Hello guys. Feel free to skip past this and read the quote, then read the chapter if you want. The updates for this story should be more regular now-if you've been chomping at the bit for a new chapter, they'll be coming now...For any and all updates on future stories I may write, current stories, and updates, for any stories-just look at my profile and I'll have information there...Which I have to update now that I think about it...So, I will go and do that...
"No one cared who I was until I put on a mask."
Obito Uchiha
The Water damiyo's navy, fleet, and army were spread out all along the coast on either side of where he kept his focus pinned, for as far as the eye could see. The Monsoon damiyo, Hurricane damiyo, and Island damiyo's navy, fleet, and army were spread out even further, spacing out through the treacherous ocean as opposed to fighting on the trap ridden land. With little fear and utterly savage, the Kaguya trudged their way through the treacherous tides, spearing into the middle of the ranks, roaring in ecstasy, their bones jutting out as long as some blades were. The savage clan wore steel headgear and body armor, with small, circular shields strapped at their hips, chest, shoulders and triple plated steel sections for protecting their backs.
The Hoshigaki, Biwa, Kuriarare, Kurosuki, Akebino, and Hozuki, bearing down their own attacks, were spaced evenly down their lines to achieve maximum protection once the cataclysmic attacks were launched.
Like tanks, the Munashi, Suikazan, Momochi, and Ringo lumbered amidst all of the fleets, clans, as well as the bombarded land with their own attacks, and the coast shook with the weight of their battle.
At the head of the chaos and armies rode the Water damiyo and his command unit, the flags of the country and the other flags of the clans belonging to the country whipped and slashed at the end of long poles. The armies crested a rise, a great, rolling wave, and on a hand signal from the leader of the Hozuki, drew to a halt. Across a long, shallow depression, their positions secured on the next ridge over, a portion of the Kaguya, Water damiyo, Monsoon damiyo, and Hurricane damiyo forces waited. Lines of armored men and crude rifles formed the first ranks, spread out over a distance of more than six miles, while Samurai and cannons formed the second rank, armor plating and weapons gleaming.
Trailing the smaller boats were the huge ships of damiyo, massive wooden bodies that plowed through the treacherous waters. It took many people to control the massive ships, devoid of any emotion, they were trained to remain in their position or to fight until the boats themselves were destroyed.
Danzo stared at the great armies in slight awe. On their own, each individual force on his homeland's coast was impressive and more than enough to begin a conquest, but combined their numbers and sheer enormity eclipsed any possible words. There were hundreds of thousands, made of flesh and blood, and they would eventually react to the terrible roil of battle as anyone with sense would.
It made his spine shiver to think such conquests were about to happen on his homeland.
The Water damiyo's force were getting in place now, and the kaguya made their charge. The air screamed to life with malicious chakra, and a pulse of red light arced from the Kaguya atop one ruin to the Water damiyo's army on the next, the blood shot beam widening and broadening as it grew in size to encompass the whole of the coast until each soldier, shinobi, boat, and piece of sand was safely enfolded.
The coloring of the malicious light changed from red to translucent, shimmering like a mirage in a desert.
The feeling in the air was hard to describe, but it was similar to being swallowed in a dark, lukewarm sea. They were all quick to test the effectiveness of their killing methods against each other. On a signal from a commander, who in turn was responding to a command from the control center, the first and second ranks opened fire, their cannons sending round after round into the covering. Searing beams of fire hammered into the earth and ruins, shattered effectively against the ragged surface, unable to penetrate.
Astride a branch, Danzo grimaced and squirmed nervously, muttering his observations about the destruction he was certain would find him if he had been even half of a mile closer. Relentlessly, the cannons continued their attack, streamers of fire lancing from their barrel mounts, pounding at the land and bodies. The flash and burn and explosions were all blinding and deafening, drowning out the agonized screams, but everyone held their ground.
