"The course of true love never did run smooth." -Shakespeare
It was the darkest hour of the night, when the moon shone faintly through the crooked boughs and dead stillness pervaded the cold atmosphere.
Kakashi's mind, however, was too much occupied to let him sleep, and so he lay the whole night buried in meditation. He kept quite still and said nothing, for intention he had none to arouse the one beside him. Hence, for hours he did not move a muscle and remained completely rigid. A repulsive calmness overspread the surface of his body the longer he was lost in speculation and the limbs slowly grew benumbed by the position within which he rested.
Presently, he heard a slight groan, and he knew it was the groan of human terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief, -oh no, it was the low stifled sound that would arise from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with misery. Kakashi knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when the entire world slept, it has welled up from his own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors of the past and present that distracted and oppressed him.
The samurai listened, in extremity of horror. The sound came again; it was a sigh. With carefulness, he took his arm away from the woman's still body and sat upon the sheets to take a look at her under the feeble light of the moon.
There was a tremor upon the lips when another sigh escaped from the throat. In a minute afterward they relaxed, disclosing a bright line of the pearly teeth. Concern now struggled in his heart with the profound affection which had hitherto reigned there alone. "Tsunade…" Kakashi whispered on low undertone whilst his deep dark eyes sought the signs of alertness on her tensed features.
Upon the delicate frame traces of the profoundest nightmare advanced and the body convulsed in unconscious torpor and the small hands clenched into fists, and the face was tainted with cadaverousness, the longer evil oppressed the soul.
"Tsuna…" Kakashi's low voice echoed in her ears when he called for her again. He laid his hands on her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. "Tsu-…"
Aroused by the touch and burning with the horrors of the mind, she seized, at a single effort, at the throat of the man above her and lunged at him with such force that at length he fell with his back against the futon.
She straddled him, and casted her hazel eyes glowing with red fury at the man. Her soft smile edged into a menacing growl and revealed the sharp set of teeth.
"It's just me, Tsuna." Kakashi uttered on a calm and composed voice and locked his eyes to hers. Elapsed but very few moments indeed which seemed to swell into long irksome hours when the grip around his throat loosened and he gulped in relief.
Tsunade's face softened and regained its original, faultless form, which then grew afflicted with bewilderment. "I am…I am sorry…I-…" She drawled as she hurriedly got off him and pulled him back to sit by her side.
"It could be worse, Tsuna." Kakashi offered a smile in hope to jollify the guilt-stricken spirit, although it was the latest hour of the night and his mind was no new. Thus, he could only bring visions of mischief to the fatigued brain. "I would be much more alarmed if Madara was sitting on me in a loose gown as yours."
"Oh…" Suddenly, crimson rushed to her cheeks and warmed up her whole existence with flushed sensation. "I…I didn't… Dammit." Her slim fingers reached for a soft silken sheet and she shrouded herself from Kakashi's curious gaze.
"You know, hidden things merely ignite wildly flaming visions, whilst the truth pacifies the coveting mind."
"Are you trying to tell me to undress so you will eventually stop staring, or should I keep this around my body so I can feel your intense desire of scrutiny pierce through the garments?" She tilted her head in wonder and her visage riddled with suspicion.
"Whichever pleases you, Tsunade." The samurai smirked with a delightful sigh that escaped through his parted mouth. "I am very pleased by both, if you may be wondering." There was a wicked glint in his eyes as he lay back on the futon, that sinful sparkle flitting across his face she perceived whenever amidst torn garments.
Blush returned to her cheeks whilst she giggled and upon feeling the warmth overwhelm her, she was quick to avert her eyes from him. His plan to ease her mind deemed fruitful as now the young woman was struggling to regain her confident demeanor instead of fighting the soul-seizing visions of her afflicted mind.
Kakashi outstretched his arm and beckoned her to join him. His smile softened at the sight of her as he ventured to speak. "There are still a few hours until sunrise. You should try and get back to sleep."
"And what happens if I attack you again?" Slowly, she turned her head at him yet her eyes dared not look at his face.
"Next time I will keep you atop me. The sight makes up for the little fright."
"Kakashi!" Tsunade's large lustrous eyes narrowed, and her indignation merely grew as she noticed herself redden again. She had but the slightest of control over such bodily reactions when he was around, which put her in torpid uneasiness; she was unsure whether it was normal or not, whether it was allowed or was shameful. "I was being serious…" She sighed whilst she chewed on her full lower lip. Her hazel eyes rested on him yet did not seek his face, for to look upon it filled her with remorse.
