The Deadly Flower of Kumo - Chapter 1
Enter: Hana Yudoku
The second I woke up, I knew something was wrong.
I didn't take me long to figure out what. My hands were…tiny, too tiny and I had no control on my body. What was happening? I tried to remember something, but my mind was blank, I couldn't.
I instinctively raised my head and opened my eyes, but everything was blurry, I couldn't focus on anything, it was as if I were looking at the world through running water.
I managed to see a woman with tanned skin holding me, with a blinding smile, she radiated happiness. To her side was a man, more reserved with his emotions but his happiness was clearly noticeable if one took a glimpse at his sparkling blue eyes.
There was only one problem, though, they were giant, like huge. They towered over me, the woman was holding me easily in her arms.
Wait…They weren't giant, I was tiny.
I was then that I realized I was a baby and I knew I wasn't supposed to be one. I got reborned, reincarnated, whatever you want to call it.
I unconsciously made a few gurgling noises; I had no control on my actions. Before I could think about my situation more, I once again fell into blissful sleep.
The next time I regained consciousness, I was still in my mother's arm, she was holding tightly to her chest, as if I was an invaluable treasure, which I probably was in her mind, but she was now sound asleep, giving birth was an exhausting task. I could feel her love and I instinctively loved her as well.
Wait, how do I know all of that?
I tried to recall memories, anything of my past life, because I was sure I had one, no baby had the level of cognition I had, but I couldn't… Everything was blank, I still couldn't remember anything, it was as if my memory had been wiped out, only my knowledge remained.
I knew an awful lot about the human body, but I no idea how or when I learnt it and I was certain that no newborn normally had that knowledge, I was sure that I wasn't supposed to know that a normal human had twenty-seven bones in each of their hands, but I knew.
I tried to continue thinking about my predicament, but my body had a different opinion; I fell onto Morpheus embrace for the second time of the day.
Days passed, months disappeared in the blink of an eye and I continued to act like a baby, it was not as if I had any other choices, though I was certainly a very smart baby, I had managed to walk when I was a mere seven-month-old and managed to speak my first word at around the same time. This was a month ago. I had also learnt a bit about who and where I was.
Sadly, the people here spoke a different tongue, reminding me of Japanese, but I wasn't sure it was that, I had never learnt it in my past life, but I was picking it up pretty fast, I had nothing else to do with my time, so I listened to people speak all day long in hope of understanding them one day.
I was ejected out of my train of thoughts when my mother came back from wherever she was, she looked tired, her eyes dropping and blond hair wild. As soon as she saw me, though, she light up like a lightbulb, eyes shining, suddenly looking much happier, younger and energetic.
"Ah, how's my little Hana? Did you have a good sleep?"
I answered by gurgling, as I did most of the time, it was too complicated to speak with a baby's mouth so far, not worth the hassle.
"Yes, are you hungry? Yes, you are!"
My mother then proceeded to breastfeed me and I let my baby instincts take control. At first, it was a bit embarrassing to be treated like a baby, but I got over it with time, as I was a baby, had needs, and was not able to provide for them myself.
People talking to me slowly with simple words had also helped me learn a lot about the language, thus making me able to understand when the adults were talking.
I had learnt that my name was now Hana Yudoku, I was a girl and I think I was also one in my past life. My parents were merchants or something very similar, they were often talking (probably bargaining) with people, which was very beneficial to me learning of the language quickly and they travelled a lot, often with me, sometimes they paid someone to take care of me.
Also, I definitely was not in the same world anymore, plenty of inventions I had knowledge of like cars and planes, amongst others, simply did not exist. And people were able to do inhuman feats, I had witnessed someone spit a lightning bolt. I knew that was not supposed to be possible. But here it was a common occurrence.
My parents had talked a bit about it and there was apparently something called chakra which could be used to do this, I think, though I was not too sure, but they couldn't use it, they were simply civilians who profited of the new and safe road between two cities to trade. Once again I wasn't too sure.