Finally, the guns and cannons went still. Try as they might, neither faction, country, or clan could not break through the brutal front. Within his protective canopy, Danzo kept himself as stoic as possible, but still brandished his weapon-a kodachi. He held his breath, watching the Hoshigaki and Kaguya withdraw, and the massive transports from the water advancing to the fore. The cracks in the boats finally opened, widening to reveal a cluster of racks mounted within. The racks rolled forward across the beach, revealing row after row of their ranks. As the last of their transports finally gave way, they began to throw themselves to the beach and separate outward, filling the open space in front of the transports with thousands of their own.
Positioned at the forefront of their armies, the Hoshigaki leader, and his commanders exchanged wild, crazed looks. The Kaguya leader, and his commanders howled in a frenzy of blood thirst. The ranks began to spread out, moving in unison into standing positions, their hands reached back over their shoulders to pull free the massive, saw-blade sword which each Hoshigaki was equipped. On command, the entire array began to charge towards the rest of their armies and each other, bright steel and anguished cries filling the coast from horizon to horizon.
In the water, right on the coast and miles away, the battle between the Water damiyo's full force and the other nearby countries' navy was fully joined. Everyone was leaping and swinging from boat to boat by ropes and small, tassel-like extensions of rock. They battled back and forth, and those fortunate enough to land within a boat, and not in the crimson water, were locked in close combat, a tangle of bodies, blades, and explosions. The blitzing barrage from the Monsoon, Hurricane, and Island countries still held the Water damiyo's navel fleet at bay.
Only the soldiers, samurai, and shinobi under his rule or employ had broken through with transports, ships, or something to that was enough to get across the treacherous water to the coast, but there were many more of them than there were of the Hozuki on the coast, and the commanding officer of the clan had committed all his reserves to the continuing struggle. The leader of the Kaguya clan, Suikazan clan, Kuriarare clan and the Akebino clan fought at the center of the increasingly tumult maelstrom, wielding broken spears and swords clubs, wheeling and stumbling, careening wildly into the heart of the shock waves.
Caught up in the torso of an Imperial soldier he had throttled with his blade the leader of the Akebino could not manage to free himself from the dying man, and so he was dragging the man with him as he went. The soldier, still operating on instinct alone, despite the loss of blood, was swinging his broken sword continuously as the ruthless leader whipped him this way and that, finding Imperial and Kaguya targets more often than Hoshigaki and Ringo, cutting a swath through the swelling ranks of enemies and allies alike.
"This is getting out of hand." Danzo muttered, barely able to refrain running into the melee and begin swinging his kodachi and fought to down to his last in order to vanquish these barbarians. When he finally broke away from the chaos and was able to sheath his sword, remaining calm, he was left standing in a wide open space that everyone on both sides was trying desperately to avoid.
For a moment, Danzo just watched.
Then a cry went up. "
"Charge! Charge!"
Inspired troops rallied around and pressed ahead once more, sweeping the landscape along in a wild and unexpected counterattack from all directions. But, the Water damiyo, unlike the Gungans, had other weapons left to call upon. He did business with outside nations and countries. A loyal general, responding to orders from the command station, unleashed a hailstorm of cannon fire. The troops on the ground unleashed barrage after barrage of gunfire. Down the long ditches and trenches they ran, across the ruins, over the bodies of shattered soldiers, and through the streaks of fire flying overhead. Giving into battle, they began to advance through the carnage, all soldiers from all sides went down in broken heaps, but others moved quickly to fill the gaps in their lines, slowing the advance, fighting to hold their ground.
Back and forth the battle raged, the outcome undecided.
The coast of the Fire country was a cauldron of battle. From his observation post just off the branch of a tree near the tenth level from the canopy, Danzo swept the landscape with his sight and perception. Thousands of boats, all varying in size lay in ruins only a few meters away, but the fools had learned the lesson that the trap would rightfully teach; their next attack brigade were rabid self-motivators that automatically followed orders when the signals were given off, carrying out only one order.
