Chapter 3: Paradise Lost
Unlike many young shinobi of later generations, I had my first experience of combat before I even entered the academy. Well, almost.
See, the Second Shinobi World War ended when I was about seven or eight years old. It was after I first learned to freeze water; I remember that much. This happened not long before the end of the war, though, to this day, I'm not sure if it was actually related.
Being situated on the outer edge of the country as far as physically possible from the mainland, attacks from foreign nations were rare, and usually came by sea, as the ocean stretched far beyond the horizon to parts unknown to shinobi-kind. When they came, they came on huge galleons. Only, instead of ninja, they were pirates. At least, I think they were.
When I say I saw combat, I should clarify that I didn't actually fight or kill anyone. No, it wasn't yet my time to become blooded, but that time would come, and soon. Just, not then.
I was doing sword training with Sayaka in the back of our estate when, from out of nowhere, an alarm blared, like one of those old nuclear sirens. I still remember how Sayaka's expression shifted, from that of a long-suffering mother figure to that of a steely-faced mama bear. It was frightening.
"What's happening?!" I shouted over the din of the siren.
"Hyō-sama," she said, sternly but not unkind. "Go inside. In the bookshelf in your father's study, you'll find a book on ancient western recipes. Pull it out of place."
"I don't understand!"
She knelt down before me and grasped my shoulders. "Listen to me. It's very important that you do as you're told. Don't put yourself in unnecessary danger. I'll try to catch up with you as soon as possible. Now go."
With her hard eyes brokering no argument, I had no choice. I ran inside, just as she'd said. Just before I rounded the corner that would take me to father's study, I turned back and saw her bisect a man at the sternum with one clean slash of her blade, which was almost glowing with chakra. Suddenly, the ideals I'd held of playing ninja came crashing down as I saw my family's personal retainer standing over the corpse of a flesh and blood human, her sword dripping life essence onto the soil.
This wasn't a game. This was life or death.
Further inside, I ran into Tōko, accompanied by my mother and Aunt Kyōka, just outside my father's study.
"Good, you're safe," said Aunt Kyōka, looking just as deadly serious as Sayaka.
"Aunt Kyōka, what's happening?!" I cried as my mother took me by the hand.
"It's a raid," Aunt Kyōka said in a clipped tone. "Get inside. Quickly now, Hyō-kun."
Just then, as we were piling inside the study, one of the pirates, who had snuck in alone, found us and lunged. Aunt Kyōka let go of Tōko's hand.
"Look away!" Tōko and mother did, but I couldn't tear my eyes away as Aunt Kyōka ran through a series of hand seals, followed by the pirate's eyes bugging out as he skidded to a stop. He began choking and wheezing and clawing at his chest. Then, as quickly as it began, he went silent, made horrifying by the expression of terror and agony on his face as a massive shard of ice appeared from his open mouth, growing rapidly until it was bigger than his entire head and longer than his torso. I'll never forget the sight of the man looking like a snake with an unhinged jaw trying to swallow the gigantic ice shard whole. It would have been humorous if it weren't so grisly.
I looked away just before Aunt Kyōka turned to gather us up. I didn't want her to know that I'd seen.
The rest of the trip into the study was quiet, save for Tōko's muffled sobbing. Aunt Kyōka pulled the book out of place, causing the bookcase to swing inward, revealing a staircase down into our family's safe room. It was the only part of the Yuki clan estate that I'd never seen. If I'm lucky, I'll never have to see it again.
Contrary to my expectations, rather than a bare bones, depressing bomb shelter, the inside looked like any other room in the estate, with a long chabudai for meetings in the middle and bookshelves along the wall, and the floor lined with tatami mats. There were three rice paper doors: one led to a large bedroom, one to a kitchenette, and one to a bathroom. It was spacious and comfortable, but something about it deeply disturbed me as a kid. It was probably the circumstances under which I'd been introduced to it more than anything else.
The four of us settled into the main room once the bookcase closed behind us, and it wasn't long before Tōko fell asleep in Aunt Kyōka's lap. At some point, mother shuffled off to the kitchenette and brewed some tea. There was a cavernous silence between Aunt Kyōka and I while mother was gone. To this day, we haven't spoken about what happened outside the study, but I think she knew I'd seen it, despite her warning. She wouldn't look directly at me the whole time we were in the shelter. At the time, I wondered if I'd somehow disappointed her, but now, I think she was ashamed of herself and couldn't bear to face me right then.
After a couple hours, I was woken up by my mother, in whose lap I'd fallen asleep, but only because she picked me up and took me to the bedroom so I could sleep on an actual bed. I went back to sleep not long afterward.
In my dreams, I saw the same two scenes over and over again on a loop. The blood dripping off of Sayaka's sword. The pirate's head exploding. When I woke up the next morning (or it may have been the middle of the night; it's hard to say since there were no windows or clocks down there), I found my pillow was drenched. I cried all night long. I rolled over into my mother's side, as she was sleeping in the futon next to me, and when I awoke again, her arm was around my shoulders, trying to comfort me even unconsciously.
As much as I'd like to forget that day ever happened, I never have, and I never will.
~o~
After that, the atmosphere of the estate was markedly different. We tried to get on like it never happened, but there was always an underlying unease in the air. No one in the household or the village was killed, though some civilians were hurt, but even so.
