Hitokiri Kyubi
By: Perfect Psionic Soldier
There was once a country of eternal strife that was situated upon the center of the known lands. This county was dubbed, Arasoi no Houdo Strife's Country as many factions came to power in order to control its rich resources and even richer trade routs that linked the greatest countries together.
It was said that the person who would control this land would in themselves have great power and influence over the known world as this important land would give the ruler access to nigh unlimited resources.
This however, lead to constant strife as the many factions wished to become the leading clan of this land and as such, the shinobi world flourished as many predominating clans hired the various skills of these people to assassinate or protect others.
With the land's influences and powers so scattered among the many clans, a central form of a hidden village was pointless as sooner or later, they would take the wrong job and faced with the constant hounding from angered clans. The best this country had was simple groups of organized crime and guilds of assassins.
Privately formed shinobi groups were also not unheard of as the vast majority of the clans could well supply their loyal retainers with the resources to back such training and up keeping. Though these private shinobi were nowhere nearly as powerful as those of the hidden villages, they were skilled in what limited techniques they knew.
This strife was instilled into the very land itself and was destined to continue until the fall of man. No one clan was strong enough or foolish enough to attempt a take over as it would quickly drain that single clan of its resources and it would quickly lose everything that it had hoped to gain or even controlled. More then one clan had disappeared in such a fashion.
However, hope for this forsaken country was not lost and as small seeds with ideals of peace flourished, a coalition of many of the weaker clans combined themselves into a formidable force as they planned on unifying the country itself so that peace could finally wash away the curse of eternal strife.
This was countered by the formation of an alliance of the strongest of the clans, though fewer in number, they held more land and resources then the lesser powers could have ever touched, or so they had thought.
Backed by the people of this land, the coalition, Seisen Holy War raised up to meet the alliance, Shouheki Barrier, in a great war known as the Henkaku no Taisen Revolution's War.
During the Henkaku no Taisen Revolution's War the many provinces and factions within Arasoi no Houdo Strife's Country rose into open conflict as three months of solid tension broke. It became a struggle to claim the outlying cities and the greatest portion of the Henkaku no Taisen took place in its capitol, the city of Shuuken Centralization.
It was in this city and war that gave forth to the legend of the Jushichi Kitsunetsuki Seventeen Spirit Possessed. They were the epitome of a warrior and to those who had fought along side them, all swore that these few people fought like the possessed, slaughtering all in their way in the names of their beliefs. They were Hitokiri all, warriors that had attained a rank that was meant for those who had reached the epitome of the way of the sword, the path of Bushido.
It was a short war, filling the space of but a year and a half, when one coalition clan, the Zenmai Royal Fern, came to ruling power. They unified the country under one banner, bringing with it the end of the war and promises of a greater peace that the country itself had never known. With the Shouheki Barrier alliance shattered and its clans defeated, the Seisen Holy War disbanded and completed their promises to the people as they formed, the Chuuouseifu Central Government that would create a justly ruled society were the people could live in peace.
The surviving Jushichi Kitsunetsuki then dispersed, leaving only empty questions in the winds of history.
A canvas of sky blue, cloud white filled the afternoon, while forest green dominated everything below as a lone solitary figure made his way between trees and various forms of bushes.
Wearing a loose set of clothes he simply walked through the forest at a set pace, bypassing through denser foliage as if they weren't there at all.
His sandals quickly moved over the green-carpeted forest floor, steadily forward over fallen logs and small rocks, while simply walking around the trees. Form fitting, yet loosely hanging orange pants covered his lower half, protecting his legs from the dangerously irritating and scratchy bush braches and overpowering leaves that fell from the trees above, as autumn began to subtly creep closer.
An orange vest covered his chest, giving comfort, as it was the last of two items that tied him to his past. It was once a jacket, heavy and protective during his younger days, but as he traveled and fought, it quickly became shredded. All he and even the best seamstresses could salvage out of the original was a vest.
The sleeves were ripped off during three heated confrontations; he was able to salvage the left sleeve only once. The zipper itself had saved his life once, at the expense of its own existence when a scythe had ripped though it while it was done up. The fur collar had been a big target for many of the haughty fighters he had faced and had long since been picked apart by the many swords he had faced.
His old forehead protector, a real treasure during his ninja days was safely tucked in his vest's inner right pocket, leaving his hair unruly in front, while a blond ponytail trailed down his back to nearly his waist. The occasional breeze ruffled his hair in a caress, tousling his blond locks.
A sword was sheathed at his left side, moving with the motions of his body. As he swayed, it swayed, as though it was a mimicking spirit, one that was unified with its master. It had a presence of its own, had anyone paid closer attention to it. It was in many ways, the man's lover, as he took gentle care of the weapon, making sure it was constantly well polished and clean enough to see the reflection of everything below heaven.