Apparently that order was to storm the coast and kill anything that moves in sight, despite the fact the traps continued to fire off like machine gun fire beyond their ranks, blasting those who continued to climb up the coast. And they were doing a good job of it, too for what it was worth. Half the landscape was rubble, ship debris, bodies, and the rest was a firestorm of damiyo soldiers, shinobi, and the cavalry of water nations around the Fire country, and just when Danzo was thinking how things were shimmering down, several metric tons of destruction hurtled from the sky from the ocean, and hit the deck of the command battle ship close by hard enough to buckle the floors beneath it.
Danzo looked to his side. "Ajo-sama. I am glad you could join me one last time."
"Young Danzo." The wily Shimura said with a nod.
He was still scanning the raging battles around them. The warships from surrounding nations and the Water country's own continued to bombard the coast and each other with crude artillery barrages and cannons, sending fire and smoke in climbing towers. The clans that managed to make landfall, along with any Imperial soldiers were swept up in fire and shrapnel. The Kaguya and Hoshigaki and their crude paddle boats continued to remain in the center of the tsunami of battle, rocking up and down as much as the violent tides.
"Did you contact Daishiro with the recent news?"
Ajo shook his head, carefully looking over the insignia of the countries and clans currently battling. "I didn't have to, you know that Danzo."
Danzo looked away from him. "Are you all right, sir? You look surprised."
The older man wiped away some of the snow and sweat that smeared his face with the sleeve of his robe. "That tyrant and those mad clans are finally here...It is happening now."
He waved out at the coast growing in tumult.
"Our traps are doing their job...However, we still have a battle to win it would appear. All the players are making themselves known." Danzo said.
"Then I suppose you'll be wanting this to win the war within." Ajo said, holding up a document. "I believe you dropped it."
"Ah, yes." Danzo gently took the scroll, and when he looked up at Ajo again, Danzo could swear the man was about to go mad, just a bit.
"We walk different paths after today, but you can't let those Senju or any single one of their pupils or prospects have their way." Ajo grinned.
"Is that encouragement?"
"More of a warning."
Danzo was intrigued. "Meaning."
Ajo shook his head. "You will find out one day, since you said that. Shimura will always hate Senju, no matter what Danzo. Don't ever forget that. I'll be going now."
He vanished in a flash of speed.
A silent buzzing vibration came from a compartment concealed within his armor. Danzo frowned. That concealed compartment held a secure link to his clones, which was a link connected to a channel of chakra reserved for the clones only. Danzo nodded, tapped into the link, and triggered it. A clone appeared beside him, wearing a thick robe with a baggy hood.
"It is time. The navies and armies are all making headway." The clone said.
Danzo nodded, handing the clone a massive scroll-five feet wide, ten feet thick, and eight feet tall-he handled its weight easily. "Be careful. Do not stick around when you set it off."
"It will be done." The clone vanished.
Danzo concealed the link and frowned down toward where several Hozuki, Kaguya, Akebino, and other soldiers charged selflessly heroic battle.
It was a clone.
The clone would execute his order faithfully, without hesitation or regret.
"Would it have been too much to ask for the Water damiyo himself to make landfall when the traps went off?"
Well, it wasn't like everyone wasn't prepared for the crazy bastard. With that in mind, Danzo flashed away.
He had a report to give.
Someone knocked softly at the door of his chamber.
It was well after mandatory curfew. None of the apprentices, students, or kids had any reason to be in the halls or walking around the compound so late at night. He could think of only one person who might be wandering the halls at this hour.
Leaping from his bed Syrus crossed the floor in one quick stride and opened the door. He quickly masked his disappointment at seeing Aiko standing beyond the threshold.
The older man stepped through the open door without waiting for an invitation, and gave Syrus a nod that told him to close it once he was inside. Syrus did as he was bidden, wondering what the purpose of the unannounced late night visit was.
"I have something for you." The elder man, brushed away the folds of his kimono and reached for the sword under his obi.
No, it wasn't Aiko's blade.