We later found out that the pirates were hired by Kumo to kidnap one of us kids. Because of that, the number of Kiri shinobi stationed in town increased. On top of that, we also got some soldiers from the capital as well to fill out the ranks, and a naval detachment stationed at the shore, constantly on alert. Walking through town just to go to someone's house was no longer a regular thing that we'd do whenever. Now, we were protected by bodyguards besides just Sayaka, and trips into town were now fraught with looking over our shoulders.
It was in the midst of all this that my mother changed. I mentioned before that one hour of each day, aside from Sunday, was devoted to training. Something I forgot to mention was that an additional three hours were spent in instruction; essentially, homeschool. My mother was well-versed in several subjects, with math, history, and Japanese being her strongest. However, about a week after the raid, after our (my and Tōko's) lessons ended for the day, she asked me to stay behind with her in the living room. After Tōko left, she began.
"Hyōsuke," she said, a firm set to her face. I sat up straight. She almost never used my full name.
"Y-yes?"
"..." She was silent, her head tilted to the side so that her long, silky black hair fell over her shoulder. "What would you say to some private one-on-one training?"
"Huh?" I furrowed my brow. "With who?" The answer was obvious, but I still had to ask.
"With me of course," she smiled.
"Really? I didn't think my Japanese was that bad…"
"No, no, silly." As she talked, I could just hear a fly buzzing in the corner of the room. She grabbed her red pen, which she'd used to correct many a mistake on my classwork over the years, and, with a flick of her wrist, sent it flying.
The buzzing stopped. I barely even realized what was happening until I looked to my left and saw, with a mixture of awe and dismay, that the fly was now pinned to the rice paper wall by its wing. Almost robotically, I stood to investigate. Upon closer inspection, I found one of the fly's wings, the one not pinned, was struggling against the walls, as were its legs. It was still alive.
She'd hit the fly's wing without harming any other part of its body. From about two meters away. Without looking at it.
I swallowed a lump in my throat, nervous sweat pouring down my face.
I flinched when I felt her hand on my shoulder. She leaned over me to inspect her own handiwork, and I looked up to see her scratching her chin.
"Darn it," she said. "I hit one of its wing veins. I guess I'm a little rusty."
"Uh…"
"Oh, right." She snapped her fingers, then scurried off toward the pile of books on the floor next to the chabudai. She found the book she was looking for and flipped to a certain page, then gestured for me to come to her.
With more than a little hesitance, I did.
"So," she said, pointing at the page. There was a map of the Shinobi World on it, and she was pointing to Yu no Kuni, the Land of Hot Water. "Hyō-kun. What do you know about this place?"
"Um, not a lot. It's got hot springs, right?"
"Indeed. It also acts as an important buffer between Hi no Kuni and Kaminari no Kuni. But, something most people from the outside don't know is that its geography isn't the only thing special about it. You see, Yu no Kuni is home to the J'Kaijin¹."
"The J… what?" At this point, I was less sure about where she was going with this than before.
"J'Kaijin. From the words 'Junkai' and 'hito.' They're an itinerant people group, meaning they drift from place to place. They're mainly found in the northeast and east of the continent, and they're mainly known as roving traders. They have their own distinct culture, social structures, and even language. Yes?" she said when I raised my hand.
"Yeah, I have a question. What does this have to do with…" I looked off toward the wall where the fly was still pinned, seemingly having given up hope of escape.
"I'm getting to it. Just simmer down." She flipped further back in the book and caught a loose paper that fell out. She flattened it out on the table to the right of the book. I scanned its contents, but it was full of characters I wasn't familiar with.
"I don't…" I trailed off.
"Yes, I know," she said gently, squeezing my shoulder. "This is a formal agreement, made between my father and Himiko-sama. It says, and I quote, 'As per the agreement between the J'Kaijin tribe of Water Country and the Yuki clan, the chieftain's daughter Erityil and the clan matriarch's son Byakuya, shall be wed, forging a bond which shall endure unto eternity.'"
"So then…." I looked at Mother again. Byakuya was my father, as I already knew, but Erityil…? "Is that your name, Mother?"
"Indeed," she confirmed with a nod. "Though my proper name is a tad difficult for people around here to pronounce, so I just go by Eri."
"So you're one of these Jika-whatevers?"
"As are you, Hyō-kun." She winked. "Half, anyway."
"But what does this mean? And what does it have to do with…?" I glanced again at the wall, where the fly appeared to be on the verge of achieving enlightenment.
"You see, Hyō-kun. The J'Kaijin, as roving traders, have nobody to protect them from bandits and ravaging armies. As such, they've picked up a few tricks by observing shinobi and have even developed unique techniques of their own, largely without the use of chakra."
My eyes widened as the realization hit me like a bag of bricks. "And that's what you're gonna teach me?"
"Indeed. This is part of your heritage, Hyō-kun." She ran a hand through my long hair. "I would have taught you sooner or later regardless of your path through life."
I looked away, memories of the previous week flooding back. "Is this because of…?"
Mother grimaced. "Yes. I fear I'd grown complacent since this village is so far from the worst of the war." Her hand clenched into a fist. "I felt so powerless. And with you…." She shook her head. "You'll be going to the academy soon. It can only be of benefit to you to learn as much as you can before then."
"Alright." I smiled brightly at her. "I'll learn."
She hugged me tightly. "Thank you, Hyō-kun. You put your mother's mind at ease, more than you can know."
Of course, I knew more than she realized. But, it was all distant and impersonal to me until recently. In truth, I knew nothing. None of us did.
-0-
¹J'kai is pronounced here as one syllable. The word is a shortened form of 巡回人, which literally means "itinerant."