They were certainly successful, though, we lived very comfortably, we weren't rich by any means, but we certainly did not have financial problems, which was nice.
In short, I was a happy baby with a happy family in a strange land.
I had no complaints.
I wanted to learn how to spit lightning.
When I was two, I figured out I was in a world of deadly ninjas. It reminded me of…something, but I couldn't exactly figure out what.
In truth, I had known for a while, but it was truly confirmed when I had seen my maternal grandfather. Or rather attended to his funeral. He was a Chunin from a minor clan in his youth, but he had left active service aeons ago. He was killed protecting my parents from a bandit ambush, taking thirteen of them by himself.
Being a merchant was dangerous, and sometimes, events like this made me wish my parents would change career. I don't want them to die like my grandfather. I don't what I'd do without them.
My mother was very sad for a few weeks, but eventually got over it, she was a strong woman and living as old as my grandfather was already considered a blessing, most people died surprisingly young here, he had a good and fulfilling life, he died with very few regrets.
I did not know him a lot, but I was also sad, he was a good and pleasant man the few times I had seen him.
Something else I had learnt was that the world was separated in countries and, within each country, there was a ninja village. The head of the village was called the Kage and the leader of each country was a Daimyo.
My mother was from Kumokaguere, her tanned skin was enough of a proof, while my father was from the land of frost, whatever that was, he had pale, almost white skin and black hair.
I had a mix of the two, only a slightly tanned skin, but had inherited my father's blue eyes and black hair. It was obvious I was not from any village. Still, people didn't seem to care.
I still spent most of my time learning as much as I could, I was now discreetly trying to learn how to read, which was proving to be much of a challenge. The rest of the time I spent with my parents, playing or simply bonding with them.
I was still happy.
I still wanted to learn how to spit lightning.
I was three when my parents left…and never came back.
When my parents left for longer trips, I was usually placed with a caretaker until they were finished except this time they never returned.
I was placed at an orphanage in Kumogakure, in the land of lightning. I was never told why they left me, but I gathered, by listening to the adults, that they were very probably killed by shinobi when they were travelling back from Konoha. It wasn't a surprise, the tension between the two countries, the land of fire and the land of lightning, were at an all-time high, people were whispering about a war between the two countries.
While it wasn't a surprise, I was devastated, now an orphan, I had no other living relative anybody knew of. There was no funeral for my parents, when they were killed, their murderer also took all of their hard-earned money. Nobody could pay for their funeral and their bodies were never found. They just disappeared, one day they were here, laughing and smiling, and the next day they didn't exist anymore.
I spent my days holed up in my room, mourning my parents, no one bothering me, the orphanage was horribly understaffed, they were too many orphans, so nobody cared about me anymore, I was just another kid who lost his parents to shinobi, there were too many like me.
I made a promise to myself, I would have my revenge, no matter what it took.
But the more that I thought about it, the more that it depressed me….
Why did they have to die… They were simply civilians, there was no need to kill them. Weren't shinobi supposed to protect the civilians? Why them in particular? Why couldn't it be another family, just not mine?
I was not happy anymore.
But I needed to learn of the spit lightning.
Three weeks later, I was told that my parents' bodies had been found and it had been concluded that they were killed by a squad of Konoha shinobi, very probably acting on the orders of the village, thus the Hokage. It was one of the many skirmishes between the two villages. Not the first and certainly not the last, just another casualty. And I was just another victim of this all.
I was taken to see my parents one last time and I almost regretted it. Almost.
As I walked toward the morgue, a shinobi escorting me, I could feel the tension in the air, the whole village was prepared for war, it wouldn't take long it started. Stall owners were packing up, weapon sales exploded, there was more shinobi than usual in the streets and people eyed their neighbours with suspicion.
As I entered a normal-looking building and took the stair, I was given a few pitying stare by the people who knew what the building's use was, but I ignored them, like I usually ignored everyone.
My escort and I stayed silent the whole trip, until we arrived in front of a door marked with the number "9".
