When Failure Isn't an Option
The Demon's Birth
"This world is completely worthless… there is nothing left in it but misery."- Uchiha Obito
No one was destined to become "evil" or "good", it takes a society and questionable morals to change a person. In terms when someone is particularly mean or impossibly cruel to certain people, they may sway those victims to either put up with it or rebel. I made sure I was no victim, I could not be. I would never allow people to live a world without knowing the pains some people must endure. Aren't I a "good" person?" I must be a saint! Ha what a good laugh. Time is rather amusing; war has yet become a distant memory for me. I feel the need to wake up and shape up the world. God knows that I am twisted and in need for some assistance. As I size up the world and the age of Shinobi I want to scream for a revolution. There must be something wrong with me for loving this golden age of war. Peace was becoming more unrealistic.
That dark shadow that lingered in the forest welcomed me in. I feel the cold anger clutching my throat. My understandings of humanity are being put to the challenge. I want to see them smiling! I want to be surrounding by a mutual understanding that an apocalypse would surly happen. And I want them to know that I was the reason why it happened, I want to be a force to be reckoned.
-The smiling monster
Deep in the Grass Village forest there was faint taping of someone jumping along the trees. It has been a couple of years since the second Shinobi World War has ended. This one person could care less about the relationships between the villages. Right now the person was concentrating on his breathing and his pace. He was in a middle of a mission. He was man of great certainty of his abilities and wise enough to pull out of unnecessary fights; he was true veteran of war. At mid afternoon he knew he would eventually take a break in the nearest village before braving it out again in the forest. Peace was still very foreign for the man.
It was very foreign for many people that were in constant threat of war piling up. After the war was done every Kage told their people to relax. In translation it meant for ninjas to stay alert but in a more hidden way. Ninjas were just tools that were used to keeping to themselves and their problems. They claim their missions and entrust themselves to finish the job. He takes in the warm summer air and peels off his gloves as he descends from the trees. In mid-air he feels another hand over his neck, he flinches but it cut off from air. He is greeted by coal black eyes piercing his soul. His mouth won't make a sound and his eyes bore into the nothingness of his attacker's eyes. The brilliant shock of red gives him only a hint of this future. His hands are tied up and he immediately feels pressure in his back.
He wants to beg for mercy, but for some reason he couldn't handle his capture. Something inside his mind instructed him to fight back; years of training taught him to be a survivor. He flinches from a cold hand in back of his neck, "What do you want from me?" he wants to know if he wronged anybody lately.
There was no verbal response but I chuckle, a deep disturbing chuckle that made the back of his hairs stand up, "D-did I wrong you?" The same hand slithered to his hair a kunai knife was now against his neck.
Silence loomed over them but their breathing ticked his upcoming doom until the voice finally spoke, "Will you smile for me?" he was caught off guard by the question.
He didn't know how to answer and he was silenced by the kunai slitting a little skin off his neck, "Well that's not a pretty smile," he couldn't move now, "Well then let's improve it now then" he didn't like the way that voice rose with a deadly twisted happiness, "Say cheese!"
There was agony; pure anguish that silted through the forest. Red liquid spilled through the green grass and soil of the earth, everything was getting tainted. But then was there anything pure in this world? Humanity was still a sore subject for Benjirou. He never really found out his answer during his stay with the cloaked figure. The wisdom that was given to him did hold some value, and his strength did blossom as his curled smile with every passing victim. Rumors flowed through the nations and he couldn't help but laugh the more people shrieked from his presence. He was alive; he didn't know how to explain it. The warm oozing iron trickled to the grass more as he examined the smile from his victim. He loved to see the open eyes showing fear; he loved the unnatural smile being the more dominate feature from the face. With gloved fingers he traced the slash marks from the face trying to come up with a new signature. He was known for his smiles but what else could he do. He didn't want people getting bored he had people watching out from him. He raised his "smiling" hand and began carving up random figures in the exposed skin. What Benjirou was hoping was with the fresh blood oozing out he would have some inspiration.
From a few birds coming out and investigating the scene he flashed them a smile and chuckled when he smeared some blood on his chin and cheek. They fluttered away knowing he was bad news. Animals were smarter though they knew what Benjirou could do if they allowed themselves to be caught by him. He would admit he experimented with animals but they weren't fun like humans. He loved the fact that he could get away from this. It was almost his own "heaven" to practice in peace and able to create his own truth in this rotten world. He loved the screams some men and women yelled out when he connected his kunai with the faces. He was in control of the whole situation, he was the stronger one and he would get away from it. There was no punishment. That was bliss, no punishment for his actions. The skin was still warm and the body jerked a little, Benjirou then decided to move out and wander deeper in the forest. He had a whole day off to do anything, and right now he wanted to find and create more smiles. This was his life, and he would die with a smile in the very end.