"Come on Tsuna. You are not the only one restless at night." He replied with candor that soothed and disquieted the innermost chambers of her heart. Kakashi brushed a golden tendril behind her ear, such a simple act that induced her to look at him.
"Kakashi…" She muttered through her compressed lips and gradually fell back with a shudder upon the sheets from which she had been so startlingly aroused.
"Yes?" The samurai wrapped his arms around her frame and guided the heiress to his side.
For a short interval she pondered what was there to speak, what thoughts should be voiced yet no sound passed through her lips. Her heart pounded in her bosom with the feverish tunes of a hundred drums yet speculations remained unuttered and locked in the cage of the mind. The sudden timidness that took possession of her prevented the woman from expressing, in words, her appreciation of what she might have construed into a compliment.
In the quiet room within the pale moonlight the two gazed longingly at one another and time became semblable to an abysmal infiniteness where seconds bore no importance; it was all but the triumph of stillness.
During the strange anomaly of his existence, feelings could never be of the heart and passions could never be of the mind. Through the gray of the early dawn, among the trellised shadows and in the silence of the moment, he watched her not as the living but as of a dream, not as the being of earth but as of the abstraction of what was divine. He listened to the fierce drumming of her heart and felt his own beating organ match the singular rhythm within.
His lips parted in a smile of peculiar meaning, which she never once received but understood without explanation. At a slow pace, the samurai drew her face nearer to his, until her soft warm breath tickled the cold skin of his chin.
Her mesmerizing eyes closed and she welcomed the warrior's long, deep kiss with an eagerness of a maiden. He tasted like captivating opiate dreams that filled her with vivid visions of lust, the longer his lips lingered on hers.
Her slim frame trailed closer to him, without the intent of doing so, like a snake coveting its prey. She sighed at the sensation, at the comforting closeness which, at the same time, fueled the burning desires within her bosom.
His mouth, the taste of his flesh, oh word of no meaning…! Now, then, did her spirit fully and freely burn with more than all the fires of her own. "Take me again…" She gasped past the ferocious battle of their tongues, merely to voice her heart's true desires.
"Always." Kakashi called aloud upon her name, within the silence of the night, among the sheltered recesses of the room, through the wild eagerness, the solemn passion, the consuming ardor of his longing for her.
"So touch me…"
The samurai was satisfied with the order, and carried it out at once, guiding and traveling his hands upon parts where she only dreamt to be touched by him, again. His reward were soft sighs of blooming pleasure that rose within her bosom and her slim fingers sought entry past the veil of clothes that shrouded his frame. It took but very short elapse of time when at last they lay in each other's embrace divested of garments and lips locked tightly together.
She was glorious in all her bareness, and as spell-bound he was, he coveted her with a greed belonging more to demon than to man. Kakashi laid his firm hand on her, upon the milky thigh of the graceful leg. He grew intoxicated with the scent of the young woman, with the heat of her body, with the salty taste of her skin yet in that moment he was devoid of the charms of sake; it was all but very real.
Unable to help himself any longer, his grip tightened upon her flesh and drew her loin against his own. Amidst legs entangled and chests pressed together, he sank himself into her hot, warm and tight cavern and relished in the excessive sensation of her young, resistant depths. She was the embodiment of every woman he has ever longed for, every woman he has ever dreamt to conquer.
Her body relaxed whilst he indulged himself in the act of kissing her a little longer. The loud tempest within her ribcage aggravated at the sheer sensation he offered as at last he eased himself to the hilt within her and sheathed his member inside the salivating core.
Sensation there was much and pain was but of the spice of the sinful unison. He pounded that delicate place between her legs with long, slow thrusts, and busied his finely sculpted lips upon the ivory skin of the slender neck.
Tsunade's embrace tightened around him as if coveting to draw him closer, yet closer they could not be any better. She shut her radiant eyes in pleasure, and moaned his name like the music of luscious nymphs. For sober she indeed was, the wild sensation was thus similar yet the moment was not; even the littlest of his touch, the quietest of his groan maddened the rhythm of her heart and heated her blood with furtive flames.
She called out to him in muffled whimpers and moans, which thrilled his long repressed thirst even wilder. The unbearable pressure within his aching member pulsated at the promise of release. The warrior's sanity lasted but enough to break the fervent contact of sweating bodies and he released himself from her warm, pungent place and turned her onto her young, curvaceous bosom. Before she could have uttered a syllable, the samurai reclaimed her from behind with one long exhilarating thrust.