"You have fifteen minutes. You can leave before if you wish. The bodies will be incinerated tomorrow."
He said, no particular emotion showing, it probably wasn't the first time he had to do this, then gestured the door to me and I abode, entering the room. He followed behind me.
The room was bare, except a piece of clothes, a kind of the mat or carpet, I think, with two cadavers on it.
I hesitantly looked up, not wanting to know, but I knew that I would regret if I didn't do this.
I steeled myself and raised myself looking at the two deceased, it wasn't hard for me to recognize my parents, even with the state they were in.
Half of my father's body was burnt to a crisp, a sick black and crimson colour, while the other half was unharmed except for a kunai-shaped hole in the eye. A bit of brain had leaked out of his eye socket.
According to the ninja, he was hit by the explosion of a great fireball jutsu, then killed by a kunai immediately after. He told me it had been near instantaneous.
My mother had a dozen fist-sized whole littering her body, but concentrated on her stomach. They hadn't bothered to clean her, so there was blood everywhere.
Still according to the ninja, she was shot by water bullets. That explained the holes.
At least their deaths had been quick.
I lifelessly stared at them, the fact they were dead now only registering in my mind. I hoped this was a dream, but this was too real to be a dream...I was alone now, I had no family, no one... At one point I started to cry, but I didn't notice, it was unconscious.
I memorized the sight, committing each and every detail in my memory.
Now that I knew who had done it, I had my target, Konoha would pay, I said to myself, but I could not bring myself to be angry at the moment, I was simply sad.
My shoulder dropped and tears continued to rain down my face, but I did not notice, I continued to stare at my parents.
I was handed a bucket, I took it without realizing and emptied my stomach, still looking at the corpses. I could not look away.
When my time was up, I left the morgue with a blank look and emotionless face, nobody bothering to check up on me.
I was not happy.
But I was determined.
A couple of weeks later, the son and heir of the Land of Fire's Daimyo was assassinated by Kumogakure.
Konoha declared war on Kumo.
Then Iwa declared war on the Konoha because their Kage was attacked by Madara. They allied themselves with Kumo.
Then the Suna declared war on the Iwa because they wanted more territory, allying with Konoha at the same time.
Then Kiri declared war on absolutely freaking everyone because why the fuck not? They were crazy, everyone knew that, but they mostly wanted to strike while the other villages were weak. It was the perfect time for that.
Then the handful of small countries and villages allied themselves to whoever they could to not get destroyed and razed to the ground.
It was the Shinobi World War, and it was brutal. Fortunately, I was still young and in one of the safest places in the world, I'd be fine.
While I had gathered this information, by listening to shinobi in the past couple of weeks, tension and stress got even worse, at an all-time high, a war of this scale was unheard of.
I was still mourning, but I knew I needed to get over it, otherwise I would lose myself, and there was no one that could or would pull me out of it, so I had also made myself some goals in those weeks, to prevent me from falling too low, I would enrol in the academy when I could, become a ninja, no matter what it took, and become powerful enough to have my revenge.
No matter how long it took.
No matter how hard it'd be.
I'd have my revenge.
When I was four, the Raikage, the leader of Kumogakure, removed the minimal age to enter the academy, that was previously seven years old. The war was not going into our favour, we would lose if the trend stayed the same, so we needed more ninja, and Genin died more than other ninjas as they were weaker and had less experience. Still they were useful, essential even, to the village, quantity over quality.
It still baffled me, though, that they would send small kids, younger than ten years old, to train to become killers.
I, along with many other orphans, was shoved directly into the Academy, to speed through the curriculum as fast as we could. It was not hard to see why, the village desperately needed that manpower, else we'd lose and orphans already cost the village a lot and nobody would miss them if they died. They were ideal for war.
I was not complaining, I needed to become a ninja. But I was worried, I wouldn't be able to have my revenge if I died before I reached ten years old. But since I was basically glorified cannon fodder, I didn't have high hopes for my future. I would find a way to stay alive, but for that I needed to be strong.