He flickered up the trees with an ease and followed the wind current, the sun was hardly there as the trees compressed themselves and made it so light could no touch the grounds. The air was still warm but it declined the deeper someone went in. The animals were hidden but he could feel them shivering and watching his every movement. They were like the people that he came across with. It had been years since he a normal conversation or be social that it made him wonder if he wanted that again. Conversations were boring and annoying. He believed actions were far louder; it created wars for heaven's sake! But as war came to a close he frowned and whined in the inside, he wanted more death, more understandings for why people sucked. When he would see people mourn he would smile because they could see a hint of humanity being wrong. He missed the cries of people dying, and that only made him, remember about a certain village. He looked down at the small village from the grass lands and then remembered the name of that one village.
"Village of the Bloody Mist." He clearly said the name in a purr. Even the name sounded perfect and…beautiful he thought.
He heard rumors of how people became Shinobi and their exams; they were cruel twisted people like himself, "With death right at your side you must be horrible people." He muttered to himself.
They were examples of people going mad, he understood twisted logic, he knew they respected and joined violence. If they were comfortable with such cruel tactics he wondered if he could get along with those people. The bustling noises of a small village raged and made him remember where he was. He wanted to continue his fun games but the Mist village kept popping up. He wanted the world to go the way he thought the world should worked, but in order for that to happen he would he need followers. In that land the people looked like that maybe he could get along with. It was great that the Land of Water wasn't too far; maybe he would travel there and explore. He wanted to create an era, a new beginning maybe even a revolution. He went up the market section and bought some lunch while he though more about the infamous 'Bloody Mist'. The more he lingered in that fantasy of a controlled world he knew that he had to make it a reality.
He gathered his supplies and went to work as he pulled another victim to the floor; his trusty kunai impaled the smooth skin and created another master piece. With practice fingers he let the blood drop he kept a firm hold the victim when it struggled. His curled smile grew as the victim begged him to stop, but he didn't he went further and further. He allowed the victim to whimper and scream in agony because to him it was payback. The victim was now atoning from his sins. He felt lighter when he knew the sinner wasn't crying from pain, the sinner was finally dead and now being forgotten from this world. It was all in a day's work to make people disappear and make the world one less ugly person to account. Taking in the scene he gathered his instruments with care and bid them ado. He couldn't help but smile his curled smile and laugh. He was having the time of his life when he disappeared in the shadows and heard the screams of the witnesses. The night scene cooled him down to see the sky and stars. He held himself high as he strolled the civilian village, he felt still a little too high from the screaming and blood. The crickets slipped in and the occasional dog barked made him relax, his steps slowed down as he flexed his fingers.
The cool pavement that went straight to the market/ stores center was still bustling with customers. With a hood covering his hair and forehead he went to a random restaurant nearby. He was welcomed by a strong smell of meat cooking and different dishes of fish. He went straight to a small table that was vacant and ordered a small meal. Traveling was beyond fascinating and liberating. There was no Kage to order him around even if he was paid well. He was trained by fellow Shinobi that he knew enough on how to survive and collect pay. This world he was carried to was just fine by the way it allowed him to sign his signature whenever he wanted to. It was also very fun when a few trackers tried to find him and take him down. They were party poopers and were the definition why he left. They could not control him and he would make them smile for sure if they got too close. The village was stupid for have trained him so well; because they made him perfect and he could not be caught. He ordered and ate with an ease and satisfaction. It had been a good day because of what he accomplished so far. Without the people around him knowing it he was cooking up an idea that involved many smiles and blood. He took one last drink before setting off; it was time to make an impact and maybe an era. His lone shadow grew as he passed the ground of this semi-peaceful village. It was time to let his name grow again in fame. It was time to show this god forsaken world how truly ugly they were; after all he wasn't human he was just a monster in their eyes.