With no real sense of direction, the young man wandered forward. Since there was no set destination in mind, he found it easy to simply enjoy the afternoon daylight and soak in the calming senses of the forest around him.
The only bad thing about his current situation was the simple fact that he was starving. He had eaten the last of his food last afternoon and now the lack of food was coming back to haunt him.
But without money, he had no choice but to quickly leave the last town he had visited a week back, lest those wonderful smells force him to do petty theft. Not that he cared that much, but it was the morals that were important. At least that's what he kept repeating to himself to pass the time. That and ignore the rumblings of his stomach.
While wishing for a close town or village where he could get a small job and earn some money for food and lodgings, he came across a dirt pathway that seemed to be winding through the forest.
Looking towards his right and left, the young man couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. The path itself was well worn, the deep and compacted, imprints of countless travelers stated that this was an often-used pathway. The problem was, were should he go? Left, right or straight on through to the other side of the forest?
Then the moment of silence was broken by a shrill scream filling the air.
Taking the sound in within a heartbeat, he knew that it was the scream of a young woman, no doubt beautiful and enticing… closing his eyes, he smacked his forehead in annoyance as he cursed an over perverted sennin for tainting him with overly perverted thoughts, thoughts that he rather he didn't plague him.
But he was quickly on the move. The sound came from the left pathway and he quickly zeroed in on the source of the scream. The fact that there were two other screams accompanying the first one also helped.
Running down the pathway for a few dozen meters, he then quickly veered to his right, into the forest once again as he noticed fresh tracks of horses and a wagon. Judging by the indents in the grass, it was a heavy wagon.
Within four heartbeats and one oversized bush, he was instantly confronted with the picture of half a dozen raggedly dressed men, wielding poor commoner weapons while they lorded over a small group of people.
There was a man laying facedown on the grass in front them, a broken stick laid to the body's right. One of the attackers was favoring his left leg and clutching at a matching left arm. The young man smelled blood.
The other people, three in total, were all women, two adults and a child; all wore dirt-smudged kimonos and had black hair as they were kneeling. They were cowering in fear. Both of the adults were holding at a red cheek, as what the young man assumed was the leader of this small gang, was standing over them with a viscous sneer.
This was all noted with a horseless wagon in a forest backdrop. Had this been less serious, the young man would have laughed.
The man's companions were in a semicircle around the wagon, keeping the people on the inside, the women were all but done for.
There was a quick dialogue as the leader muttered something about a small ruffling in a sack and looked over each woman succulently and his friends snickered. One of them even started to drool.
Hearing enough, the young man moved forward, making as much noise as possible. The enter gang reacted by raising weapons and faced him as he continued his approach.
He stopped when he reached the centre of their semi circle and he found himself staring at the 'leader' of this ragtag bunch in the face and instantly regretted it. The man was easily as ugly as a donkey's rear. With a casual sniff, he discovered that the donkey would have smelled better. Even after the poor beast let loose a dying fart.
The man openly sneered as he approached, unaware of the danger that he was in. It was always like this, it seemed. The weaker people who gained false confidence in numbers were always so pathetic to cut down. It usually took no more then a minute at most to kill them all.
"So, a young hero are we? Ah, let me guess… sword at your side and the strength of justice in your palm? HAHAHAAHA" the man stated as his friends joined in the laughter.
The young man contemplated sparing them for a full two heartbeats but decided against it. They were simply misguided yes, but even these misguided simpletons could hurt even one innocent person. Likewise, one person was one too many.
The cowering women and perhaps dead man beside him was proof enough that they were serious and perhaps had done this before and were sure to do this again.
"What no answer? Come on hero, show us your sword, and if I like it, ill even give you one of these fine ladies in exchange… that is if I feel lenient, AHAHHAAHAH!!"
Instead of answering, the young man simply looked up at the sky that was currently weaving around through the sparse trees. Today was a good day and even though these men wouldn't live beyond this conflict and blood would undoubtedly stain the grass today. There was only outcome to this situation and he had already been in enough battles to know when the fate of death was all but carried out.
With no response, the leader was getting annoyed. He had the power in this situation and he was going to kill the little man before him for the insolence against him. Without another word, a simple nod set off the quick and brief chain of events that most of them, had they survived or even realized what had happened, would have most likely regretted.
The leader was using a poorly sharpened katana while the others used large knives, those usually found in kitchens. They came in from all sides at once and the women gasped, another person was going to die as the leader sat back and stated something about how they were at fault for screaming which would lead to his death and that if they surrender themselves, he would spare the stranger.