The handle of Aiko's weapon was noticeably longer than most, allowing him to wield it freely with both hands, one to power each stroke. This handle was smaller, and it was fashioned with a small curve, giving it a slightly arced appearance, and the blade had a slight upward curve near the hilt, as opposed to a downward curve common to most blades.
Aiko slowly drew it from its sheath, its single blade burned brightly. "This was the weapon of my great-great grandfather. As a young child I would watch for hours as my great-great grandfather and great grandfather performed their drills, and my earliest memories are of dancing, burning blades moving through the sequences of battle."
"What about your parents?" Syrus asked, tilting his head slightly.
Aiko shook his head. "My parents were in battle a lot of the time being elite kenjutsu masters. Even though I was barely old enough to stand, my grandfather, and his father, could sense the chakra in me. He took me, to raise me as his apprentice."
"What happened to your parents?"
Aiko crossed his arms over his chest, giving a slight shrug. "They were powerful in their own right, my father was an expert two sword style practitioner and my mother used the short sword. It was said that when my mother would set for attack, all one could see was the flash of her blade...However, they didn't have a connection to chakra...For them it was more of a tool to be used. So my great-great grandfather saw no reason to bestow them with the wisdom he bestowed on me. Like many from back then, and those old generations, they died in war...And so they were left behind."
Syrus was struck by how calmly the man spoke. In a way his apathy was understandable. He'd known his parents, he had emotional ties to them, good or bad, but the era they grew up in didn't permit a long and fruitful life.
One always had to have resolution to just not die, but to accept that those closest would die as well.
Syrus briefly wondered how his own life might have been different if he had been raised by someone else other than his parents. If Hijikata or one of his uncles had been killed in the mines the Inuzuka had been making decades ago, when he was just an infant, would he still have ended up here, as leader of the Subatsu, and a coming coalition?
Would he have joined the Senju clan like he had, would he have helped and trusted Hashirama as he had during that time of alliance?
Would he have considered Hashirama a friend?
"My great-great grandfather...He was immensely adept in the arts of double sword combat-a skill he passed to me fully. He taught me how to use two swords in unison, though as you know, he preferred a more traditional two handed, one sword style and design for himself. Except for the handles, of course. He had to modify the entire hilt and the components therein."
The blade flickered out of existence as he sheathed it swiftly and handed it to Syrus, who carefully accepted it, wrapping his hands around the slightly hooked handle, giving a bow of proper respect to Aiko and the sword itself.
"It feels strange and unfamiliar..."
Aiko nodded at the statement, accepting Syrus's mutter of discontent. "You are used to the katana, nodachi, and that rather cumbersome blade that Daiki broke in that battle. This requires a minor variation in your grip that will take some getting used to. You hold it more in the palm, farther away from your fingertips."
Syrus did as instructed, letting his body grow accustomed to the odd heft and balance of the new blade, his mind already beginning to run through the implications of the new grip. It would give him more power on his overhand strikes, side strikes, more precision on his thrusts, and it would change the angle of the attacks by the merest fraction of a degree.
Just enough to confuse and disorient an unsuspecting opponent.
"Some techniques will of course be more difficult with this particular weapon because of its handle, but many other techniques you will find are far more effective. With your creativity I am certain you will be able to create new techniques with this very blade. In the end I think you'll find this blade, and a two sword style will suit your personal style quite well. That fight with Daiki should have taught you about the gaps and reading between the field of energy."
"You're giving this to me?" Syrus asked incredulously.
"You proved you were worthy of it standing over the funeral of the young who were killed with a stoic resolve despite the churning emotions that burned beneath the surface...As any leader should. Sending the messages with Haji proved you are worthy." There was a hint of remorse in the elder's voice.
Syrus slowly drew it, listening to the crisp exit of the blade.
He performed a few simple flourishes, then abruptly sheathed it once more. "Do Jime or the other elders approve of this?"