My first day at the Academy was an interesting and boring one at the same time.
I was in a class with other orphans or civilians who had enlisted, not the clan children, so most of my classmates had never handled a weapon and did not know how to read very well. I was also the youngest here, most of the kids were around seven or eight years old, though one of them was six years old.
I was still the youngest by two whole years, but probably the one who could read the best and the smartest kid. It was not a brag, more of a fact since I had an adult's mind.
I received many strange and pitying looks, from both the other students and the teachers, but nobody said anything, it was war, and sacrifices needed to be made. I would just be another one of them.
The teacher had explained the curriculum and what was expected of us if we wanted to graduate. We needed to be able to do the three basic jutsu: clone, replacement and transformation, have minimum accuracy when throwing kunais or senbon and have minimum skill at taijutsu. There was also a written exam, but the bar wasn't set high, only essential knowledge for shinobi was there, nothing complicated.
If after three years, the war was still ongoing and we had not graduated yet, we would be thrown onto the front lines, way to motivate the students.
After a couple of weeks in the Academy, it became apparent I was somewhat of a genius, I picked up everything way faster than the other children in my class. I did not bother hide it since I needed to become strong and I would be thrown in the battlefield anyways, so I preferred to be prepared as best as I could. And nobody cared about a genius kid right now, nobody had the time or energy to care.
The classes were split into two categories, theory and practical. Practical was sparring, taijustsu, breaking out of genjutsu, kunai throwing and the basic jutsus while theory was anatomy, what plants were edible, strategy, how to survive in the wild, and signs, and so on. Normally there would have a lot more classes, but desperate times call for desperate measures, thus the new academy curriculum was born.
It was all ridiculously easy. For me at least. I had an adult's mind in a child's body, so it was a given, but it was evident my classmates were struggling, most of them did not even want to become shinobi, they had heard the horror stories about the war, how the life expectancy for a Genin was only a couple of months and on the front lines, mere days. Nobody wanted to die and going to war meant death.
In terms of skill, I was the best.
My chakra control was also amongst the best, but that was probably because of the pitiable amount of chakra I had, being a civilian and only four years old, I had barely enough to do a single jutsu.
But where I truly shined was when I was throwing weapons, particularly senbon, my accuracy was unreal, and I had no idea why, it just came naturally to me.
I was also not bad in taijustsu, my technique was excellent, as I knew all the weak points of the body, I just knew them, but I lacked the strength necessary to do any real damage, even with a weapon.
People were once again looking weirdly at me, but for a different reason now. I was the orphaned, genius kid. I had not shot down the few that had attempted to make friends with me, I still needed social contact one in a while, but I was strangely intimidating to the other kids. The fact that I was the youngest by a long shot certainly did not help.
So I spent most of my time with that was not spent training and reading with a boy, Karyo, another orphan. He was also amongst the youngest in the class, being only seven, but while he wasn't as talented at me, he had a lot of potential. With a bit of work, he would make a fine shinobi.
The other children were jealous of me, but they did nothing, they were scared. Of what? Of my talent, of the war, of the fact that one day they would be sent into the front lines and never come back. And they knew I would be sent to the war sooner than later so it was pointless to try and alienate me, especially since I was more talented.
Nobody had time or energy for petty conflicts like this.
The atmosphere in the village was oppressive, the war was still raging strong and violently, people died, wives became widows, kids become orphans. And the war was still not going into our favour, but it was at least going better.
I had found a strange form of happiness in all that training, it prevented me from thinking too much about my parents. It prevented me from being sad and vulnerable.
I knew that I was very much emotionally unstable, but I didn't have the time nor the energy to care.
I was determined.
I was happier than before.
Months passed and the gap between me and the rest of my class became apparent, at my fifth month into the Academy, I had been able to perform my first jutsu, the replacement technique. I had mastered the two others not long after. I had continued to improve in my other aspect and my chakra capacity had grown, I could now do three basic jutsus without problems, but the fourth one would make me drop in exhaustion. It was still pitiful, but there was nothing I could do about it except training, but I already did that.