Her small fists clenched and squeezed the velvet garments of the sheets and her soft lips compressed the loud cries of perverse thrill. His long arm sealed her body against him as he folded it around her waist and drove himself over and over deeper and deeper within her. She cursed with words alien and incomprehensible and cried and moaned with the sheerest of ecstasy.
His stout body shuddered at the act of release when the samurai filled her raw, and aching depths with the juices of euphoria. Kakashi collapsed beside her and the two lay upon the crumbled sheets still as the grave, and with passions spent.
Small drops of sweat glistened upon his forehead underneath the feeble rays of the awakening sun. The day dawned and the first noises of life came up to their ears; the servants were awakening.
"I have to go." At last, Kakashi broke the obstinate silence of the bedchamber and rose from the futon. "The servants shall rise soon…Stay here, but it is better if we are not so obvious in our actions." He was struck at the supreme stillness which reigned in the atmosphere. For answer there was none, he turned to look at her. She rested on her side, with her head propped up by an arm but he could not see her face.
"Are you-…?" The samurai's mind grew clouded with confusion, as he pondered on the reason of her complete disinterest. No sound succeeded his disturbed inquiry; no sound was emitted in the sullen darkness.
Could it be, by chance, that he has done something he was not supposed to? Did she regret the sudden change of the night? She certainly seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps his sudden leaving was that upset her to quiet resignation. "I don't care what they say, you must really misunderstand…" Kakashi was sitting in afflicted uneasiness that overspread and plagued the innermost chambers of his heart, and gnawed and mangled at the strings of guilt until he was sweating with anxiety. "Tsuna…Hey…"
He could not bear her indifference any longer, and thus he moved to her side and with a slow and careful motion turned her on her back to face him. Kakashi's eyes widened at the unexpected sight, for he found the heiress in a pleasantly deep slumber. Upon her lips feeble beams of smile plastered and faint snoring enlightened the air.
Kakashi lowered his face to plant a kiss upon the forehead with a soft chuckle playing about his mouth. Afterwards, he rose from the sheets and picked up the few discarded clothing. He started on the task of putting them all back on whilst he listened to the sounds outside. Most sojourners shall still be unconscious at this time of the day, perhaps it was but a few servants gathering for the early tasks; that information pleased and eased his mind and at length he parted from the chamber with a last glance at his lover.
Shortly after sunrise, Kakashi found himself at the dining table of richly enameled and massive silver, upon which were a few goblets fantastically stained, together with a miscellaneous desert of dishes. The breakfast served was a wild luxuriance of vegetables and fruits prepared with great exquisiteness leaving no stomach empty.
All around the table sat the samurai in accordance to their title. Lord Mifune seated himself at the head, elevated a little above all his companions. His face was generally pale but no feature, expecting one alone, was sufficiently marked on his visage, it was but the excessively pleased glint in the eyes as he canvassed the variety of dishes.
"Long night, my friend?" Asuma murmured on undertone as he nudged his comrade in the ribs and reached for the small bowl of rice.
"I couldn't sleep. I was thinking." Kakashi replied as he fought to cover the sudden timidity of his heart by the surliness within his voice.
"About what?" Asuma leaned even closer, paying less and less attention to the degree of his voice. "Tell me at least you were thinking about things man do?"
"You mean war?" The silver-crowned warrior cocked a brow in false curiosity, and picked a few raisins from his plate.
"The other thing." He frowned in disbelief.
"Silence, boys." Lord Hiruzen interposed the conversation by smacking his son in the head.
"Sumimasen, tousan.[i]" Asuma murmured, rubbing the back of his head.
Kakashi merely leaned back in his chair with his eyes shut, and amused himself with munching raisins and filliping the stems into a goblet.
But not long were they left in quiet, when another voice broke the composed air, with the cheerful enunciation of words. Shuya smiled with childish candidness as he put down his chopsticks and bowed politely in his seat and said, "When is Tsunade-ryuu coming? I want to play with her, Grampa!"
A sudden seizure of coughing came over Lord Mifune and he was violently hitting his chest to free the breadcrumbs from his throat.
"We will find her when you finished your breakfast, son." Kakashi replied with a half triumphant, half brash smile and shot his gaze towards the elder. So profound came the stillness in the room that one might have heard a pin drop upon the floor.
