Naoki's story:
My life has been a sad poem from the very start. My first memories, a night filled with fierce fires and screams that woke me from a child's dreams. I couldn't have been more than 4 years of age when the first village we live in was destroyed. I only remember being carried away into the flood of villagers running away from the fires and death. Chaos and Decay had become my mentors, an understanding that the world was quick to dissolve way the happiness you had. That people were as savage as animals when civility has been rotted away. Carrying what little we could from out homes that were no longer there, we made our way to a new village, but had to barter for our stay. The cold shoulders and uncaring hands of these village leaders did little to heal the fresh wounds and broken hearts we already had. There was bitterness in every plea and resentment in every thank you, a hardworking and productive village was reduced to beggars and the possession of slavers.
Fortunately village leaders never rule for long, and soon the masters that reigned over us were drawn down to peck at the dirt like the magpie they were, as a new ruler took their place. A ninja clan seized ownership over our village and their families took precedence within our homes, but it was not a sad change but a celebration. The ninja were kind, first inspecting us for our talents and warranting work best suited for our abilities, their pay and their consideration of our labour, was fair.
I wasn't very old when I met Kazumi, 'The beautiful harmony and peace'. She was, very special to me, her laughter and joy for living made my life ache for more. I opened my heart to happiness, letting chaos and decay fall way into ash cloud memories. Together we committed each other to happiness. Kazumi had a singing jutsu, historically used by ninja to amplify killing intent and battle morale. However she used it to emanate joy and happiness. This happiness couldn't last for long and a much darker front was approaching. The village was attacked.
Again fresh fires sparked fear in my eyes as people were drawn out of their homes, screaming in horror. I ran out, ran to where I knew I would be safe. The other villagers did the same, gathering weapons and shielding themselves with wooden crates and broken barrels, we ran to the Village leader; A ninja. Our faith in our leader remedied our spirits of fear, rallying us to defend our homes, but there was no hope to be found, only death, chaos and decay. The blood that spilled and the shields that shattered, covered the ground with misery and disappear. My Kazumi ran out, the buildings burning, and together we tried to run away, but out of the darkness they came. On Horseback they rode, and our speed could not match the fierce storm of hooves that galloped to the pounding of our hearts. With very little effort, we were captured, collected by the baskets they saddled to their animals.
I only remember the darkness of those weeks to follow. The cold and damp of the underground cage I was kept in, alone. The absence of joy in my heart and the constant worry I had for Kazumi, never left me. Where she was, what had happened to my village, I could draw no happy endings. My mind would have splintered from the maddening thoughts I felt tear at my soul, if it was not for the memory of her that kept me lucid, even though they too were a cause for distress.
The prison keepers split light from the opening, dragging in a dirty and ruffled person. The cloths, the prisoner wore, so torn that I could not identify if they were male or female. Their hair so mattered and long, that I could not distinguish the face hidden by bruises and scuff marks. I could not recognise her, but the voice I knew. She was placed in the cage next to me, the keepers leaving no light for me to see her by. I recognised her voice but she did not respond to me calling her name, she just sung a song I'll never forget no matter how hard I try.
Her lullaby continued on for days, he mind destroyed by whatever she endured. She pauses only to fall into complete silence to my pleas. The slow harmony of the lullaby as beautiful as it was horrifying; I could hear her smile as she sung it. The pain in her pulsating, my very being aching, the tone of her voice a burning agony that was felt. The depth of sorrow within the air, the threads of tears harmonised with every tip toe of the tongue, raging storming fires within me as I tried to rattle myself out of my cage to the song that would never stop echoing. Her dreadful lullaby became so concentrated within the walls of the prison that the hollowed spaces began to chime sinisterly along to it. Eventually they come again to take her out, all the while she sung this horrid lullaby.
Later that night, the place we were in was attacked. My cage mysteriously ripped open in the dark, and I ran out looking for Kazumi. The screams that echoed in the air felt like music, a mourning song, a dreadful relief. My captives lay there, on the ground, burning in pain. Their charred hands still gripping weapons, clawing at the earth and raving with agony as their bodies burnt. The fires were so large that I could only see parts of legs and arms thrashing and cursed with pain, their whole being consumed by its angered flames which hungered for more. I saw a man standing in the middle of the blaze, his weapons wet with blood, he stood their… staring at me.
The man who stared at me walked stiffly to a blazing inferno, and stepped in. The anguish on his face spoke more of tragedy then pain, as the fires slowed in their torment of him, burning slowly so that the flesh could boil and his eyes pop as the moisture in them exploded. He screamed out but his voice stiffened, taking away even the relief of expressing pain. Almost involuntary, he lifted a bony hand, it's flesh melted away, calling forward another man I had not noticed.
"Join me" he gasped, his fingers curling in invitingly, as his body crumbled and turned to ash. I stood there too afraid to move, petrified and confused, it was something I had never seen. I could not bring myself to look away as more victims fell into the same spell, all of them, the ones who captured us. Finally I found the strength to turn away from this nightmare that was real, I saw the buildings burning; it was our home. This butchers who captured us, took our home, and now it was burning again… but for their deaths.
