Shinobi of Fire, Wind, & Ice
Chapter 1
In the vast Land of Fire, out in one of its many thick forests, there is a small village. It's like most villages, a place where people work their crafts and trade their goods. Unlike the countries glorious Konohagakure, most people don't know where this village is, and for a time, they did not even know it existed. The village was small and quite, and was naught but a small blip on most maps - if it was on those maps to begin with - and there was nothing quite of note about it. It was merely a line of houses, workshops, and a restaurant here and there on the sides of a long wide road that eventually led to the Land of Fire's hidden village. All that most people knew was just that some families left Konoha, either to get away from all the crazy destructive shinobi, or due to the terror of the Nine-tails attack on Konoha. These families stumbled across a secluded spot of land, and said "We shall build our quiet and secluded village here, free of the chaos of shinobi and tailed beasts, and we shall make it the most uninteresting and unremarkable village IN THE LAND!"
For a time, that's all that what was said about the village. It was dismissed as something as a backwater community and nicknamed "Komura," or "Little Village." Then, on one night, something happened that put the village on the map, literally. An event that nobody had expected.
It was a quiet night in Komura, children were slumping into bed after a long day of school, and shop-keepers were closing for the evening. It was a night like most any other night. It was peaceful, and a steady, cool breeze was beginning to pick up. But despite the villagers expectations, tonight would be different. Nobody in the village knew how it happened. To this day they debate fiercely on who to blame for the event that transpired. Some say it was the blacksmith who failed to fully extinguish his furnace. Some that it was a careless group of teens, having a late night campfire that quickly spread. Some say that it was simply a cruel act of some malevolent deity. But whatever the reason, that night, humble Komura was set ablaze.
Most of the villagers were taken completely by surprise. Out of nowhere, fires were spreading across rooftops and on the porches of their houses. In minutes, the night sky was lit by the raging crimson inferno. The villagers had little time to evacuate, having to leave with only the clothes on their backs. Little could be done to stop the blaze. Some men and women splashed buckets of water on what areas they could get near without fear of burning themselves. Their efforts proved futile, and all anyone could do was get their loved ones to safety. Fear was thick in the air that night, arguably even thicker than the smoke. It seemed that Komura was doomed. The villagers sat outside the reaches of the fire, waiting for when their homes and possessions would be reduced to piles of ash. But as they waited, all hope gone from their eyes, salvation came in the form of something the villagers least expected; a shinobi. In the darkness of the forest, some unknown traveler came forth.
He walked with a calm, yet confident pace. From looking at him, people could tell he was not any ordinary person. He wore a long black coat with a bright orange trim that flowed in the night breeze. His pants were deep gray, as were his sandals. His hands were covered by black, finger-less gloves, each with the metal piece that suggested a shinobi's presence to any commoner. On his back was a small bag that presumably carried what possessions he had. Most of his face was obscured by his jacket's large hood, and the rest seemed to be covered in an unusual shadow that mostly hid his features. As he came near the village, the people began to grow uneasy at this man's presence. They were already suffering enough, they didn't want this guy making things even worse for them! Who was he, and how dare he approach their homes with such calm footsteps!
One villager cried out "What the hell do you want!?" At this, the man stopped. His gaze, which had been solely focused on the burning Komura, slowly shifted towards the villagers. With a voice both strong, yet gentle, he spoke the only words those villagers ever heard from him.
"I'm here to help."
With those words, he tossed his bag near the villagers, and walked into the burning Komura. He did not seemed bothered by the fires around him, in fact he seemed to hardly notice them. He walked with that same calm pace he had first appeared with, never breaking a step. He approached the center of the village, and turned so that he was facing in the direction of the villagers, seemingly to display either his lack of fear, or to give them a better view of the miracle he was soon to perform.
With of flick of his left wrist, a large knife suddenly sprouted out of his sleeve, which he slowly pulled out with unusual grace. For a knife, it was thick and unusually wide, wider than a knife would need to be. It's blade was very reflective, glistening in the light of the fire. The edge itself was a white, silvery color, but the rest of the blade was as black as his coat, probably even darker, and it seemed to have a strange mechanism in it's handle and hilt. He held it in his right hand, facing its tip towards the ground.
Suddenly, his hand flickered, and the over sized knife extended into a long blade, lightly poking the ground. It seemed mechanical, with the blade being made up of several sections that constituted its length. It seemed capable of slicing steel or whatever obstacles would get in this man's way. He readied his stance, bending his knees slightly, and lifting the blade so that it was at an angle to the ground, never wavering from its position. Whoever he was, this man knew what he was doing.
The man spun in one flowing, circular motion, seeming so quick that his entire body was nothing but a black and orange blur, and his sword let out an audible sharpness that all the villagers would remember for years to come. All of a sudden, a terrific gust issued forth from where he stood, so loud and so swift that birds for miles loudly fled their perches.
As the villagers recovered from the sudden blast of wind, they saw to their bewilderment that the fires, that were destroying their homes, had suddenly disappeared. All the fires were gone, and strangely enough so was most of the smoke. The fires were completely extinguished, their homes had been saved. And at the center of it all stood a lone man in a black and orange cloak, still in his perfect crouch-like stance, with his arm and sword extended in an upward angle, as if he had just finished off some great adversary.
Upon further investigation, the villagers found that their houses were remarkably intact. The roofs and walls were plenty damaged, but the bedrooms, kitchens and their things were mostly intact. There were scorch marks and holes in the walls, but nothing that could not be fixed with minor difficulty.
The villagers were overjoyed to say the least. The mysterious visitor himself walked back to his bag, yet he didn't have to. A small girl kept itsafe for him, and held it up to him with her tiny arms. The shinobi cracked a smile at her, and took his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He gently tousled the girls hair in a gesture of thanks, before slowly turning away from the her, and left the way he came, disappearing into the night.
The villagers ran up to her, asking if she was told his name. Was he from Konoha, or from some other country? She said he didn't say a thing to her, and that he simply left.
The incident, known as the Komura Blaze, was all the villagers talked about, and news of it spread quickly, eventually reaching the fifth Hokage's ears, who sent several ANBU agents to investigate the strange incident. They never found him, and the rumors of him being some missing-nin soon dissipated. But the news of the fire, and the shinobi who saved Komura made the village famous, and people from all over the land of fire flocked to it, eager to here the story of the Komura Blaze.
The little girl herself had her fair share of questions to answer, and she told them all the same thing, that he never said a word, and left as quietly as he entered. But, there was one detail that she kept all to herself. A detail that, had it been heard by certain gray and pink-haired shinobis, would've instantly known who this man was.
As the shinobi tousled the girl's hair, she caught a small glimpse of his face for only a second. In that second, she noticed this man had deep yellow hair, and three small, whisker-like marks on his cheek.