It was the last straw for the lord. Mifune rose from his seat and with a harsh smashing of his fist upon the dining table, he roared; "Gentlemen, I make no apology for my behavior, because in thus behaving, I am but fulfilling a duty. You are, beyond doubt, uninformed of the true character of the "person", or if you are informed, you may very well agree with me."
Could Kakashi, should Kakashi describe his sensations? …Must he confess that he felt all the rage of the damned? Most assuredly he had little time given for reflection. Many familiar hands roughly seized him upon the spot, and forced the samurai into inability. He appeared to be stifling with passion, and his face was boiling red.
For a short time he remained silent, apparently striving to master his emotions. Having at length seemingly succeeded, he reached for a napkin which rested near him, saying as he held it firmly clenched. "Thank you for the breakfast." After forcing those words through his lips the samurai vacated his chair.
"Where do you think you are going?" Lord Mifune lifted his gaze upon the fuming samurai with the coldness of winter reflecting upon his visage.
Grabbed by the wrist, Kakashi was compelled to stop at the side of the table and answer to the lord's demand.
"I must attend some business. Excuse me." The silver-crowned warrior was not only surprised but exceedingly vexed and incensed at the behavior of the elder, but surprised he was even more at the control of his heart.
Before he was released from the fatherly grip, Lord Mifune pulled him to his face and whispered to his ear, believing that certain remarks were better left between two people. "You are quite aware of our history with demons. Don't make me speak the truth to these people. It is already a shame you are ruining our clan's reputation with some nineteen year old harlot but to mention she is an arch-enemy..!"
In the first excitement of the moment, Kakashi's mind grew blurred with the satisfying visions of sending the elder to the lands of the dead. Upon second thought, however, Shuya was present and aggression was not the way he taught him to handle hardships in life.
"I will make sure to give you a thousand proud clan members, by sleeping with that dragon." Was all he spoke and with a smile, Kakashi left the scene.
Asuma, upon the whole too felt sadly vexed and puzzled, but, at length, he quietly concluded to make a virtue of necessity, to dig with a good will, and thus the sooner to convince the oldest samurai of the fallacy of the opinions he entertained. "Old man Mifune, if I may speak…!" He rose from the table as he began, yet in that very moment of ejaculation of words, an old scroll appeared in his front pocket.
"Yes, Asuma?" Hereupon in utter impassiveness, the lord of the table helped himself to the sake upon the table, and pouring out a bumper he lifted it to his lips.
In unity, the whole group of samurai turned their gaze at the youngest Sarutobi who became nervous at the clumsy situation. Before he resumed, he made sure that the content was what he expected it to be. His hand slipped within the pocket and lifted the ancient paper upwards into his sight. Upon its confirmation, he traveled his eyes back at the company. "I…uhm…I must leave as well." A general pause ensued, and he cleared his throat nervously as he resumed. "It is work, you know…"
"Ah…work… Of course…You may leave now." Mifune smiled and gave his assent in a simple gesture. He placed the goblet coldly on the table, and looked at him in a half pompous stare. "Please, put back that dumpling on the table. I know it is not for you."
This done, and the samurai having been departed nervously, the company turned in profound silence towards the table and finished the breakfast in peace.
Not long afterwards…
"You seem troubled, Hisa." Kushina sat beside her friend after the crowd had subdued in the spacious dining room.
"Didn't you see? Asuma wanted to… Why would he help that girl? Why is everyone so protective of her?"
Kushina could not fall to observe a sudden increase in the nervous irritation of her temperament, and in her excitability by trivial causes of jealousy.
She resumed, and now more fiery. "I cannot fathom, I cannot possibly fathom the root of his actions. First Kurenai, now this damned dragon. And the way he left the table… He has to work? What work? If he is but a simple samurai he had nothing to do. I am afraid that we were right…"
"About what he is?"
Hisana partly arose from the chair, and spoke, in an earnest low whisper. "I…It is absurd…I have never met them. What if we are wrong? I am so confused…If only I felt nothing for him. If only…" But in the chafing of her troubled mind at these unaccountable vicissitudes, there did not fail to be mingled some degree of that nervous anxiety with the fury of that boisterous night none of them dared recall.
"If he is away…We could search his room for evidence…If our theories are proven true, you can move on."
When Kushina said these things Hisana remonstrated, for she knew her well enough to be concerned about the consequences rather than amused of her plan; but she was a fanatic, and found joy in mystery and in mischief driven by curiosity.
