Naruto: The Story of the Moth, Part I

by Shil.ancz.oh

What if we learned the story of one jinchuriki, from the very beginning? What if Indra and Ashura had a sister… a powerful Seer, who'd show humans their true Darkness, leading them towards the Light? What if her reincarnation lived the life of Izumi Nanusake? Her Shinengan, worthy of competing with Sharingan, slowly casing shadow on the ninja world, in the days of Naruto Uzumaki.

1. Chapter 1: The Night Of

Naruto: The Story of the Moth, Part I

.

Ratings: Adult themes, sexual references.

Naruto AU. I do not own any Naruto characters.

.

Chapter 1: The Night Of

A girl with white-as-snow wavy hair was kneeling in front of the altar in concentration. It's been 5 years since her birth, and still, not a single child has been conceived in the womb of any member of the clan to which she belonged. Her mother, already one of Nanusake's most distinguished shinobi, gained an even greater position among her relatives, thanks to her newfound fertility. Today was the day for Nanusake's women to try again for new offspring. Akira was kneeling with her eyes closed, a soft child's prayer coming from her rosy lips.

"Dear Mother Moth, if you can hear me, send me a little sister, please. Give my mother Midori your gift tonight."

The flames of the candles flickered slightly. The incredibly fluffy white moth suddenly sat on the altar, attracted by the mesmerising glow of the fire. Akira looked up at her. She smiled, running her finger along the insect's tiny fur. There were traces of dried blood under her fingernails.

X

Group of men, wearing robes, waiting under the round altar, in the stone hall divided into two areas. Elder women in horn crowns, sitting on the podium around the ritual fires and the stone altar started to play instruments and sing, their synchronised and pure voices filling the place with mesmerising melodies.

Younger women, the priestesses are dancing. They all are wearing masks, showing only the lower parts of their faces. They slowly approach the men, moving their bodies to the sound of ritual music, their feminine beauty stuns them leaving them speechless.

The guests are excited beyond comparison, but they're not allowed to touch a girl or get up from their seats until the girls choose them, and give them consent by making the first move.

The women's long black hair waves like a storm with every movement. The glow of torches and numerous candles reflects off their sylphlike bodies covered with essential oils. They wear nothing but transparent skirts, long and light as butterfly wings and numerous chains and bracelets glittering with gold and diamonds. Each of the girls, with mesmerizing movements, slowly approaches the man she has chosen. She gives him the dance of his life, slowly joining her chosen one in a loving embrace. The sounds of ritual drums, strings of guitars, pipes and rattles carry through the high ceilings of the ritual hall, complimented by the singing of the older priestesses and the passionate groans of the Youth.

One of them is a wild-eyed, black-haired beauty, Midori, named after her deep, grass-green eyes. The girl seems to be the most involved in the ritual, showering her partner with kisses, and bursting out with a warm, euphoric laugh every now and then. She seems to be in love, completely absorbed by a handsome man who reciprocates her passion with equal zeal. The two of them lie in each other's arms, bathed in the candlelight and the intense energy surrounding them that evening, their companions' moans of pleasure still resounding, but Midori and her perfect stranger seem to be completely oblivious to it. They stare into each other's eyes and, hungry for intimacy, exchange kisses. He suddenly removes the red ribbon from his long hair and wraps it around Midori's wrist, pushing aside the gold bracelets that cover her arms. The girl smiles cheerfully, pressing her head to his chest.

After the passionate night in the embrace of Cupid, the priestesses get up, slowly, naked, gather their scarce clothing and say goodbye to their lovers. One by one, they put their masks back on, the only clothing left on their bodies after everything. They go back down to the altar and out into the back of the temple. The men return to their countries and cities, keeping the night a contractual secret. Leaving behind a seed that would produce more beautiful and powerful warriors months later. They keep a pact with the clan never to return, under any circumstances, to try to find their mates or descendants.