War-torn
A/N: You've heard of time-traveling canon characters, but have you heard of time-traveling OCs?
Anyway. Here's the actual first chapter.
The hermit told her he could bring her back fifteen years into the past. The hermit actually brings her back fifty-five.
All she wanted was to find a sword.
The hermit claimed he could go back in time.
"I've little patience for your charade, old man, if at all."
She told him that at the foot of the mountain he resided in.
It was sunset, and she had best reach Murai's place of residence before darkness envelops the island. She quickens her pace, rushes past trees and past rocks, not minding the branches that snag at her clothes, nor the mud that sticks to her skin.
She gave up a life of luxury and ease for a life of fame and adventure.
"Murai." The name clings to her mouth. "You will be mine, and I will be worthy."
She climbs higher and higher, reaches a clearing and looks up.
It's like the sky hasn't changed.
"No."
That can't be right. She was at the foot of the mountain at dusk, surely by now it would have been...
"It would have been quite dark by this time, wouldn't it?" The old hermit appeared from the trees.
"An illusion!" She was about to strike him when he held his hand out.
"It is not mine. It is the island's."
She narrows her eyes at him.
"Come. I will show you."
In hindsight, she should have never believed a word her he said to her in that cave. Perhaps she should have never gone on this journey in the first place. Perhaps she should have resigned this childhood ambition and agreed to head her clan, become the Wind Daimyo's sworn protector and the light to the Kazekage's shadow.
Perhaps.
But there is no space for regret and there is no time to be panicking. She is here, in the actual past, too many years into the past, and there is no getting out besides finding Murai.
There is no getting out.
"Please wait here." The shinobi escorting her said outside two shoji doors.
She is to meet the legendary Shodaime Hokage of all people! Not even her younger self had dreamed of such a thing.
Then again, she had dreamed of encountering mystical beasts in faraway islands.
And now, here she is at twenty-seven years old, feeling terribly unprepared and underdressed for such an occasion.
She sits upright, straightens out her hakama and her kimono, pats down her hair and fixes the hairpin. This is the best she can do, this is the only thing she can do.
When he enters, she expects him to exude an aura of controlled power and sharp-edged grace worthy of the magnificence that comes with being the founder of such a renowned village.
And he does, to a certain extent.
The shoji doors slide open and he walks in, four of his guards trailing behind him.
"Greetings." He says.
She instinctively bows down, presses her hands onto the tatami flooring and presses her forehead against her fingertips.
She suppresses a shiver.
"You are looking for Murai, correct?"
She's shocked beyond belief.
She's shocked into silence.
"Please raise your head."
She does as she's told.
"Oh, good." He sounds relieved. "For a moment there I thought you died."
She might as well have.
"I beg your pardon?" She manages to say.
"You are not the first to come looking for it, and you will not be the last."
She stutters, but no sound comes from her mouth. What does he mean? Was Murai such a coveted sword during this time? Had the hermit sent others before her? What does this all mean?
She can't form a coherent sentence in her head, so she settles with a vague, albeit dangerous, answer.
"I do not know what you mean, sir." She sputters out, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in her own skin.
"Is it for fame?" He continues, not minding how much a mess she has made of herself. "Money? What is it for? Why do you wish to seek such a sword?"
Then again, this could all be part of the hermit's illusion. He could be a fake, after all. He could be the hermit himself, disguising behind his grand illusions.
But she's ill-equipped to deal with such a thing. And accusing him of being so would mean death if she was wrong. She cannot risk it. She has to play along, has she?
"It is for someone." She confesses. "I promised I would bring him the blade."
At this point, she does not know whether that promise still holds true.
"This island is mysterious as it is treacherous."
The hermit lived in a cave not too far from the forest clearing. She thinks that perhaps he followed her, placed her in an illusion in order to extract information from her.
But what? She knows little of the world, and whatever she knows surely holds no importance to him. Or perhaps he is a spy, sent by the group who threatens the peace and order of the world.
The Akatsuki.
His group.
"What do you want from me?" She stops following him.
He cranes his head to look at her, faded eyes staring at her in humor. "Oh, what do you think an old man like me could possibly need from someone like you?"
"Drop the act." She commands, hand curled around Yamenokayama's handle.
"You are suspicious. Terribly so." He comments. "You have a hard time trusting people."
She doesn't give him a chance to say anything more. She charges as fast as she can, blade poised and ready to disarm him.
Since when was she this forward?
The hermit sidesteps away from her and uses his staff to block the oncoming attack.
"You even have a hard time trusting yourself."
She reverses the sword, uses the pommel to strike him.
"Perhaps you had your heart broken."
She does not listen to him.
"Perhaps you wish to undo your mistakes."
She refuses to listen to him.
Now, she is sitting on her ankles, mind in a state of terror and wonder. She cannot be thrown into a panic, not now. She cannot accuse him of being an illusion, lest this actually is the past. She cannot do anything but tread carefully and rethink over and over the words she answers to him.
She hopes her answer is sufficient enough.
"A promise." He echoes, looking quite smug. "It seems I've won this time."
She does not understand. Was there an inside joke to this? Was he the hermit all this time? Did he place her in an illusion to determine her intentions towards the blade? If so, was he some sort of guardian or protector? What in the world is he, anyway?
"Very well." He hums, satisfied with himself. "You may be on your way."
That is her cue.
"You have my thanks, Shodaime Hokage." She bows deeply before rushing to leave.
"Wait."
She stiffens.
"Have a safe journey, Amakuni-dono."
Her heart flutters. The legend called her by her name.
Well, her true name, her would-be name should she come out of this alive.
Samurai.
It wasn't every day that Hashirama encountered such people, and on such short notice even. She was looking for a sword, much like a lot of the others who came before her, a specific sword whom he had only heard of. Murai. Totsuka. Kusanagi. There are a lot of swords like it. There are a lot of people looking for such swords. She is only one of the many.
But they're just rumors, aren't they? Something someone conceived to deter the enemy.
He feels the slightest bit of pity for her, having to go all this way and on this journey for something that might not even exist.
But it's none of his business, anyway.
"What were you thinking, anija?"
Of course, his younger brother Tobirama questions his decision to simply let her go.
"She's a samurai."
And samurai have their own way of life that he, nor any other shinobi, could interfere in.
"Do her words hold no threat to you?"
She told him she was acting on a promise, a better answer than the ones that came before, but Tobirama thinks his brother should have seen through such a badly composed lie.
A lie.
A samurai dared use a promise as a lie?
Neither of them had heard of that before.
"Then follow her." He suggests. "Should you find anything incriminating, I shall take it up with the council."
And taking such a matter to the council would entail lengthy discussions of loyalty, tradition, and whatnot. It would entail repetitive meetings between the shinobi and the samurai, meetings which usually ended in cold stalemates and begrudged agreements.
It was a good thing that none of those meetings resulted in war.
It was good that the samurai had as much distaste for war as he does.
"Very well." Tobirama answers him suddenly before disappearing.
Hashirama smiles. At least this would get Tobirama off his back for a few days or so.
Shikai knew very little of the past outside of the historical accounts she had read when she was younger. She knew about the significant events, knew about certain people, but knew nothing else besides what was deemed important. She knew next to nothing about the personal lives of such people, and knew even less about this village.
All she knew was that it had been ten years since this village had been founded.
"Excuse me." She asks a merchant in what she thinks is the market square. "Where can I buy supplies?"
"Right here." The woman answers her. "What do you need?"
She looks at the woman's collection of scrolls, so many of them, and the rows and rows of kunai and shuriken lined perfectly. But she doesn't kunai or shuriken, and she doesn't have such great knowledge as to using scrolls in battle.
"What exactly do these scrolls hold?"
"Some of them hold boats. Some of them hold a week's supply of rations."
Oh, they would be very useful indeed.
"Would any of these hold a simple lodging? Like a bungalow, perhaps?"
Her wealthy upbringing gets the better of her at times like these.
"No." The woman deadpanned, obviously thinking of her as a haughty person, but goes on to explain what the other scrolls contained.
Not too far off, Tobirama watches as she pays for six scrolls and scowls.
Those don't even cost half of what she paid.
Suspicious foreigner she may be, that just isn't right.
So he approaches the merchant.
"Tobirama-sama!"
And he proceeds to chastise the woman for doing such a thing in front of him.
"Think of this as your final warning."
With ten silver coins in his pocket, he looks to the crowd and sees her eyeing another merchant not too far away.
Was she some sort of tourist?
At least this gives him a chance to chance to approach her while her guard is down.
The map she bought looked different from the world she is familiar with. It did not show any of the villages and settlements she had visited on her way to the island. If she is lucky, perhaps there would be trading posts or inns along that route. But if she isn't, then she best prepare for a long, tiring journey.