His curled smile grew more and more, "Damn I loved the smell of blood and agony in the air…"
…
In my travels in this foreign land I have discovered that mankind is still overbearing. It still creates such horrors that make the devil himself shivers, these people need to realize that I am saving them. They all don't understand my ways; but I see potential in very few people. As I walk away from the flames of Konoha I see the mist clouding my vision. I have come to the conclusion that I must show the world what could happen. I am sad to say that I cannot live forever but where I see potential I can preach my ways and hope for followers to evolve and create a revolution. These lands that I have found to be surprisingly interesting gave me the courage to pursue power to create a safer community; a utopia of some sort. But because of human tendencies that I cannot escape make me hesitant. I do not consider myself fully human that would be an insult to my actions, so I assume a hybrid would be a better choice to see myself I suppose. Even if I want to be fully a monster but in this body that I have I cannot be a full monster only figuratively speaking. I doubt my compassion I hate my heart but I am still a selfish creature that adores the attention I receive with my bloody actions in the fields. It is time to teach a student of how reality works in this universe. I am content with my life; I can feel satisfied with my choice of having an apprentice.
-The smiling monster
It wasn't unusual when time passed and peace was an old tale. In the deep streets of the Village Hidden in the Mist there was a small bundle in the corner of the street. It was just an infant lost and cold and dying. There was no hero that bore his name out loud. The misty climate took care of the weaklings and captured them. Luckily this infant was rescued and taken away from Mist. But it was also taken away from this life and universe. Was it justice to allow this infant death so quickly? Or was it plain sad that it was abandoned so fast? The body was hallowed and one less weak soul was gone. It became another day as the people of this village grew with hate and cruelty. As the day wore on one child that was pale and alone wandered the streets. He only had the clothes on his back and a name. This was enough for him. It was too common to see young children fending for themselves. Spiky black unkempt hair, pale skinny body running through the streets, it was just too common. The people here didn't take notice that soon his name would be known for generations. Only one man knew what would become of him. In the safe shadows he left the boy survive another day without him, because he was interested in his progress and with that he allowed the little boy's small silhouette fade away in the dirty streets of Mist.
In the cold shadows the same boy who we knew grew up a man more twisted as the days progressed. His rich red inferno hair was keep hidden for good reasons. In the bare streets of another shinobi village made him take precaution if case they were smart enough to realize they were harboring a missing-nin from Konoha. He was only known for his sadistic ways of "murder" and his tucked in inferno hair. He was worth a heap of money for his capture or death, but that was to be expected from a missing –nin. Konoha more than anything wanted him dead for disgracing his village and knowledge he still had from them. Taking in the precautions he still couldn't help but feel…flattered that they wanted him dead; it almost made him feel like home. Oh thenostalgia… he couldn't help but suppress the laughter that wanted to invade his lips.
His hands were in his pockets as he started to go down memory lane. The years that went by during his training were hard and very liberating. Because now he knew what his body could handle, he never admitted it to his old shadow but he was grateful for his training. But just as he thought of his old mentor he frowned at his present problem. His old shadow that once taught him was gone planning to create another student. That man was planning for something bigger than world domination he wanted almost something more sinister. During those days Benjirou never asked the man what he wanted he just listened to his training sessions and took in some assassinations to better his honed skills. And as Benjirou grew stronger he thought that maybe he would find something more after his training. However plans changed and soon he was unnecessary. Benjirou knew the reason why he wouldn't be useful to that shadow anymore. Though he was dark enough in the heart he didn't acquire the right blood limit. Instead he was born without any special blood limit to begin with which made him useless and that my dear friend infuriated him. He was never in the position where he was unwanted he had the tools and the right frame to be wanted. But in this case he was unwanted by his mentor.
Though he loathed his birth home he was at least was welcomed. He was shoved into in unfamiliar territory that led him to believe that survival was a top priority. Now in this world he grew up again made him to be a monster again. He didn't mind cold blood murders, he understood them. There was still reason underneath them but in this life he was pushed away by the shadow that understood him. He wanted to trade in the small emotion that quietly made him content with that old shadow. Because he knew how emotions could break a person even a monster. For once he felt not completely alone and now since his blood denied that factor that his old mentor needed and he was thrown away because of it. He was in no way broken but he became just an unnecessary object lying around. He gritted him teeth and his knuckles were white from the force he gave them. He hated that he got comfortable, he wasn't used to it and he hated that he felt jealous for this unknown presence that would take away his mentor. But the more he thought about it he loathed his mentor for throwing him away. His spit in the ground in disgust, he absolutely hated his mentor right now. So then he pushed back his remaining emotions back and began to work out his new plan to save this human race. And in his plan it required an apprentice that would willingly follow his philosophy whole heartily and a few civil wars in between. After all change required some sacrifices.