"The decision is mine, not Jime's, and no one else's. I haven't held on to this blade for ninety or more years just so Jime or one of the other stubborn younger geezers can decide who I give it to. My great-great grandfather was a maverick and he always forged ahead on his own path-just like you. He lived to the ripe age of one hundred and twenty."
Syrus answered with a respectful, low bow, fully aware of the great honor that Aiko had just bestowed upon him.
He ventured into uncomfortable silence, deciding to split it.
"Your great-great grandfather gave you this when he died?"
"I took it when my grandfather fell in battle. My great-great grandfather died in a great battle despite being ancient, passing this blade onto my great-grandfather, who fell in a battle four decades after inheriting this blade. My grandfather took it and stowed it away."
Syrus was so stunned that he couldn't cover his reaction. Aiko saw it and only tilted his head slightly in observation. "I had learned everything I could from the Subatsu Masters back then. As strong as they were, as strong and ferocious as their chakra was...I was stronger. As skilled as my great grandfather and father were with the blade, I surpassed them."
"Did you kill a relative over this blade?" Syrus asked.
"Only one. However, he became hubris and believed he could dictate certain lives and assume absolute control of the Elemental Nations. This was before more sensible leaders rose to power and the Council itself was just as bad and power hungry...We were still trapped in the old ways, like all clans back then...Foolishly pitting ourselves against one another to prove our dominance or that our way was the right way. The person I had to kill wanted the Subatsu to become more open, wanted us to dominate, wanted to go on conquests, and this sword was a symbol of dominance back then. Whoever wielded it stood at the helm, and if no one could find it..."
"It wouldn't have made a difference or it would have thrown the clan into chaos causing it to split in half. Our code and ethics forbid such a thing from happening. We were going on the war path regardless and someone needed to be at the helm to lead the others." Syrus nodded in understanding, scratching at his cheek.
"History is repeating itself it seems...This is the last time this will happen, though. It would seem we are living in the last days of the Warring States Era now...There is a revolution going on before our very eyes, an era of revolution, Syrus. That is why I am bestowing you with this blade."
"Are you implying?"
Aiko shook his head. "I can't best you. You are not hubris and have not transgressed by our standards, but it is just something to keep in mind. We are going on the war path with the shinobi clans who do not join us, shinobi villages, and anyone else who supports them. If you go against the initiative it'll lead to open dissension within the ranks, and we can't afford any internal strife."
"Not completely, Aiko. That is a different kind of battle." Syrus muttered, thinking of Hashirama, Katsu, and the rest who would shortly fall in line.
"We crush them in the long run."
Syrus shrugged. "The weak will still fall to the strong, but weak doesn't mean stupid as we both know very well. Shinobi will always profit from war...Strife and war is their penchant, it's their trade. Incongruity and hatred being passed down are the only things inevitable on their part."
Aiko tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge the meaning behind his words. "Don't allow yourself to be blinded by this honor. You are not ready to challenge certain things, Syrus. There are some things nobody can fix, not even Rikudo or his brother could stop death."
Syrus couldn't help but smile. The notion of anything being impossible for him was preposterous. He knew he would dive deep into the reservoir of power that had no end. He would latch onto that deepest strata where the was no end or beginning.
"I will keep that in mind, Aiko."
Satisfied, Aiko turned to go.
"Jime wants to see you first thing in the morning. Go to his chambers before the morning drills. Then go to the main building afterwards there is the meeting pertaining to Konoha, Hashirama, Kumogakure, and the Water country."
Even the sobering prospect of meeting with Jime, one of the grim overseers of training within the Subatsu, couldn't dampen Syrus's already smoldering spirit. The morning's first light found him at the door leading into the private quarters of Jime.
It had been many, many months since he had last been here.
At that time he had been chastised for misbehavior with Shizuku. This time he had severely humiliated him and the Council, though there needed to be change.
He wondered what was in store for him.
Syrus knocked once.
"Enter!" Came the voice from within.
Trying to ignore a feeling of trepidation, Syrus opened the sliding doors.
