. Big guy, missing a hand, EN…titled as fuck?”, the thought of him made him question his reasoning for being here. It proved just how much of a drag he thought jumbo was. He turns his gaze towards Mai once again.

“Anyways, what do you want from us? If you aint paying us in cash, why should I tag along? I could be at the Red Moon Resort shootin craps.”

His answer would be disclosed after the boy messenger arrived and delivered a note to, Mai. “Yo, Mai! Wats up? What are we doin?”, he stated again before she spoke.

“Uuuuuggghhh”, he groaned once he had heard that Jumbo was a part of this. “Should’ve known”, he said before walking off. He gave a glance at Oda, a clear indicator that Jumbo would most likely be involved. However, he was still in earshot of, Mai. What more coukd she say? It was enough, no more. He continues to shake his head and cross his arms, waiting for the sim talk to end.

“It’s said that those who travel to the Temple of Jashin and bind themselves to it will have another shot at life if they fall in battle.” - Mai

‘What?! How the fuck does she know that? Last I checked, the Holy Jūshin Bible aint sitting on some shelf at your local public library.’, he grits his teeth in frustration.

“Due to my lineage, I have a…. Close connection with the deity, he’s almost something like a grandparent to me but I’m unsure of what he’ll ask for.“ - Mai

‘Close connection my ass! No way he would cater to some… ugh. Oh that is it!!’

“Oh that’s it!”, his eyes shoot wide open, realizing that he was speaking his thoughts. He quickly recovered to avoid anymore negative impressions. “Oh That’s… it I’m all for going. What about you! ODA! my guy? Do you. Want to. GO?”, he quickly snaps his gaze towards Oda. He narrows his eyes, hoping his glare would convince the boy to sit this one out. Less people the better. Because now…, Katsuragi was ploting, coming up with numerous ways on how to deal with this. This leak, so to speak. Where they were going was sacred, no room for false prophets or wanna be believers of the Jūshin Faith.

He continues to stare at, Mai. As of now, he just couldn’t see her being a person of the Jūshin faith. His concerns of doubt began to manifest.
—-
TWC/ 1,067