It took 4 complete seconds for the attackers to realize something. The first second was noted with the fact that the young man had his arms out, the second was used to realize he was attacking, the third acknowledged that the sword was drawn, the fourth came in a crash as one of the five attackers went down in a gurgled scream.
A diagonal slash from right shoulder to left waist was all that was needed for the man to die. The other then charged as one and for them, their world suddenly went red with pain before they fell into darkness.
The self appointed leader froze in shock as five of his men went down in a seemingly single smooth strike. The young man had simply reversed the grip on his nice looking sword and in one simple twist, took out the throats of the four people behind him, altering the path of his blade to adjust to the different heights of his attackers after his first attack.
One second. A moment of more then a single heartbeat yet surely it was less then two. To the eyes of those who did not know of war and battles, it seemed as though the four men's throats seemed to explode in a shower of blood. But he, a bandit with some experience saw it clearly in retrospect. It took a few moments for everything to settle in his mind at what had happened.
"And then there was one." The young man stated calmly. There were three different outcomes to those words and they all ended the same fashion. Fight and die, run and die, take hostage and die. This man was just bidding his time till death.
The youngest girl, a daughter, was grabbed roughly by her hair and pulled up. The katana was drawn up, placed under her head and in front of her throat. The young girl simply froze as fear locked up her body. The other two women also quickly froze up.
"Drop the sword and the girl lives." The lone man stated seriously. His mirth had been burned away so quickly he was still shaking inside, desperate to get out this alive no matter the means.
With a small nod, the young man tossed his sword forward, so it landed before the man and began to walk back, false agitation dancing across his face. Once he was back far enough, the leader smiled as he held onto the girl and edged towards the sword that was lying on the grass.
Making sure that the young man was still moving backwards, the man moved in the general direction of where his group had hid and jumped this small family. Once the young man was at least seven meters away, the leader dropped his own sword as he reached for the masterpiece before him. The girl suddenly struggled and he let her go as he fingers were all but holding the katana before him.
The hilt was rather plain but the blade seemed to shine with a light of its own, calling to him with its beauty and he was sure it was sharp enough to hew lesser weapons apart.
With a startled "urk", the leader found himself clutching at his throat as something warm and liquidly spilt forth. With a few quick blinks, he found himself staring at the face of the young man.
'Impossible! He was too far back to get here! How did you!' the leader screamed out at the young man, but all that came forth was a few bubbly gurgles as life left his body in painful racks, his mouth struggling open and closed to grab at air. The final sight he saw was the young man's cold and hardened visage. That was a feature unique to only one line of warriors.
'Hitokiri!!!' the leader thought out in fear and awe as the last of his strength left him.
The grateful cries of the mother and daughter filled the air as the mother hugged her daughter in a tight and grateful embrace. The other woman then slowly stood up and walked towards the young man that had saved their lives from certain death, and also from being defiled by those excuses for humans. He had her back turned to her as the sounds of whispering steel signified the sheathing of a sword. He had killed them all so swiftly no blood stained the blade itself. He was a true warrior of the blade. A samurai.
"Please…" the youngest of the adults, started calmly, soothingly even as she caught the stranger's attention in an instant felt her face flush red as he turned to face her. He was so handsome! "Can you try to help our father?"
Looking at the fallen man, he nodded as he simply moved forward and gingerly poked and touched at the various parts of the man's body. When he felt it was safe to do so, the young man carefully turned the man onto his back and found himself grimace. Two cuts and more then little bruises lined the man.
One cut was simply across his chest and the other on his left leg, bruises adorned his arms and head. There was blood everywhere and a dark pool had spread out where he was laying face down.
There were gasps behind him and he didn't have to turn to realize that the women were shocked to see their important person in such a state. There were two cries of 'Father' and a cry of 'Dear' as the women quickly rushed to his side, but the youth kept them at bay with but the word 'Please'.
Looking down at the man, he knew that these wounds were serious; it didn't take a doctor to realize that, but with a quick check he was relieved to find a pulse. Luckily, he had learned a few tricks during his life, one of those tricks were utilizing his chakra, the force that was the combination of the body's stamina and his spirit to create a form of unique energy.
Doing a few quick hand seals that would properly mould the chakra into what he wanted it to do. His right hand then began to glow with power as the young man then began to slowly yet simply slid his right hand, all but the pointer and middle finger curled into a fist, down the man's chest, sealing the wound in an almost miraculous feat.
Repeating the slow movements with the man's leg wound, sealing that nasty gouge in the leg and then gently pressed on the larger bruises, allowing them to shrink as the flesh itself healed in record time into something more feasible to look at.
With the larger bruises healed until they were of no importance, the young man then stopped. The amount of stamina healing required was immense, especially for large wounds. The more vital the organ injured the more stamina, time and care was needed to heal the injury.
