Silence.
The ultimate peace few enjoy the most.
Nothing in the world can take the place of its persistence, and surely they all understand that it is as everlasting as they allow it to be. Silence is as deep as eternity; speech is shallow as time. Let them be silent so that they may hear the whispers of nothing, for it is one of the great arts of conversation…
Although no one dared to open their mouths, it wasn't silent.
No one spoke, indeed, yet a conversation was loudly boasting itself almost cockily within their gazes. A question was presented forward inaudibly.
What was going to happen?
Silence's reign continued on endlessly; never ending, never changing. The wind blew restlessly as if to urge the group to get a move on and to leave its sacred land of deserted peace.
The group's hesitation was well placed however, for they knew nothing of the destructive power they were about to release. Truly, the organization was made up of the strongest people of their time, but even their strength couldn't prepare them for what was to happen next.
A man, standing tall with eyes as emotional as a rock, stepped forward with a somewhat heavy heart. He was the leader of the group, and his hopes had been placed on the highest pedestal of hierarchy, but he still feared of an unknown outcome. Their preparations had been completed a while ago within the morning hours of sunlight, and now the sun sat high, beating at their backs angrily.
A young adult, sleeping quietly on his bed of sand, was covered in blood. His body was positioned in alignment with the Flowers of Four Seasons. His limbs protruded outward at awkward angles, but correctly in order for the ritual to begin.
Nine members-including the leader-stood with bated breath as they watched the orange-haired man step forward. He opened his mouth to end eternity:
"By cultivating the seeds of heavenly flowers, we cultivate those that belong to powers greater in divinity. We ask that the power of those divine present us with what we are looking for in exchange of the blood of the Shiyokubai and the Flowers of Four Seasons."
The man's deep tone faded away along with the wind, silence greedfully returning to its rightful throne. For minutes did they stand in awaitment, listening intently for a sign and searching with their eyes for a change in their surroundings. Some were becoming impatient with their desires and began to complain, but they were soon shot down by looks of evil from the leader's partner, the only woman on their team.
But then the young adult woke up from his spot on the sand.
His eyelids lazily pulled themselves back to reveal dull, brown orbs. He had lost too much blood from his battle against this organization and simply had no strength to lift his head. His hair was matted with dirt and sand, and his legs had been broken after a terrible fall from a miniature cliff. He was lucky to be alive.
A few members stepped forward to knock the teenager back to sleep, but they were stopped by the leader, who was curious as to what would happen. Perhaps this was apart of the awakening...the awakening of true power.
However, he was wrong.
The young adult cracked a smile before hoarsely speaking out, "So this...is what you wanted me for?" His laughs quickly turned into sick coughs. "How pitiful."
Immediately, one of the men became heated and lifted his weapon, a triple-bladed scythe, to end the gurgles of the teenager. Strings of curses flew out of his mouth, but before he could perform his action, he was pulled away from the circle, hushed by a friend.
The actions of the violent member pleased the Shiyokubai, a happy grin stretching across his face. "I thought...you would have at least...looked a little more...into my family's history…" He tried to sit himself up, but his arms were too weak from the pain, ending with him collapsing upon the ground with his face staring straight up to the sky. The dried blood in his mouth tasted terrible, but he wanted to get his message across, "You don't even have...all of the necessary requirements...to perform the ritual… I am a-assuming...you thought...things would be easy?"
"If you tell us of your family's Shiyokubai history," the leader spoke, "we will revive you after your death."
The young adult's eyes widened slightly at the idea. He licked his dry lips to answer the man's statement, "...I have no desire...to disrespect my family-" His sentence quickly came to a halt as his lungs began to fail him-he knew the end was near.
"Then may you-"
The leader was cut off. "But...I will tell you of one thing...I am not the Shiyokubai...the person you are...looking for...is hidden well."
The boy's body slowly began to twitch as the rise and fall of his lungs ended themselves permanently. The information within the boy's mind was sealed away with his death, and the group had no use of him anymore.
So they had the Flowers of Four Seasons...but they were missing something else within the ritual? Not only that, but they had the wrong person?
Shiyokubai blood was passed on to the eldest offspring only within the family...did that mean the boy was not an only child?
If so, where was the sibling?
2 Months Later
"Oh, no no no no no! Please don't do this to me now!" The young woman cried, hastily scrubbing at her yellow blouse. It was so unfair! And today of all days!
"Maybe if I add some more bubbles…" She murmured, already knowing the shirt was a lost cause. The only pair of formal pants she had was a white and yellow knee-length skirt, and the only shirt she had that would match it was the one in her hands. However, the blouse was covered in soy sauce after the little girl she was babysitting last weekend thought it would be funny to rub it on her chest.
