Chapter 15: The Village Hidden in the Glacier
As always, Kazuya was the first to rise on the following day. He woke to the bitter chill of a midmorning mist as he got dressed into his usual, tight-fitted violet attire and headed out to pack up. Reizo's snores still drifted out of the open entrance when Shoryu awoke and joined the samurai outside the tent. Kazuya was so deep in thought as he stared southeast that he didn't realise the boy was there until he announced himself.
"Chilly day," Shoryu said, hugging his arms tightly as cold pimples of gooseflesh spread up them.
"The mist comes from my village; it must be only a few miles away from us now," answered the boy. The cold didn't bother him anymore; he'd grown up in the village where it was virtually always winter. Even when the rest of the Land enjoyed three months of summer the ice of the Village Hidden in the Glacier refused to thaw for any heat.
The pair enjoyed a quiet breakfast next to the damp bundle of wood that had been their fire last night. Once they'd finished a course of stale biscuits and cold chicken Ayako finally rose and met them outside. Today her hair flowed down almost to her shoulders, brushed neatly without any ties in a shade of soft blue like pale ice under sunlight. Kazuya noted the effort she'd gone to in order to make herself look prettier and the occasional look she'd give Shoryu, hoping for some kind of compliment.
Of course he also saw that Shoryu had noticed her new appearance and that he actually wanted to say something nice about it, though he was too awkward and embarrassed to form any words. Despite being raised away from shinobi principles of keen observation Kazuya saw these minor details in a heartbeat. Several seconds of silence passed before the samurai finally decided to raise the tension to score another point against his new rival.
"Shoryu thinks you look nice today," he said flatly.
The sudden statement caused Ayako to turn his way as she almost choked on her meal. "Excuse me?" she asked, pretending to have misheard him. The blush quickly streaking across her cheeks however told Kazuya she'd heard him perfectly.
"Ignore him, he's being a jerk," said Shoryu, giving Kazuya a glare.
Right before another argument could spark up between the two a rustling from the tent alerted them to Reizo's appearance. Being the first to fall asleep and the last to wake up he made his way out of the entrance, stretching out like a cat and giving a loud yawn to announce himself. His face was completely expressionless; either he'd heard nothing of the short conversation or he had the best poker face Kazuya had ever seen. Whatever the case, his arrival stopped the quarrel as quickly as it started.
"Alright, let's get down to business." He made his way over, though he never sat down, being eager to set off as soon as possible without anything to eat. "Kazuya, you've probably noticed already that I've took us along the southern pass, the one closest to your village. I wanted to give you the option of visiting any family you might have there, but it's up to you. I don't want to force anything on you. If you'd rather not go then I'll understand."
At least he was honest about his deception; Kazuya had to give him that. The boy considered for a few moments. He'd thought it over many times already, but he had to think about it one more time before he made his decision. Finally he realised that his wishes hadn't changed overnight. "Thank you sensei, but if it's all the same I'd rather give it a miss."
Reizo sighed, nodding his head. Behind those eyes Kazuya could see that his sensei was speaking from experience. He knew what it was like to have a difficult relationship with one's own family and he empathised with the boy, knowing that avoidance would only make everything worse. "In that case let's get going," he decided. "This letter won't deliver itself."
With that, Squad Thirteen set off along the crisp, crunching grass of the southern passage without any further delay. Within just two miles the frosted ground turned to light deposits of snow, and after another two they were almost ankle-deep in the stuff. Overcast clouds hung over the nearing border of the Land of Lightning, darkened and pregnant with snow that could fall at any time.
The moment he began to walk a sharp pain in Kazuya's back reminded him of his shameful defeat last night. His movements were sluggish to stop from aggravating it, though conversation would help take his mind off it.
Fresh mountain air filled their lungs and cleared their sinuses, and every mouthful felt like a refreshing glass of water going down parched throats. To the north snow-capped forests loomed uphill; to the east distant smoke from the chimneys of the neighbouring land rose up in countless columns, and to the south Kazuya could see the perilous slope where the snow thinned out and eventually became ice. Somewhere beyond the endless stretch of flat-light and slippery slopes lay the Village Hidden in the Glacier, the last place he wanted to be.
In spite of the cold Shoryu confessed that he loved it here. It was a stark contrast to the lofty mountains of his hometown and the sharp beige canyons they'd visited to the far north on their last C-Rank mission. Having crossed the southern passage many times Kazuya was no longer thrilled by the journey, though he couldn't help but admire Shoryu's newfound excitement.