But it was not only genius, it was mostly hard work, every second that I did not spend inside the Academy, I was at a training ground, training, in the library or questioning ninjas, looking for training methods.
Said ninjas rarely took me seriously, but still told me basic chakra control exercises and other training methods to humour me, I was a very cute kid and I shamelessly used that to my advantage. Nobody could resist me looking at them with big watery eyes, a small pout and a sad face, not even battle hardened ninja. I was an adorable kid and I knew it. And seeing small cute kids like me reminded them for what they were fighting.
My apparent facility did not go unnoticed, though, several teachers had talked to me about my intentions toward the future, what I thought about the war, if I wanted to participate in it. I would probably graduate early, even if I would become a useful shinobi in the future with more training, the war was simply not going into our favour and that needed to change, but for that more ninjas were needed. Even shinobi with a lot of potential had to be sacrificed.
Karyo still spent a bit of time with me, but I wasn't a great friend, they were better people to hang out with in the class. He continued to be my friend for some reason, and I was grateful for that, I don't know what it'd do without even a little bit of human contact. I'd turn crazy, probably.
A cloudy morning, not different from all of the other mornings, I was called into the headmaster's office along with several other students, but not any others of my class.
As I walked toward said office, I pondered about why I'd been called, I was still too young to graduate, I wasn't even five, so it couldn't be because of that. Maybe they would move me into a different class, a more advanced one.
After I entered, I quickly noticed that we were approximately thirty students here, all of them double my age, at least. In the surprisingly large office, the headmaster was filing a paper, sitting behind his desk. He looked even more tired than most other shinobi, his grey hair turning white from the stress and shoulder hunched under an invisible but eternal weight.
After some minutes of tense silence, he finally looked up and we all simultaneously bowed. He cleared his throat before starting to speak, in a serious but sad or reluctant tone.
"Tomorrow afternoon, another troop of shinobi will depart from the village to go on the front line against Konoha. This troop of shinobi is missing a critical part to be fully functional, Genin. We cannot afford to send them without being full, Genin are as important as other shinobi. You thirty students have all been chosen to be part of it as you are the finest ninja in this academy. The graduation test will not be necessary as your prowess and talent has been assured by your teachers. You are now all proud Genin of Kumogakure. Do honour to your village."
He looked intensely at us before calling the first name.
"Sakahiro Adero"
Said student, a tall but young-looking boy, walked until he was in front of the headmaster.
"Serve your village well." He said while handing the now shinobi his forehead protector.
As I watched this proceeding, I was internally surprised and not very happy. This was not ideal, it was too soon for me to go into the front lines, I already knew that one day I would have to go to the war, but I had expected it to be when I would be at least six years old and more experienced, better. Not now, but if they called me so soon , they must be truly desperate for every shinobi they could get.
I needed to redo all of my plans for the future, I needed to survive. I could not avenge my parents if I died now. I could not do anything if I died right now.
While I was still thinking about my future, the headmaster had continued to call the names of the now Genin until it was my turn.
"Hana Yudoku"
As all the others did before me, I walked closer to him, looking up to be able to look at him in the eyes. Piercing blue clashed with deep brown eyes.
"You are the youngest graduate in the history of this village. Do you village honour. I hope to see you after the war," he said in a melancholic tone, looking away from me, it was clear he did not want to send me to the front lines, it pained him, but what choice did he have…
"Thank you, I will do my best."
I accepted the headband and calmly returned to my previous position, but I was worried, I was young and inexperienced, I did not want to die. The front lines were harsh, especially for a child like me. At least I would be able to get revenge against those Konoha scum.
I would have to fight.
But most importantly, I would have to win.
I could not afford to lose.
And losing meant dying.
A/N: Don't worry I won't turn my character into an edgelord and there won't be Konoha bashing, the hate won't be eternal (: I hope to be able to do some good character developement. Also, the pace will slow down a bit next chapter (:
