i've been reading most especially SeenoEvil121's 'Pirates!'-a one piece fic-and was hooked. i only borrowed the idea of gathering OCs to make an epic Naruto fanfic. i do hope everyone can give support.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Shadow Tournament
by: Bakunawa
Prologue
So many years passed and the World has changed
A kitsune was only a folklore to the Regions of Fire
Shinobi-kind were only alive in legends
And the art of nin had been long dead
It was raining. Tea Country was at the height of summer and it was practically pouring outside. A mercedes came speeding by the avenue, splashing grim water everywhere. She heard one of the diner employees exclaim loudly after seeing the windows covered in muck.
"Pathetic…" she whispered, sitting back on her wood-woven chair. From where she hailed it would barely rain, if not at all. On a typical day back in her native home, the sky had always been clear blue, the winds cool on the bare skin but the sun would beat unmercifully. But here, in the Peninsula of Trades, water was a wasted commodity. People here did not seem to appreciate what they have in abundance. They couldn't even properly drain rainwater from the streets, while there are areas in Wind where a bottle of water has the equivalent of gold.
The young dark-haired woman, dressed in a sleek professional grey suit, pondered over a steamy cup of hot chocolate. Her coat and umbrella were hanged on the backrest of another chair beside a briefcase was by her leather-bound feet. She was alone, obviously. But she was only waiting.
It was exactly 6:14 in the evening and about two dozen or so of other people had came in, though most intended to wait out for the rain. The little restaurant was a little too crowded for its small floor area. But the young woman in grey kept to herself in a corner table by the end as well as to her gloomy thoughts.
She was not one for rainy weathers, she could admit. If given the choice, she should have been sunbathing in some beach in Crescent Moon Island, sipping colorful fruit juices or maybe party with style in Otafuku Gai. Heck, she could have made half a million ryo out of gambling in Otafuku by now instead of waiting in this cramp diner in Tea.
"Excuse me. Do you happen to be Miss Kyara?"
"Yes." Was the woman's curt reply.
"Um… may I sit?"
"No."
"O-oh…" the awkward balding man was taken aback.
"Unless you have what I want in that metal case of yours," the woman added, smirking, "then you may sit, Mr. Miyamoto."
The man pulled out the wood-woven chair opposite hers with unsteady hands and proceeded to sit without so much as pulling off his soaking coat. He was a fidgety middle-aged man, round-faced, short and portly with thick round glasses. He held the appearance of an office worker who never grew out of his awkward puberty. Harmless.
"I am quite sorry for being la-"
"It doesn't matter, Mr. Miyamoto," the woman, only known by the name Kyara, smoothly cut him off with a wave of a delicately manicured hand, "what would you be ordering from the menu?"
"What?"
"The menu, Mr. Miyamoto." The woman pointed at a greasy laminated menu list on the table before the balding man.
"What for?" Miyamoto was staring at her as if she had just told him the truth about lip-gloss and moisturizers.
"To eat of course… Ahh, I think I'll have fish and fries."
He nearly jumped fifteen feet in the air when a pink-dressed waitress appeared out of nowhere with a pen and order slips in hand. "One fish and fries," the young blue-eyed waitress repeated, jotting it down, "any beverages?"
"Another hot chocolate and a glass of water would be fine."
"Chocolate. Water. And you sir?"
The poor man sputtered like a fish, looking back and forth from the woman sitting opposite him and the waitress. "W-water. Just water."
"I'll be in bit with your orders."
The young woman in grey smiled back sweetly as the waitress left before returning her golden eyes to the wet man in front of her. "Relax, Mr. Miyamoto. It would have done you good to have ordered something. Anyway, I asked for the item. Do you have it?"
"Of course. But don't you think this is the appropriate place to do this, miss?"
"Do we seem to have a problem?" A fine eyebrow arched up. The Kyara's golden eyes piercing with bored annoyance.
"No, no…" he held the metal case closer to his person, almost as if defending it from her gaze, "but it's too crowded in here. Shouldn't we proceed with the exchange on a different location?" He was looking around nervously. At that instant, the waitress returned with two glasses of water for each and an extra hot chocolate the young woman ordered. Miyamoto only looked at Miss Kyara, proving his point.
The woman chuckled, "Mr. Miyamoto, I assure you this is the safest place. People are blind amidst a crowd. And besides, for all they know, we are just business associates out for dinner."
The woman's eyes was on him, soft and tantalizing, yet keen on making him feel he had no other option but to agree with her logic.
"… Of course." But Miyamoto had not put his guard down. He knew this woman's lot. They are not the types who should be meddled with nor are they the type to be questioned unless you wish for a horrible death. Unfortunately for Nakato Miyamoto, he had been born under the most unlucky star.
His shoulders remained rigid as he carefully place his metal briefcase on the table and fumbled for a moment for the numerical combination on the mechanical lock. A soft click and it was opened.
He turned the case around, revealing to a golden-eyed woman a red scroll.
"May I?"
"I would not have the means to stop you even if I tried," he said weakly.
"So far, that is the most intelligible thing you've said, Mr. Miyamoto." Kyara took the scroll with both hands, turning it over and over before releasing the clasp. She unfurled the paper on the table.
"… It's blank." It was Miyamoto you spoke. He's face quickly turning as white as the paper the woman was inspecting.
"You sound… disappointed." But young woman's eyes never left the blank sheet. She was examining it much like an expert examining a diamond.
"But… shouldn't it be…"
Finally the Kyara lady looked up at him. "What's the matter?" and she looked genuinely confused by his behavior.
"The scroll is empty. Should it suppose to be that way?" Miyamoto was almost ready to run.
Kyara looked lovingly on the scroll, skimming a hand across the smooth surface. "it may seem so, Mr. Miyamoto. But there is one way of finding out if this is genuine."
The young woman brought her thumb to her lips and bit hard until she drew blood. The old balding man could only watch in quiet fear. "What are you doing?" he asked, "you're bleeding."
"Be honest, Mr. Miyamoto," Kyara asked, holding back her bleeding thumb, "what do you think will happen if we find out this scroll is a fake?"
The man hunched over, hands on the table edge and trembling. "Please… I d-don't want to die," he whispered, begging pathetically.
"Relax. I don't usually kill people out of cold-blood."
"If not you... then he will."
Kyara looked solemnly at her left thumb for a moment before pressing it down on the blank scroll surface. "Then I do hope this is genuine," she said quietly, "for your sake."
She removed her thumb and the red stain of blood immediately seeped through the papyrus fabric until it was gone as if it had never been there. Both were silently waiting, one mildly curious while the other praying for his life.
A beat or two, Miyamota silently gasped. The bloodstain appeared again, seeping out where it was previously marked and spreading across the paper surface. It was like watching the paper bleed from an unknown wound. Fine tendrils of red began to form and an image appeared of the kanji 'shadow' on the palm of an outline of a left hand enclosed in a double circle of tiny undecipherable script.
"What is that?" the older man asked, befuddled.
"… That, Mr. Miyamoto," Kyara said breathlessly, smiling from ear to ear, "is your salvation and my ticket to witnessing the greatest entertainment of all. Tell me, have you heard of the Shadow Tournament?"
"Y-yes," Miyamoto answered, whispering as if uttering the words could summon the devil himself, "I've only heard from the others. I don't know if I heard them correctly. My… employer never explained. Is it a sort of underground... fight club competition…"
Kyara chuckled again, a lighter tone that was closer to a laugh. "Oh, you silly man. But it's a very close description than none and I assure you it's more than a little fight club. It will be the greatest show on earth!" She took out her thin silver phone and pressed for speed dial. "I have it. Make the transfer" she said to the other end and hung the call.
Not a moment too soon, Miyamoto's phone jingled to a cute little tune. A short text message 'cash received' appeared on the screen. He had never been so relieved in his life.