Gradually, the longer the Hatake speculated upon the subject, she became infected with the uneasiness which seemed stalking in all corner.
Kushina talked on, however, at great length, about the necessity of certain explorations without which the pacification of the soul could not be wholly successful.
"Search his room?" Hisana furrowed her eyebrows at the thought of it. "It is wrong…It would be wrong of me to do such."
"He doesn't speak to you. What else there is to do? I could guard the door." Kushina furthered with excitement glowing in her wild eyes. "If he is what we think he is…Then you can make him confess. Come on Hisa. Come on, let's do it while the others are out training."
Hisana hesitated for an unmeasured interval of time, yet she soon subordinated all her fears to the growing curiosity and fascination. Her hand reached for the goblet in front of her, within which fresh sake rested and swallowed the drink unhesitatingly. "All right. I guess we could do that." Added she and wiped her lips dry.
Asuma's bedroom was a large southwest chamber, which overlooked the frosty front garden on one side, while its west windows, before one of which he had his desk, faced off from the brow of the white hill and commanded a splendid view of the lower town's outspread roofs and of the mystical pale sunsets that flamed behind them.
Carefully locking the door on the inside, at length the two commenced a vigorous search in the dark chamber. It was possible, they thought, that concealed in some obscure corner, or lurking in some closet or drawer, might be found anything to please their elevated inquiry. For them, it could be an ancient, ragged scroll, or it could even be anything with a tangible form.
As for Hisana's part, she strongly held herself to the theory that invisible things were the only realities, and this, all would allow, was a case in point. Long and earnestly did the two continue the minute investigation, but the contemptible reward of their industry and perseverance proved to be only a volume of swinish books, a demolished bottle of sake and an old pen.
Their exertions, as it was previously mentioned, proved fruitless. Closet after closet, drawer after drawer and corner after corner were scrutinized to no purpose. At one time, however, Kushina thought herself sure of her prize, having, in rummaging the samurai's bed, accidentally been found pieces of a torn garment.
"This makes no sense…" Remarked the redhead warrior as she was hurriedly throwing the clothes back into the drawers.
"It does. We have but the slightest of idea for what we are looking." Hisana sighed as she at last, given up on the investigation, sat at the edge of Asuma's futon. "I cannot believe we did this."
Kushina fell beside her friend with the same remorseful sensation burning within her soul. "Indubitably the man is sly as a fox."
"And we are acting as some dumb royal wench." Hisana narrowed her eyes as sudden waves of chagrin afflicted the chambers of her bosom. "I should have let it go. Kurenai has returned with the group anyway."
"I didn't see her at the table today. And she is not here either." Kushina furthered as she patted her chin ponderingly.
"There are many things we do not know. I do not know what has happened between them. But most certainly I had no right to break into his room." Shortly afterwards her remark, the cadaverousness of her face diminished and wrinkles of a different nature lined her young visage.
The thought of mystery put her at once into a pitiable state of agitation. "In all honesty, I do not know what he has turned out to be, and as I look at my brother I feel the same. I have been away from them for too long…The only thing I do know is however, that both are making a huge mistake."
"What do you mean?" Kushina turned her gaze towards her friend as she wondered.
"The dragon. Just thinking about her I feel so…enraged." She spoke with her hands clenched in fists. "They both like her. They are upset when she is mistreated. That damn, treacherous beast. Spirits ruined our family once; I will not let it happen again. Just who the hell does she think she is?"
On the other side of the locked door, Tsunade could sense the Hatake's enflamed spirit shared by her friend as they prolonged their discussion in disdain towards the subject. Eavesdropping was not her habit into which she frequently committed herself, yet she could not stop herself from listening to the irksome melody that emanated past the locked entrance.
Just what Hisana now wished of her she could only guess, but that the samurai had some stupendous secret or discovery to impart with the other in the room, Tsunade could not doubt. She had been thus occupied for some minutes, listening to the loathsome conversation.
"What is your business with that two, if I may ask?" Suddenly, from behind, a voice came up to her ears and the heiress turned in slow motion.
Lord Mifune was a nonchalant man at first impression. He was not at all nervous and she would believe that in fact he never had any nerves. He was never seduced into a flurry. He was never put out unless put out of doors. He was cool, cool as the touch of the grave and he was calm, calm as a corpse.
"I…I have no business with them, Mifune-dono. I was looking for Asuma…I mean Asuma-sama." She corrected herself quickly and bowed in front of the elder.