In the streets of the Mist village there was a comfortable silence as the people were plagued with the mist. It covered the sceneries and the people's moods. His footing was silent because he just wanted to take in the mist, the people and the possibilities he could endure here. He no longer wore that wretched forehead protector since he knew he never belonged there. There was no reason to brand himself of his past's job. It was great to just explore many lands this world had to offer. And in Mist he was happy to learn more about how they trained their Shinobi and to see how different it was from Konoha. It was very exciting to just explore his mind and cultural difference some people had in this region. It was drastic per say but it was different than Konoha.
He tucked in his shirt more as a small shower fell down in the village. This landscape was very refreshing than the usual sunshine swept his old memories in the land of fire. His hood was still over his shoulders since he wanted to feel the water drop on his face, the water was cold and sparked something inside his mind and body. Things were going to change for the better, he just knew it.
It was….human nature, a genetic trait that indescribable feeling… it was this intense action that resurfaced in my own mind. I have craved an attention of some sorts to believe in something bigger than humanity. War was not coming fast enough but the civil wars raging in Mist did. I can understand why people with my genetic make-up (people with no blood limit) believe that those with extra abilities are dangerous. They can be, but it was this gut feeling that they all shared made them all…snap. They were bounded by this clear invisible force of wanting to purify/ cleanse this universe from those people. Were their actions justified? The monster inside me is very thankful to see the familiar red in the earth's fields. But to see these actions again by them spilling blood, it made me see this world is sinful. There will never be peace, because this race will not allow it. If God created this world and the human race, why did he allow this hatred to run in their vines? Why did he show mercy to the sinners? And is he a silent god that does nothing but watch our disputes? War was done, that era was a tale that would soon come again, cries of shame and destruction would rise when I smile, if god cannot stop this madness then I would find someone who would. If I can't find that one then I would play god for second or two. My lullaby is that rush of feeling that gave me that reason to wake up and do something for that wretched race. I am a hybrid a monster born inside this human form. I am not wrong.
-the smiling monster
War is the continuation of policy by other means." - Karl von Clausewitz
Mist was fun; it was exciting to see a completely bloody village in first person. He directed his gaze to the small apartments and stores connecting, there were so many orphans that ran though the streets. With careful movements he looked over to see a young small boy that was in the corner shivering from the light rain. He smiled his curled smile and beckoned the boy when he met his gaze. The black eyes that carefully watched Benjirou's stance were wary but he got up slowly and approached him.
Benjirou laid softly one hand to the little boy's head; "Are you satisfied with humanity?" the little boy narrowed his eyes at the young man but didn't agree. Benjirou laughed softly, "Me too."
He took his hand away from the little boy and started to walk away leaving a confused boy alone in the rain. He kept walking away but he was pleased to see curiosity in the little boy's eyes. Small little splashed that kept following him made him aware that he was being followed, he threw a loaf of bread and heard a soft grunt before he kept walking away. This would take time, making a bond with his future apprentice needed to be strong and right now he was more than willing to stay in Mist. It would be all worth it if the small young boy was naïve and listened to every single word he would preach. And he was right it took just a few more meetings before he got a name out of the little boy's voice.
He was currently sitting down a random bench in a park the misty air was thick but the birds still dutifully sang to proclaim morning had arrived. With his cloak still hiding his locks and eyes the little boy wasn't sure if he was sleeping. But he reasoned that he would not hurt him so he called him softly. He heard the same laughter that made him want to step back but he kept his facial expression the same, "Are you afraid of me?" the man asked.
The small little boy didn't dare look at him but pass him as he answered, "No." but he knew well enough that they both knew he was lying. The small boy was still wary but he pushed that thought to learn a little more about the man we know as Benjirou.
Life in Mist had made the little boy sturdy and quick, "Why are you interested in me?" he felt the man shift his weight in the bench, "You aren't from Mist…but you move like…" he softly said the rest, "like a shinobi."
There was a pause; "I see myself in you." the cloaked man smiled inside the hood. He had half a loaf of bread, "Where does your future lie hmmm…in the dirty streets?" he pointed vaguely around, "Or something else?"
The little boy glared, "As if!" he walked over to the opposite side of the bench, "I'll show the world what I can do as a shinobi." He was very confident of his future being more than a helpless orphan and civilian.