Jime was in the center of the room kneeling on his meditation mat. It was almost as if he hadn't moved. His position was exactly the same as it had been at their last meeting, years ago.
"Jime." Syrus said, tone respectful.
Jime didn't bother to rise. "I see you have two swords under your obi."
"I earned them both." Syrus felt very defensive, as if he was under attack.
"I have no wish to contradict our Blademasters. Remember you are still a leader, our leader. You owe your allegiance to us and the generations growing up." Jime replied, though his tone suggested something different.
"Of course, Jime."
"The way in which you defeat your enemies has left a great impression on the young ones. They will look to emulate you now. You must set an example for them."
"I will do my best."
"That means your...Misbehavior with Shizuku and other women must end."
Syrus narrowed his eyes. "You knew?"
"I am an elder, and an overseer of the training. I am not a fool, and I am not blind to what is happening within the walls of the compound or outside of them. We only tolerated such behavior when you were in war because it did no harm to the other apprentices or students. Now, however, many of the students will be watching you closely. I do not want them following your path and trying to train one another in a misguided attempt to duplicate your success."
"What will happen to Shizuku? Will she be punished?"
"I will speak with her just as I am speaking with you. It must be clear to the rest of the apprentices that the two of you are not doing anything unsavory together in private. That means you cannot see her anymore. You must avoid all contact except in the group lessons or meetings. Unless you two get married. If you both obey me in this, there will be no further consequences."
Syrus more than understood Jime's concerns, but he felt the solution went too far. There was no need to cut him and Shizuku off from each other so completely. He wondered if the other Elders knew of his attraction to her.
Did they fear she would be a distraction?
No, this was simply about control.
Syrus had defied Jime. He had succeeded in changing the Council despite being shunned by the majority of the elders who once had seats.
"That is not all. You must also put an end to your study of the forbidden archives." Jime continued, cutting off Syrus's train of thought.
"Why?" Syrus burst out, surprised and angry.
"Do not-"
"The manuscripts contain the wisdom of the ancients. I have learned much about the nature of chakra, its deepest strata, and its highest stratosphere from them."
"What you seek in the archives are relics of the past and they are from a time that has long since vanished for thousands of years, Syrus! The Subatsu and world has changed since those archaic times. We have evolved beyond what you learned and continue to learn in those musty scrolls, books, and tomes. You would understand this if you had been studying with the others, instead of rushing off on your own path!"
Syrus remembered Aiko's words from the night before-how his great-great grandfather was always a maverick and carved his own path.
Feeling rightly confident, Syrus locked eyes with the older man. "The world and Subatsu may have changed, but we should still build on the knowledge of those who came before us, and surely you understand this. Why else would you have become an overseer of the training?"
There was a flash of anger in Jime's eyes. He never did like being challenged, especially by one of his former students, so when he spoke, his voice was cold and menacing. "We have no weak links. We are all strong. Only the strong survive. That is the only reason I chose to become an overseer."
Syrus was aware that he should let the matter drop, but he wasn't going to back down. This was too important. "But what about the Shadowlands? What about the tombs of all the Subatsu and Domou who are buried there, and the secrets hidden inside them?"
"Is that what you seek?" Jime sneered. "The secrets of the dead? Nothing of value remains!"
"We are not servants, you fool! Chakra has secrets the shinobi will never understand because they are too busy spitting out rocks and fire. They are so impressed by that, they miss something more crucial. There may be something they missed that we can latch onto and use against them."
Jime laughed, a harsh and scornful bark. "Are you really that naïve?"
"The chakra and spirits of powerful Subatsu and Domou are said to linger near their tombs. They only appear to those who are worthy of mastery! That means they would not have revealed themselves to the shinobi at any point in time, or someone less than worthy within our own kin." Syrus insisted, stubbornly refusing to be cowed. "
"Do you really believe chakra imprints and spirits still linger in their graves, waiting to pass on the great mysteries of chakra to those who seek them out?"