Tsunade struggled to reason off the nervousness which suddenly had dominion over her. She endeavored to believe that much, if not all of what she felt, was due to the bewildering influence of the gloomy character of the man in front of her. But all her efforts deemed fruitless. An irrepressible tremor gradually pervaded her petite frame the longer the elder observed her quietly and, at length, there sat upon her very heart an incubus of alarm. "Mi-Mifune-dono… please pardon me for the question but I must ask… What is the reason of your dislike towards me?" She repeated the bow upon finishing the utterance of the question.
"We all have different reasons." He began without the slightest of elevation perceived in his voice. "However, I believe I can make you understand a part of it. Follow me." Mifune responded with a grave countenance, and motioned her to obey his orders.
Abased, humbled to the dust as she then was, she nodded in the positive and accompanied the lord of the Palace.
He led the way into his own study, which was on the eastern part of the Palace, and next to the library. Upon entering, he closed the door and beckoned her to sit. She thought she had never seen a nicer little room than the one in which she now found herself. It was about ten feet long, and had one bed of carved oak, which appeared wide and convenient.
In that portion of the closet there was a space containing a table, a chair, and a set of hanging shelves full of books, chiefly books of folktales and travels. There were many other little comforts in the room, at which the young woman curiously gazed.
"Here." He began, shaking the girl out of the trance. He handed her a volume and asked her to look over some portion of it.
Tsunade did so, but to little purpose, not being able to gather the least particle of meaning. However, after a tiresome harangue in his ordinary style, he took down from his book shelves a number of musty volumes on the subject of mythology, and after drawing his old chair to its customary station by the window, he entertained her for a long time with the books' contents. Indubitably, there were some subjects upon which he took pleasure in being minute.
He requested her attention particularly, and with an air of mysterious sagacity, Lord Mifune read aloud, and commenting earnestly as he kept on reading.
No one else shared the room yet she could hear the creaking of signs in the wind outside. She thought the room and the books and the stories very morbid and disquieting but because she longed to learn the truth of hidden tales, Tsunade tried to listen, and soon became tremblingly absorbed by something the elder said in that accursed book he was holding; a thought and a legend too upsetting for sanity or for consciousness. She shivered when she fancied she heard the closing of one of the windows, as if it had been stealthily opened.
After that, she lost the feeling of nervousness, and was listening intently and shudderingly whilst the old man kept on reading aloud. It was certainly an agitating waiting, and the blasphemous book in his hands made it doubly so.
A consciousness of the entire and terrible truth flashed over her soul as the minutes prolonged and a voiceless gasp parted her lips.
She was far from home, and the spell of the past was upon her. In the pale sunlight she fancied she heard it pounding on the rocks, and she knew it lay just over the hill where the twisting trees writhed against the clear sky.
"Having, thus, made a country from what had formerly been no more than a mere floating mass, the two Deities, Izanagi and Izanami, watched over the world in peace.
It was not a long interval, when Izanami's greed sprung within her bosom, and concluded that her brother's affection resided not with her but with the mortals he created. With bitter wrath, her eyes fell upon the world where peace reigned and reigned alone. She praised and fed the youkai she made, in order to decrease the number of man, yet all was in vain when they were taught to fight against the beasts.
In a fit of uncontrollable jealousy, she stood sobbing at the head of her shrine. Her hot tears fell like hailstones, and lo! more demons were born. But soon, corpses shrouded the rich greenness of the lands and rivers swelled up with decaying meat. From these bodies and floating souls within the air was born the god of Death, she named Shine-kami.
Izanami, upon beholding the creation of her envy and hatred, fell in love with the god in an instant. The Deity, to express her awe towards the God, built an altar for Shine-kami and adorned it with the bones of the dead. As Izanagi's shrine looked down on the world, she decided to have the temple emerge from the darkest depths of the earth, and thus named it Yomi, or Hell.
Shine-kami returned the morbid affection of the Deity, and their first-born proved to be Orochi-maru, the eight-headed and eight-tailed serpent-dragon.
Not long afterwards their unison, the two parted to the Nether lands, leaving the task of creation to Izanagi alone.
After the parting of his sister, Izanagi was now quite alone in the world. Unable any longer to bear his grief, he resolved to go down to the Nether Regions in order to seek for Izanami and bring her back, at all costs, to the world. He started on his long and dubious journey.