"Perhaps I can hire a guide..." She thinks aloud, laying the two maps on the table.
She is hidden away in one of the tables nearest the restrooms, in a small eatery near the gates of the village.
"You there." A voice called out.
She looks up almost automatically.
His eyes are narrowed at her. He is scowling.
The first time she meets Senju Tobirama is nothing significant.
When he catches her, she has two maps laid in front of her, one looking vastly different from the other.
He ticks off the second and third boxes on his mental list.
She has two maps, the other littered with suspicious markings.
That is enough reason for him to accuse her.
"Come with me." He commands.
She blinks.
"I'm sorry." She looks up. "My name is Amakuni Shikai. Perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else."
"No." His tone breaks her calm exterior. "There is no Shikai on the Amakuni registry."
The way she suddenly averts her eyes tells him everything, but she does not stand up to run nor does she show any sign of defiance.
"Come with me." He repeats.
All she does is stand up quickly.
She does not even ask him why.
And there is a reason.
She has been taught that the best way to deal with such a situation is to comply with the other party's demands, as long as their demands are reasonable and do not endanger one's life, and think of a way out of the situation with as little effort as possible. So she obeys, does not attack or make a run for it. She knows that compliance will likely earn her his trust.
If she really is in the past, perhaps earning someone's trust is best.
"I lied." She tells him when they exit the small eatery. "My name is Shikaku no Shikai. I come from–"
"Silence." He orders. "You will not speak."
"You run, you will be caught." He eyes the roofs.
She nods.
He remains silent for the rest of the while, and she does not dare speak or move away from him. When they reach a building, she thinks it suspiciously looks like a prison.
She immediately regrets her decision, but does nothing against it. This may be just a misunderstanding. If they give her a chance to explain...
Oh, who would believe her, anyway?
There's something in Tobirama's head that tells him he miscalculated.
A suspicious person comparing two maps could be someone who is merely lost. A samurai in the village who tells his older brother that she wants to act on a promise might be someone who just that.
But whoever this person she had made a promise to is still unknown.
And the fact that it is raises questions.
Could that person be Madara? But what does Madara intend to do with a sword that is only rumored to exist?
There is only one way to find out.
"Who is he?"
It is his first question, and also the first thing he's said to her after they've arrived. They're in an interrogation room. She has her hands bound in front of her. He eyes critically the maps laid out in front of him. He does not understand the markings on the other map. Could they be posts? Rendezvous locations?
"He is my employer." She says carefully. "He told me not to return unless I have the blade."
"His name." He interrupts.
"Tenbutsu Masamune."
He leans back a little to observe her. Tenbutsu Masamune is, as far as he knows, more famous as a writer than as a blacksmith. If he had hired this woman to find him a legendary sword, then it still seems a tad unbelievable.
He's sure that she's lying through her teeth.
"He is a storyteller." He says.
"Yes." And she agrees. "He wishes to see it for himself."
"Then bring him a sword. He would not know the difference."
His words are laced with mockery.
"I do not lie, sir." She tells him, figuring it better to form that into a statement rather than a question.
"Where is your missive?"
She tries her best not to break.
"I had lost it."
He huffs.
"But you have my word as a samurai of Yuukou no Sato."
She hopes it's enough.
"All I want is to find a sword."
He blinks, leans back to observe her.
"What will happen if you do?"
"I will give it to him."
"And then?"
"I will go home."
There is no semblance of hesitation or secrecy in her words. If her task was not as menial and as simple as this, there should be a hint of something there. There should be even the slightest bit of hesitation, the smallest form of reluctance to answer, the faintest hint of defiance.
So perhaps she is not lying.
Perhaps all she wants is to find a sword for an ambitious writer.
Perhaps that is all.
Perhaps he is wrong.
Perhaps.
"Thank you for your cooperation." He stands to leave. "Gather your supplies and prepare to leave at dawn."
Her eyes widened.
"At dawn?" She echoed in disbelief.
"Yes. We will clarify this matter with Tenbutsu Masamune."
He slides the door open and leaves the room without so much as a second glance or a mention of his name.
Now, she thinks she has no way of getting out of here alive.
A/N: Yes, I'm not at all familiar with how either of the Senju brothers is characterized properly. Sue me. Or better yet, tell me what to improve on!
Feedback will always be appreciated. Thanks for reading.