I could not find Kazumi, I stayed there 3 days but had to leave on the fourth. My heart was heavy as I travelled, there was a village nearby but I could not find the strength to journey to it not know if she was alive or dead. I returned. From the little food I could find on the fourth day, I salvaged a camp to wait for her and search. Upon endless day after day of searching, I found a wooden bowl. It had Kazumi's name on it. It read.
'You've taken away, all the things that I love'
'the pieces of me float away like a dove'
'now I add to you my misery and torn heart'
'let it bring murder and fire to tear you apart'
'You've taken away all that was good in me'
'Now'
'all that is good in me, let it turn black like bile'
'all that is beauty, let it corrupt and blight'
'I commit no longer to happiness'
'I commit to Chaos and decay'
'Kazumi has become'
'The ugly imbalance and war'
I dropped the bowl, the words so severe, that my Kazumi was gone… forever. I made up my mind then, I would hunt down injustice and free the world from people like these men who could do such terrible things, people who destroyed my happiness and the harmony of love.
….
Days later I found a new village to call home. My words were struck from my mouth and for many days I went without talking, the horrors I had seen never mentioned. The song continued to play in my head, Kazumi who I knew now was dead, ringing in my ears endlessly. I found work with an old black smith who grew tired of the smith aids who wouldn't stop talking. His deafening ears kept demanding he repeated asking what was said, even though he himself didn't want to know what was spoken. The noise in the process of metal smiting drowned out the lullaby I could still hear.
The old man thought I was mute, which is why we had a good relationship, he would relate his stories of being a warrior in the feudal lord's army, while sharing his meals with me. Stories many people discounted because of the old man's age, but I could not discount them. I trusted his stories, I believed in his stern hands and steady focus.
Years passed, I earned the old man's trust and he learnt that I could actually speak. He began training me how to fight with a long pole Kyoketsu-shoge, which was similar to the halberd. It was a body length pole with an L shaped pike on its end, but with a spear head attached on to that. The favoured weapon of the Feudal lord's guard, it could be used to lance, stab, sever, drop down, impale, and keep the enemy back. Even when broken the weapon's uses only doubled, losing its ability to keep the enemy at a distance but speeding up your ability to attack and defend.
More than weapons training, the old man taught me to harden my body and mind, meditation and the practise of good eating. Darker foods were known to produce less smells and be absorbed more efficiently by the body, this and sleeping standing up was taught to me. All the practises and skill sets the guard of a Feudal lord maintained. I let myself fall into joy again, cherishing the company of the old man, but yet again my village was attacked. During the night, the raiders came, however this village was different. We had our own personal guard and regiment of a well-trained defence forces. I ran to the old man's place, he offered his weapon and asked that I take his place on the front lines, I took the offer without question.
This was my chance to take vengeance on the slaughter that befell all the places I came from. The guarded walls, the spears, the arrows and armour of our village would not fall so easy; however, it was not enough. The raiders were no savage disorganized attackers; they were ninja as well as massacres. I believed it was the same party that destroyed my Kazumi, ninjas as well as killers, that's why her clan was so easily wiped out. It wasn't a battle of hours, seconds passed and they were already within our walls, the guards unprepared for such a quick and unexpected attack. We were slaughtered like cattle too crowded and suffocated to move or retreat. Somehow I escaped, making it back to the old man.
He smiled at me, thinking it the blood of the enemy on myself, but he could see the look on my face. "Go to the South" he said, staring at me he grabbed his weapon and pulled it from my hands. "Listen to me boy, travel to the South. I will take care of things from here"
South was the sand Village; it is where I met my current master. A Kage ninja master who had long since passed his prim, not willing to be called by any name fearing to be termed old in any form. The term 'old fool' seemed to echo in the taverns, I believed that was where his fear resonated from. He was a master who refused to teach by the new ways, which was why he had no students. Until I arrived, a ragged and broken person, but he could see the steel in my eyes. As an outsider I had no complaint in being offered the opportunity to learn the ways of a ninja, and the old man taught me well regardless of what others thought of his methods. He taught that knowing is different from understanding, a lesson forgotten by the new age masters.
"Showing you how, will never develop you further then what you have learnt, but if I show you why" He paused to emphasise with a raised and wrinkled finger "you can learn far more on your own"
This was how my master taught me, never showing me the answer but instead teaching me the talents I needed to discover how to reach my conclusion. That it was better to know why and what the purpose for a given technique was, then it was to know how to do it. It was frustrating at times, I saw other ninja my age progress faster and do more quicker while I focused on grains of sand, but I learnt to do jutsus that were uniquely my own. My talents developed far beyond what could be taught and my lust for my passions drove me to ever more ambitious goals. No other ninja can make a giant graphite pencil, and no other ninja knows how to use my weapons jutsu.
"Except for you Arjies" I said to myself, for in our travels together I crafted a weapon for him; a smaller version of my own. Unique ninja need to look out for each other.
...
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All The characters created by the Author of Naruto belong solely to Masashi Kishimoto every other character belongs to I and those Authors that have lent me their characters.
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