Many millions of miles separated the earth from the Lower Regions and there were countless steep and dangerous places to be negotiated, but Izanagi's indomitable determination to recover his sister enabled him finally to overcome all these difficulties. At length he succeeded in arriving at his destination. Far ahead of him, he espied a large castle. "That, no doubt," he mused in delight, "may be where she resides."
Summoning up all his courage, he approached the main entrance of the castle. Here he saw a number of gigantic demons, some red some black, guarding the gates with watchful eyes. He retraced his steps in alarm, and stole round to a gate at the rear of the castle. He found, to his great joy, that it was apparently left unwatched. He crept warily through the gate and peered into the interior of the castle, when he immediately caught sight of his sister standing at the gate at an inner court. The delighted Deity loudly called her name.
"Why! There is someone calling me," sighed Izanami, and raising her beautiful head, she looked around her. What was her amazement but to see her brother standing by the gate and gazing at her intently! He had, in fact, been in her thoughts no less constantly than she in his. With a heart leaping with joy and jealousy, she approached him. He grasped her hands tenderly and murmured in deep and earnest tones: "My dear sister, I have come to take thee back to the world. Come back, I pray thee, and let us complete our work of creation."
"I cannot do that, brother." Replied she on a tone suddenly cold of all loving emotion. "Thou hast come too late. I had chosen the path shared with Shine-kami, and wish to rule here in the Underworld."
"But why, my dear sister? Come back, I wish thee with all my heart."
"How much I appreciate thy devotion!" Praised Izanami. "But remember thy love shared with those of mortals. I shan't bear such blasphemy! Thou shall love me only and I shall do the same." Forgetting the vow they had once made to each other upon the creation of the world, a ghastly change came over her.
She, who had been so dazzlingly beautiful was now become naught but a living corpse in an advanced stage of decomposition. Upon her forehead a third eye opened whilst the other two slowly rotted away, the eye of violet glow called the Rinnegan. "I shall watch over thou, brother. And once thou forget me, I will make you remember through my wrath I cast upon humanity." Cursed she in a low, queer voice.
Having the quest thus been concluded futile, Izanagi returned to his shrine and wept for thirty days. From his tears the first drops of rain were born and the two gods of weather arose. He named them Fuujin and Raijin, and later created the deities of Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi whom he called the Four Heavenly Kings.
The Four Heavenly Kings, each of whom watched over one cardinal directionof the world. On the 8th, 14th and 15th days of each lunar month, the Kings sent out their messengers to see how virtue and morality were faring in the world of men. Izanagi also brought four guardians to life who watched over the King's temples and kept his sister's bloodthirsty children away.
Raijin,the chief of the four kings and the protector of the north possessed the five-clawed dragon named , who aided the growth of goods, guarded the south part of the world with Suiryuu, the four-clawed dragon. The king of the east was named Amaterasu and watched over the world during the day. He was addressed as the king who upheld the realm and possessed the dragon of three claws named Kiryuu. Tsukuyomi saw though the moon's pale eye and protected the western lands of the world with Touryuu, the two-clawed dragon.
Izanagi's joy in seeing the world fall into peace and balance could not last longer than a few long decades, when, Izanami rose from the Lower Regions of the earth with an army of children who consisted both of oni and youkai. The malformed beasts lunged at men and crawled and mangled at the human meat.
Other children of Izanami rose from the Yomi who reaped the souls and put them in eternal nothingness and thus restored the balance upon the world. To Izanagi's gravest despair, the Four Heavenly Kings were conquered by the serpent-dragon Orochi-maru and were locked up within four heavenly cages, unable to guard men from below. Their powers were shared among the bravest of men who stopped the youkai and aided in the restoration of peace."
Here, Lord Mifune paused for a second and turning to a passage specified, he read it with great care to himself.
"The dragons decided to keep their promises to their kings after the first war on earth, except Raijin's; Hiryuu, becoming possessed by blind rage of injustice, scorched the lands of the south until the soil grew dry and life dispersed in smoke. Izanagi sought to heal the wounds of earth and sent eternal winter on the suffering lands. Izanami returned to Yomi to his beloved in content and left her most precious son to guide those mortals who began worshipping her, called the dark lords.
For another few hundred years, silence fell over the lands and stillness reigned there alone, until the War of Creation with its bare feet has stepped at the door."
So she listened to that hideous chapter, and shuddered doubly because it was indeed not new to her. She had seen it before, let dreams tell what they might; and how vividly she had seen it was best forgotten.
The rays of the newly risen sun poured in upon the whole, through windows and as the heiress glanced out, the white lands of cold came into her view.