"Well great…" she thought to herself, deciding that she was going to have to wear mismatched clothes. Hopefully, her father would understand if he asked her about it…
Wiping her hands off with a nearby towel, the brunette sat the laundry to the side and dug her hands into her pockets in search of the letter she had received last month. Pulling it out, she ran her fingers over the wrinkled paper slowly, reminding herself that it was a real letter from her father. Unfolding the letter carefully, she ran her fingers along the scripture silently before reading over the note once more for the hundredth time:
Aya,
How long has it been! I must apologize for my inability to write you back, Shorty. I've been extremely busy with things here at Kumo...you know how the Raikage can be at times.
However, I'm writing with a purpose, and it's extremely important that you give me your undivided attention. I will be coming to visit you on May 22nd to discuss a few things. There was an accident with Daisuke...and it's extremely important that you try and keep yourself under the radar until I can come and see you, alright?
You're a really smart girl, Shorty, and I trust that you will follow my orders until I can come and see you. I love you very much, Aya.
Dad
The young woman, Aya, smiled at her old nickname, remembering the old times of when she used to live with her father. If it wasn't for her condition, she could be with him right now…but dreaming for the past to change was just a waste of time.
His letter was a little unsettling though...the urgency in his words were unnerving, and her brother was supposedly in an accident? Hopefully he was okay…
It was also really odd how he ended his letter...Aya's father wasn't an emotional type of person, so seeing his words just seemed to reaffirm her suspicions that things were not alright.
With a quick shake of her head, she decided it was time to focus on getting things ready for her father's visit. She began to notice how quiet the village seemed to be today...considering that the neighbors who lived across the street from her were always outside playing around this time. Pushing away her observation though, she once again began to think about her brother, but hypothesizing about what had happen to Daisuke would just prove itself unnecessary when her father would arrive in a few hours to tell her the real story...yet she still couldn't help herself from wondering.
For the past eighteen years of her life, she had developed feelings of anxiety anytime something seemed to threaten her existence. Of course, she was certain anybody would feel that way, but even the slightest comment could send her into hiding. She had grown up living a childhood very different from the standard beginnings of life and was taught by her father the horrid past of her bloodline.
-xxx-
"To obtain aptitude and strength," her father once said, "shinobi work hard to perfect and sharpen their skills, building powerful bonds with friends; however, some shinobi seek an easier route to power, and will steal, lie, and even kill to receive false talent."
He told her about his story many times in the past, about how he was sought after by many ninja because of a legend...a legend that told of the power of the Shiyokubai.
The Shiyokubai was once a colossus who journeyed the nations in search for blood to quench his hunger. He had traveled from his distant country in search of new prey when the first civilizations of shinobi were developing. He ate and feasted upon all who crossed his path, that is, until he was sealed away into the body of a child.
The child had grown up to become the greatest ninja of his era and saved his village numerous times from others with the help of the power granted to him by the Shiyokubai. The child, who was now a man, married and had many offspring, in which the village was hopeful his kin would become shinobi who were even greater than their father. However, only the eldest showed promise while the others failed and became regular villagers. It had even turned out that the man who carried the Shiyokubai no longer held the colossus's power.
It had been passed on to his eldest child.
For generations, this had continued, finding its way through loopholes whenever the eldest child didn't have children. The bloodline of Shiyokubai powers always reappeared in the next generation, even if the eldest refused to pass on his/her DNA or died at a young age. It was rumored that the Shiyokubai had the strength of multiple tailed-demons...
The carriers of the Shiyokubai were forced into hiding as children in fear of shinobi taking advantage of their young age. When the Shiyokubai was first sealed away, a group of men had used the Flowers of Four Seasons and the Scrolls of Night and Day to tame the beast's power. If those six items-along with the Shiyokubai- were brought together in ceremonial fashion, then the colossus would return stronger than ever before, dedicating himself to serving the humans who had released him in exchange for his freedom…
Eventually, the story of the Shiyokubai turned into a legend...the Kages of all the villages probably didn't know of the existence of the Shiyokubai due to how secretive the bloodline had become...
Daisuke could have been attacked because of this…
-xxx-
After hanging her laundry out on the line to dry, Aya entered her house with haste, a terrible feeling of being watched taking over her senses. She looked down at the dark blue marking on her wrist, a sharp exhale escaping her nose as she resisted the urge to give a bitter laugh. It was funny how fate seemed to never play in her favor, no matter how good her cards were. Her situation was quite unique...most Shiyokubai were immediately sent to train to become a shinobi in order to learn how to protect themselves, but she was sent to a village south of Kumogakure, which was her birthplace.