"Well, Mr. Miyamoto, I take it this transaction is over and done with," the woman said, rolling in the scroll and securing it inside her leather briefcase. "I will be taking the merchandise, as you have your payment. It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Miyamoto. And I do hope we may not be meeting again under any circumstance."
Before he knew it, the golden-eyed woman in a sleek grey suit running by the name of Kyara, was out of the door, coat and umbrella in one hand and the briefcase on the other, and without so much as shaking hands with him as in accordance of proper business etiquette.
And balding Miyamoto was left dumbfounded, soaking the seat in his own wet coat with a plate of fish and fries, two glasses of water, an untouched cup of hot chocolate and the bill.
Kyara smoothly unlocked the hotel room 703 and slid quietly inside. It was dark in the swanky suite, the curtains all closed, save for the glowing laptop screen acting like a beacon at the far end of the room.
"Hotaru-chan? Are you here?" the woman called out as she reached for the light switch on the wall by the door. She practically jumped back three feet when the lights went on and she found her partner standing right next to her.
"Shit! What are you doing? Trying to kill me?" Kyara was beside herself, holding her case as if a shield against a tiny pale nine-year-old girl.
"What are you talking about? All I have to do is leave you for Time to kill since you're that old anyway."
The tall woman was suddenly towering over the girl. "And what is that suppose to mean? For your information, I'm only twice your actual age!"
The little girl only stared, pokerfaced. "Just give me the scroll."
With an annoyed huff, Kyara gave dropped the bag containing the item she bought earlier into the girl's diminutive outstretched hand. "You know, for someone who could barely reach my hip, you sure talk like I'm beneath you."
The little girl paid her no heed as she moved to the plush couch with the briefcase. Carefully pulling the red scroll out, Hotaru inspected the item's cover. "I remember…" she whispered with a scowl.
"It's real, I'm sure of it this time," called the dark-haired woman, pulling out a can of soda from the frig, "I did the blood smear and it showed the exact symbols like you showed me."
"I know…" Kyara's pale-haired partner was strangely solemn as she weighed the rolled papyrus scroll in her little hands.
Kyara broke the moment of silence with a noisy slurp of her grape-flavored carbonated beverage as she sauntered over to Hotaru. "Sooo…" she then said, looking over the little girl's shoulder as Hotaru rolled open the red scroll, "the next step in the plan is to get ourselves a team to enter the tournament."
"Genuine shinobi in the world today is one to a hundred thousand. They shouldn't be so hard for you to find," Hotaru said without taking her eyes away from the now empty paper, "and we still have at least a year to gather and train, so there's no pressure at all, is there?"
The older woman looked smug as she leaned forward on the backrest of the couch with her more-than-ample squashing Hotaru's head. "Actually, I'm so glad you mentioned that, Hotaru-chan," she said with false glee, trapping the tiny female in an embrace much to Hotaru's dismay, "because that's where your perfect chakra-sensing ability comes in perfectly."
"... I was afraid you'd say that."
Create your own character to be featured in the later installment of Shadow Tournament. Please follow the guidelines and post your characters as a review:
Name/alias and name meaning: (First and Last name order)
Age:
Gender:
Team position/specialization: (leader, support, medic, melee combatant, the sensei, what?)
Clan/bloodline: (canon or anime only) (optional)
Skills/jutsu/elemental affinity: (a list of ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu and other skills that your character has in his repertoire, whether original or canon. If you so ever wish to use any known martial arts—judo, kick-boxing and the likes—a list of detailed and descriptive techniques would really be appreciated. If you want to use an original form of combat, then please be descriptive.)
Arsenal: (equipments and weapons, be specific. If your character utilizes specialized weapons, be descriptive of its appearance and forms of attacks.)
Physical appearance: (again, be as descriptive as possible)
Characteristics/personality: (details of attitude and behavior including habits, mannerisms, quirks. What are the character's likes and dislikes. Way of speaking. Way of thinking. Anything that gives the character an identity uniquely his own.)
Background: (everybody has a history that shapes up who we are now)
Ninja way: (driving ambition, goals and dreams)
Others:
(remember: post your entries as reviews.)
to be continued...