Wiping away a few beads of sweat, the young man stared at the man before him. He was middle aged, but he was finally breathing normally and would continue to live on. "He will be fine with some rest, however visiting a doctor would be the best course of action for him."
The nodded gratefully wife fussed over her husband in little ways while the daughter stood up and formally thanked their savior with a deeply respectful bow, her hands held together. Hair long hair clipped in a loose ponytail spilled over her shoulder as she held her bow for a few moments before straightening.
"Thank you samurai, we had lost all hope until you came. May I ask for your name?" she thanked and asked as formally as best she could. She absently straightened out her light sakura colored and patterned kimono.
With a warm smile, the young man stood up and nodded. "You're welcome and, as for my name, is it of no importance." He replied as he looked at the horseless wagon. "Is your horse near by?"
"Of course! I'll call her!" The little girl stated as she got up, her pigtails bouncing with the energy that only youths seemed to possess. A shrill cry of 'Hime' then promptly filled the air as she cried out the horse's name.
Noting that the little girl wore a similar kimono to her older sister, he found himself staring at the husband and wife. The man wore simple deep blue clothing and his wife was garbed in a similar colored kimono.
"Of course it is. How can we simply let you leave without properly thanking you?" The woman countered respectfully as her sister continued to cry out the name, peppering her calls with a loud whistle every so often.
"Why does my name mean so much?" The young man asked from a different approach as he in slight surprise, made out the distant patter of hoofs in the calm forest.
"Because you saved our lives." The woman restated as she turned her head just in time to see their horse trot over to them. The mother then got up to lead the horse to their wagon as her daughter entertained the samurai.
"What is your name mister?" The youngest asked as she craned her neck to look up at him. "I am Asayake and this is my sister Tomoe." She stated with an awkward bow. The girl couldn't have been more then eight summers old and her attempts at formality amused him.
She finished her bow and then latched onto his orange pants. "Are you really a samurai?" she asked again as she tugged at his left leg, to the dismay of her mother and sister as they were still trying to instill proper manners into her.
With a small defeated sigh, he relented as he picked up the little girl. She bounced in his hold as she waited for her answer.
"Yes I am a samurai and my name is Naruto." He stated with a fox like grin as the girl beamed back at him. Even Tomoe let out an almost childish smile as he walked them back to the now horse hitched wagon.
"Lets get your father onto this eh?" Naruto stated as he lifted the girl in his arms upward. Placing Asayke and helping Tomoe onto the wagon, Naruto then proceeded to lift the unconscious father while the mother finished preparing a small spot for her husband to rest on.
"Are you coming with us Naruto-niichan?" Asayake questioned in a cute little voice that Naruto honestly felt compelled to answer.
With a grin, he simply hopped up onto the wagon seat, so that he was sitting on the far left, opposite to Tomoe and had little Asayake in the middle, who was holding the reigns to the horse, Hime. "I'll come, if only to make sure that your father gets proper treatment." He answered as he settled in.
"Thank you samurai, you have our gratitude." The mother replied with a smile and formal bow from were she was seated besides her husband.
"Think nothing of it. But we have to get to the closet town soon. The quicker your father gets help, the better off he will be. My medical skills are mediocre at best." Naruto said with a waive of his right hand while the little girl flicked the reigns to the horse and got them moving forward.
"The closet town that we know of is also our destination and is but two days away, I once again thank you for accompanying us." The mother finished as she raised herself from her bow.
"Again, think nothing of it. Out of curiosity, were are we going anyways?" Naruto said as he continued to waive his hand in attempts to banish some of the formality around himself.
"Konoha! We are going to Konoha!" Asayake stated happily as the wagon shook and jittered a bit as they lurched back onto the main rode, towards their destination.
The shocked look of his face was simply dispelled with the shaking and Naruto suddenly confronted with the idea of heading back home. He had been away so long that it was practically another lifetime.
Then smiling, he raised his left hand and punched forward. "To Konoha then!" he yelled out to the joy of his new little sister as she also hollered in unison with his actions.
'Konoha… so I return after 6 years or so…' Naruto reflected as Tomoe smiled at him and her sister began to tell about the heroic feats of their legendary horse, Hime. It was a comforting travel that relaxed Naruto on his way home.
(" ) ( " ) ( ")
Author's Corner:
Names and Their Meanings
Asayke: morning glow, sunrise colors
Hime: princess
Tomoe: huge comma design
Hey all, just submitted this so this samurai/ninja Naruto has something from me... and I had this idea for a while too, just wanted to write it so I can prepare myself to apply this idea to another one of my fanfics
Hope you enjoyed it!