"They believe that there is only one host for a spirit, one that can contain its power without being consumed by it. The fact that you are able to control the five-clawed dragon does not leave much doubt about you being one of them." The elder rose from his chair and restored the volumes to the shelves. Then, he turned to the heiress and gave voice to his final thoughts about the matter.
"And that is why, I will not protect you. I will not share my respect nor will I trust you. By nature, you and the spirit are powerful, impulsive and reckless. I am aware of the things you have done for this family, especially for Shuya-kun. But that is not enough. I suggest you live up to the name you have been given or our ways will part on the battlefield."
There was a slight alteration upon his rigid expression, a faint glimpse of passion that for a brief moment of time overwhelmed and enflamed his ancient spirit. Tsunade know well that he was a highly influential character and with powers yet unknown and unimpaired, even to her. She swallowed her pride and bowed deeply in front of the old man.
"I spoke too much. I must prepare for my daily businesses to attend. Please leave and stay in your room. Your presence around merely excites unneeded attention." Mifune added and lifted his slim, osseous finger towards the door.
"Thank you, Mifune-dono." As etiquette would necessitate the gratitude even in the most ungrateful times, Tsunade uttered those words in a forced composure and at length vanished from the study.
She felt suddenly smitten with a passion for screaming, yelling and simply acting as a spoiled brat after being unjustly scolded.
Embittered, she strolled on the staircase and headed back to her room through the long and narrow hall with her heart ablaze and mind fuming with pure anger. Who did he think he was, that old man of a joke? How dare he order her to anything? He shall be the one seeking her respect and not the other way around! Clouded by the avalanche of soul-stricken thoughts, she was only halted by someone else's body upon bumping into him by accident.
"Ah, Lady Tsunade! I am sorry, I was just…" Dan looked around as he wished to quickly investigate the circumstances. "I was just standing here alone…Completely still…"
"It is my fault, it is mine…I wasn't paying attention." She drew a deep sigh and wiped the thick tears of indignation from the eyes.
"Is everything all right, Lady Tsunade?" He wondered upon a minute scrutiny of her sullen features.
"No, Dan-sama…I…I don't know what these people think! All of them are so pompous, they judge without bothering to care! Talking about respect and titles! They are nothing compared to me and my family!"
"Lady Tsunade…" Dan uttered on an anxiety filled tone, and reached his hand out to her but she was quick to push it away.
"I am not finished!" She fumed as she resumed. "These people think they are the owners of the world, they are no better than Madara! They should be called Uchiha!"
"Lady Tsunade….I sugge-…"
"I said I am not finished!" Tsunade folded her arms. "Holding a grudge over the past, who does that? If they want to hold a grudge I will give that old geezer a reason, just watch me!"
Dan this time said nothing but merely took a step backwards. As ill-luck would have it, Tsunade did not detect a third's presence in the heat of the moment and thus vented her rage to a small company she would have wished never to include. Upon its horrifying realization, a sudden air of cold chilled her and shiver rushed down her spine. Slowly, and in the blackest convulsion of nervous despair, she turned on her heels to find the familiar figure standing patiently behind her.
"Ka-…Kakashi…" sweat glistened on her forehead as she forced those syllables past her throat. She was also certain she would faint, if not right then and now, then never.
"Tsunade-sama." Kakashi offered a polite bow and lifted his gaze at the man beside her. "Dan-sama, do you have time for the…thing?"
"The thing?" Dan cocked an eyebrow as he was slow to catch up with the secretive talk.
"The stuff…with the thing…" Kakashi narrowed his eyes as if to mesmerize some sense into his comrade.
"The stuff…with the thing…The stuff…Ah!" Dan's eyes widened in recognition and a usual smile spread over his face. "Of course! Yes! Let's do it now! I love the stuff! With the thing!"
"Enough." Keeping his sight strictly averted from the heiress, the slant-eyed warrior grabbed the other by the arm and raced to escape from the scene.
In torpid uneasiness Tsunade watched the two rifle away from her, as if rushing from the embrace of Plague. With lips compressed and her heart clenched into a tight knot. She stood there still for an unknown interval of time, the vivid recollections of her impetuous words ringing in her ears.
Amidst many things in that day, what she hated most was the fact that the elder's curses were true, that she was in any event an impulsive, reckless brat and not at all enough of a chiseled character to gain anyone's respect. "Dammit."
[i] "Sorry, dad"