Syrus thought back to his years of intensive studies. There were too many such accounts documented in the archives to be mere legend, myth, or exaggeration. There had to be some truth to it. No matter how slight, there must have been some merit to it all.
"Yes, I do." Syrus answered, though he knew it would infuriate Jime even more.
"I believe I can learn more from the ghosts in the Valleys and Shadowlands than the living masters here within the compound, and especially you Jime."
Jime leapt to his feet and struck Syrus hard across the face.
Syrus held his ground.
He didn't even flinch.
"You are nothing but an impudent fool! You seek out the knowledge of those who are dead and gone. You almost worship them! You think they hold some great power, but they are nothing but dust and bone!"
"You're wrong." Syrus said.
He could feel the hot fury welling up inside of him, but he didn't reach out with his mind's eyes to wipe it away or shove it aside. He simply stood still as stone in front of the seething Jime, and though Syus didn't move, Jime took half a step back.
"I wasn't strong enough to save those kids. But, I promise you I will never allow it happen again. I will not fail."
Jime's harsh gaze softened, and he heaved out a great sigh. "Syrus, you can't shoulder the blame solely."
"Why did they have to die, Jime? Why couldn't I save them? I know I could have, I should have..."
"Syrus, you've always been earnest and sincere, but there are some things you can't fix. There's some things you can't stop and you can't fix everything. Some things can't be fixed. You are not all powerful."
Syrus stiffened at the older man's words, moving himself away towards the door. "I should be...Someday I will be. I'll have so much chakra my whole body will have to evaporate and reform!"
"Syrus, don't speak of such things." Jime said, genuinely concerned.
"I'll be the most powerful. I promise you that, I will even learn to stop people from dying!"
"Syrus-"
"It's all Hashirama's fault! That damn manipulative man! It's the shinobi as a whole! Hashirama put me out of the way, in order to found his stupid village. He was always supporting that damn chimp Sasuke and those wretched Hyuga even when we were at war!" Syrus slammed his hand into the wall, seething.
Jime clenched his hands into fists, not able to say a word.
"If you have too much strength you tend to get into things you're not supposed to. This will cause suffering for your whole life. I did, father did, Rikudo and his brother did, Indra and Ashura...All of us have. To save the weak from times of sufferings...That is the original ideal of Ninshu, and the origins of Ninjutsu...And long before Ninshu, has the ideal been to use absolute power to save the weak from times of sufferings and to bring peace...But, the times have changed a lot and the logic has become obsolete. Everything is a miscalculation because of the pride and hubris of mankind...The only things that do not change are the sun, moon, and the stars."
When Jime spoke, his voice was more composed. "If you value the wisdom of the dead so much, then go. Leave the compound. Go to the Valleys. Go to the Shadowlands. Find your answers in their tombs. Allow yourself to be devoured by all of those beasts and monsters that roam through there!"
Syrus hesitated. He knew this was another test. If he apologized now, if he groveled and begged the forgiveness of Jime, the elder man would probably let him stay without much issue.
But, he knew Jime was wrong.
The ancient Subatsu were dead, but their legacy remained.
This was his chance to claim it as his own.
He turned his back on Jime and marched from the room without a word.
There was no point in continuing the argument.
The only way he could ever attain the power, the indomitable power where he could prevent death of the circumstance surrounding it was by finding proof.
And, he wasn't going to find it standing here.
Syrus had missed the morning practice session as well as the important meeting concerning Hashirama and Konoha. It wasn't hard for Aya to figure out who was responsible for his absence. She didn't bother to knock on Jime's door.
She simply used chakra to burst apart the lock, then kicked it open.
Unfortunately, the element of surprise she'd been hoping for had been lost.
Jime had his back to the door, examining one of the magnificent artifacts of pottery that stood beside his rustic bed. He didn't turn when Aya burst in. He didn't react at all. Which meant he'd been expecting the intrusion.
Aya snapped her palm back violently, and the door slammed shut.