Benjirou was now amused, "And how do you plan to accomplish that?" he was getting more interested in the small boy and wanted to know what the small boy wanted to accomplish in this world. Especially since he was born from blood and chaos, he leaned back into the bench and watched the small boy proclaim his future.
The little boys smiled and revealed razor sharp shark teeth; "By you teaching me of course." he then quickly took the loaf of bread and took a nibble. When he was done he started to talk again, "People will soon know of Momochi, Zabuza!"
Benjirou only smiled in return, because he knew he was right after all. People would soon know of his new student.
…
The days rolled by as Benjirou kept instructing his apprentice of his ways in battle, and just like his old memories of his past mind said Zabuza was a natural. The shinobi instinct was rather embedded in him that it was second nature. Benjirou was very pleased in him mind the way Zabuza climbed the ranks. The boy soon grew out and created his own name and made it in the bingo book just like his master. His master did tell him about being carful around his village in case someone would learn about his master's whereabouts. He was obedient and never talked about him when he roamed the misty streets. His master warned him about the politics being a cause why the world went round and killed many innocent people. Being weak was not an option; it was the very foundation on why corruption thrived. Zabuza grew around the deprived and understood who was a lamb and who was in control. With careful displays of natural talent he was soon reined as a powerful individual that would be perfect for the future of Mist.
His name was appropriate with his skills and aura that he gave. He was simply know as, the Demon of the Hidden Mist. The world knew him by that name that was given to him by the way he presented himself to the world. He was a true example of humanity's darkest forms of evils. He was a Shinobi that was a demon in the field. He was fast and had an aura that screamed to get away. He made his old master proud by his cruelty he displaced in the field, and he made his village proud too. It has been a short few years since he has seen his old master. But he was also comfortable of knowing his old mentor was proud of his accomplishments. Yes, the man was cruel but he made him, Zabuza, stronger and more aware how reality worked when it came down to shinobi living in this universe.
The man was strange in a good way for Zabuza he was very stern and taught him the rules of the shinobi way. He never asked about his master's origins, it didn't matter since the man didn't dependent on his old home. He learned quickly enough to never fully rely on his village especially when he did learn some dark secrets of Mist. On the few rare times he encounters his master he told him of what he learned, his master as usual was not surprised. Mutiny has now threatened to collapse Mist's government as groups of nameless shinobi gathered and destroyed and killed within their village. Civil war was very common in these parts that most people learned to adapt and adjust in these battles. This was why his master preached about the instability humans had inherited when created in this world. With one touch and word humans destroyed anything precious in this universe. His role just like his master was to eliminate those that wronged for so long and show the people what they were creating.
It didn't matter what his village thought if they learned where his true alliance was, it was far too late. As he slips back to his uniform he strolls down the streets he grew up and notice a small shivering boy. It was interesting to see a familiar facial expression on that small child. He was weak by the lack of food given to him as he fought to survive in this terrain. His shadow by then loomed over the shivering boy, the snow was picking up slightly as it was more visible. This boy was the definition of lacking a purpose in this world and would soon be crushed unless he found an anchor to stay alive.
He was slightly annoyed at the increase of self-lacking motivators in this life, "pathetic…wasting away and struggling you will die a premature death fast."
It seemed like it was fate for these to still meet. One chance of walking a familiar route had lead for Zabuza meeting and soon collecting this young boy named Yuki, Haku. It was a mystery, a hidden hope as Zabuza saw something in Haku. It was spark, a desire to also preach a thought that made him to listen in to the boy and see what he wanted to say.
The small boy looked up at his tall stature and had the guts to smile openly at his, "Mister…You had the same eyes as me mister." He had the energy to still lean back to look at Zabuza more carefully.
Zabuza studied the boy slowly before deciding to talk to him again, "Come with me if you want a purpose in life but know this: You will belong to only me, all your strengthens, talents and will. You are a tool for me to use on any means."
The little boy only smiled and followed along his new master, as the idea of having a role again in this world made him happy in mind and spirit.
…
By all accounts Benjirou kept busy and created a legend. As news spoiled around the elemental countries of his students' accomplishments he could only simile his curled smile one last time. In the deep jungles of an unknown island he wondered again to find reason why and how he was transported here. His desire to correct the world was still a flame in his heart, but he was also very happy to have others in the shadows to listen and obey his every commands. A shrill echoed the jungle as he smirked to find a young women being chased by giant creatures.
This is world is only too entertaining, he thought as he watched the scene play out, "Only the strong survive honey…" he whispered out loud.
(5,409 words)
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