She lived in a decently-sized town full of many distant relatives who shared her name…well, at least the majority of them did. They had dedicated their lives to protecting her and ultimately, all five nations of shinobi from the power of the Shiyokubai. They felt it was unnecessary to teach her any major forms of ninjutsu, but did spend some time with her on taijutsu. Considering her home wasn't even located on a map, they thought she would be safe living far away from her father, an adviser of the Raikage, and her brother, a jounin of Kumogakure.
"If only life were simple." The brunette said out loud to herself. Entering her kitchen, she decided it was time to begin chopping up the vegetables for a miso soup, remembering her father talk about how it was his favorite thing to eat whenever he visited restaurants in one of his letters. She pulled out a cutting board and knife, preparing the green onion slowly to make sure she wouldn't mess things up like usual. She originally never knew how to make miso soup until a week ago when she asked her neighbor, Asuka, to help her out. Aya recalled how the old woman's dark green eyes seemed to light up at her request, more than happy to assist the young woman. Typically, Aya liked to keep to herself, keeping a sharp eye out for suspicious people…
After all the veggies were chopped and well-prepared, she left to go change her clothes from the old capris she was wearing to her white and yellow skirt and a dark blue blouse. The colors didn't match whatsoever, but she liked how the blouse made her eyes pop a little. She glanced into the mirror, planning on only taking a few moments, but ended up critically commenting on her appearance for a minute or two. Dark circles seemed to have permanently rested themselves under her reddish-brown eyes from her anxiety attacks and book reading at night. Her pale, tiny form looked unflattering in her eyes due to her small breasts and the freckles that decorated her nose and cheeks. She could pinpoint a few discolored marks on her knees from when she used to pick at the scabs, and her wavy, brown hair looked like a frizzed up mess on top of her head.
But nevertheless, she gave herself the nod of approval and left for the kitchen.
After setting some water overtop the gas oven, she let it sit to boil and focused on pouring drinking water into some cups. She set the cups on the dining table in the other room, running her fingers across the smooth wooden surface.
"It's been a long time since I last used this." Aya thought, smiling deeply as she patted her pocket to feel the note. She had not seen her father in several years...she couldn't wait to hear his stories about his work and to show him the illustrations she had been laboring over. Aya liked to consider herself an artist; she paid her bills by painting signs and murals throughout town and creating designs for fabrics at the retail store. Drawing was a side hobby for her, but she normally spent most of her time reading geographical books about the places she couldn't visit.
Returning to the kitchen, she listened for the sound of boiling, yet there was none. Deciding to wait a little longer, she leaned against the tiny, cream-colored counter beside the stove, looking out the window with a hint of boredom.
It was strange though...peering through the glass, she squinted her eyes at a dark figure standing quite a distance away. It could be her father, but why wouldn't he take the main gate into the village? How strange…
The sound of boiling water filled her ears as she glanced down to confirm her assumption. Looking back up however, the dark figure she saw had disappeared…
Scratching the back of her head, she pulled out the dashi and a whisk to prepare for the next step in the process. She had just started to pour the dashi granules in, but she was stopped...
A loud banging on her door entered her ears over the sound of boiling water, and she nearly dropped her utensils on the floor. Her ochre orbs glanced to the clock ticking away silently above the sink…
He's here! A little early, but nearly on time!
With a quick flip of a switch, she turned off the gas oven and smoothed out the creases in her skirt. There was a little skip to her step as her shoes guided her across the wooden floors of her home, making little squeaks with every footfall. Her eyes glanced around the room as her emotions swung wildly; did she dust off the dining table? Did her father still like miso soup? What if he didn't like the decor of her home? What would she do?
She took several deep breaths as she gently placed her hand on the cool, brass knob of her door. There goes her mind...worrying over silly things that were barely even worth it. She was sure her father would be pleased to see how much effort she had placed into her work for him!
With a quick twist and tug, she plastered the largest smile she could muster onto her face.
"Hey, Dad-" the young woman halted mid-sentence as she stared at the man standing in front of her.
This man wasn't her dad.
A cunning smirk was forming on his mouth as he looked her up and down. His blond hair covered one of his teal-colored eyes, but a tone of desire flooded in the one she could see. A husky timbre escaped as he spoke, "What a bang…"
And then she slammed the door shut.
A.N.: And there we have it! I really hope I explained things at least somewhat well...it was hard trying to cover as much information as I could about the background of this story, and I must apologize for throwing all of that information at you! I felt it was necessary in order for the story to have a backbone of some sort, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask. This is my first story and I am rather nervous about how it will be received by you all, so I ask that you leave a review if you have the time! I would greatly appreciate it, but the fact that you read the first chapter of my story is quite endearing and nearly just as good as a review. ^^
Thanks