What she was about to say wasn't for the ears of the students. "What the hell did you do, Jime?"
"I assume you are referring to that maverick rogue, Syrus." Came the too-casual reply.
"Of course I mean Syrus, and do not call him a rogue all because he booted you out of your seat of power! He wasn't at the important meeting earlier today! No more games, Jime. What did you do to him?"
"Nothing. Not in the way you're thinking. I merely tried to reason with him. Tried to make him understand the necessity of working within the structure of this compound."
"You manipulated him." Aya said with a sigh of resignation.
She knew Jime had no fondness for Syrus. Not with one of his longtime rivals-being the one who'd brought Syrus up into leadership. Aya knew she should have warned the young man to be on his guard, but her mind had been preoccupied with other things and recent events.
"You twisted his mind somehow. You forced him down a path you wanted him to take. A path of ruin."
There was no immediate reply. Tired of staring at Jime's back, she stepped forward and reached down to grab the taller man by the shoulder, whirling him around to face her. "Why, Jime?"
In the first brief second that the overseer of training was spun around, Aya caught a glimpse of uncertainty and confusion in the gaunt, dour features. Then those features twisted into a mask of rage, dark eyes burning in flinty sockets.
Jime slapped Aya's hand away. "Syrus brought this on himself! He was willful! Obsessed with the past and chasing after tombs! He is of no use to us until he accepts the teachings and moves forward in our objectives!"
Aya was more than surprised, not by the sudden outburst, but by the unexpected flicker of uncertainty that had preceded it. Suddenly she wondered if maybe the meeting hadn't gone exactly as planned. Perhaps Jime had tried to manipulate Syrus and failed.
It wouldn't be the first time they'd underestimated their unusual leader.
Now Aya felt more curious than angry. "Tell me what happened, Jime. Where is Syrus now?"
Jime sighed regretfully. "He's gone into the wastelands. He's heading for the Valleys and the Shadowlands."
"What? Why would he do that now of all times? There is nothing there but a fight for survival and we don't have the pleasure of wasting such time!"
"I told you. He's obsessed with the past. He believes there are secrets out there that will be revealed to him, secrets of chakra and its deepest strata."
"Did you warn him of the dangers? The massive swarms? pack hunters?"
"He never gave me a chance. He wouldn't have listened anyway. He's been there more than once already, but never by himself. He knows the dangers of going that far into the Valley and Shadowlands. The Gorog will devour him if the Adamantine Turtle doesn't swallow him whole."
That much, at least, Aya believed. Yet she wasn't sure if he trusted the rest of Jime's story. Jime was always subtle and crafty. It would be just like him to trick someone into venturing through the deadly Valleys and Shadowlands. If he wanted to eliminate Syrus without being held accountable, this would be one of the ways to do it-except for one small thing.
"He's going to survive and will find what he was looking for. He's stronger than you know." Aya said.
"If he survives." Jime replied, turning back to the pottery.
"You're underestimating Syrus, Jime. He could come back and no one will be able to control him. He may be too powerful."
Jime shook his head. "He will see and experience the truth for himself. There are no secrets in the Valley or Shadowlands except for the harsh reality, we both know there is nothing left in the tombs there but hollow chambers and mounds of dust. Once he sees this for himself, he will give up his foolish idealization of the ancient way. Only then will he be ready to join the coalition."
The conversation was over.
That much was clear.
Jime's words made enough sense, if this was all part of a larger lesson to make Syrus finally abandon the old ways and accept the new era and gathering coalition. Yet as Aya turned and left the room, she couldn't shake the feeling that Jime was only rationalizing events after the fact. Jime wanted others to believe he had been in control the whole time, but the haunted look she had glimpsed gave evidence to the real truth.
Jime had been frightened by something Syrus had done or said.
The thought brought a smile to Aya's lips.
She had every confidence Syrus would survive his journey into the Valley and Shadowlands.
And, she was very interested to see what would happen when the young man returned.