As the snow thickened the two boys worked their way ten paces ahead of Ayako and Reizo. Shoryu drew a sword and began to swing practice shots at air whilst they walked, with Kazuya correcting him every now and again and retrieving his own to demonstrate. Evidently their training had evolved to the point where they even practiced on the move at Shoryu's request. It didn't do much in the long run, yet doing nothing but walking now frustrated Shoryu when there was so much he had to learn.
Kazuya actually enjoyed the tutelage until his sharp senses picked up on something he heard Ayako mutter under her breath behind them.
"Is it just me or are those two starting to look like each other?" she said.
He felt Reizo's eyes on the back of his head as the Jonin looked over the two of them. Shoryu carried on swinging his offhand sword, oblivious to their secret conversation.
"You're imagining things," replied his sensei, much to the samurai's relief.
In actuality though, Ayako hadn't been far off the truth. The two had completely different hair colours and styles and Shoryu's eyes were bright and vivid where Kazuya's were dark and solemn, although beyond that the two Genin actually shared a little in common. Shoryu only stood barely an inch over Kazuya and their faces both shared a similar sharp and angular look. Their arms and legs were almost the same shape and length and broad shoulders were common in both of them, although Kazuya's were significantly wider thanks to his years of physical training.
It was an odd coincidence, but nevertheless something Ayako couldn't help notice as the two spent more and more time together. As a daily check she unravelled each coloured scroll strapped to the back of the belt, finding to her dismay that her yellow needed replenishing.
"I'm just gonna cut ahead for a while if that's okay," she excused. "I need to refill my scrolls."
"Go right ahead," Reizo allowed.
The girl jogged forward and passed the two boys, crossing Shoryu with an awkward look before she carried on and disappeared into the forest. Kazuya sported a rare smile as he noticed this.
"You just had to ruin it didn't you?" Shoryu spoke the moment she was out of sight.
"You should've said something to her," Kazuya advised. "Bring your arm up a bit."
Shoryu elevated his arm and swung again into thin air using his shorter blade. This resulted in a satisfied hum from the samurai, allowing Shoryu to continue the conversation. "Easy for you to say. Not all of us are betrothed to some beautiful village girl; some of us have to bide our time and wait for the opportune moment."
Kazuya laughed to himself. "Seriously? 'Opportune moment'? You're thirteen not thirty – she's not exactly going to attack you if you just say something nice about her hair, she likes you. Anyway why would you say my fiancé's beautiful? You've never met her."
"She's good looking in my head," Shoryu reasoned with a shrug. "Also when you told me about your village, the part where you mentioned her was the only part where you didn't look so damn glum. I figured she must be at least an eight or a nine."
Kazuya shook in disapproval. "That's just shallow. For all you know I could like her for her personality."
"Oh come off it, we're beings of nature. I'm not saying personality isn't important and all, but it's just impossible to be interested in someone we don't find physically attractive."
For the next half an hour the topic of looks versus personality, a debate with no right answer, raged on without stop as the two continued their walking exercise. Behind them Kazuya heard his sensei let out a prolonged sigh at their incessant bickering over something so trivial.
Before long it began to snow heavy, palm sized droplets to coat the ground with a fresh cover of the fluffy substance. That changed the subject; Shoryu had never actually seen a snow shower before and remained amazed by the incredible phenomena he'd missed out on. He picked up a small mass and curled it into a ball in his fists, though before he got any bright ideas he heard Kazuya's voice ahead of him call out.
"Ice Style: Snowball!"
A solid, wet globe hit Shoryu's face hard like a poor punch to the cheek, forcing him to drop the powdery substance and look back up to his rival. He jokingly mocked Kazuya for a while about how that might have been the worst jutsu he'd ever encountered, and in response the boy explained that it was the first technique warriors of his village learned to perfect their abilities in the ice style. Making snow was the first step; then in time snow turned to sleet and sleet eventually became solid ice.
Another half an hour passed before the team decided to take a break. They settled down to an early dinner, and before they even tucked in the mood was ruined once Reizo reminded them of their new dilemma: Ayako was still missing. It made little sense; she usually only took twenty minutes at the most to replenish a colour scroll, and now a whole hour had passed.
Even as he theorised that she might've had trouble finding buttercups and dandelions under all the snow Kazuya felt the words stick in his throat; he didn't believe it any more than Shoryu or Reizo did. She was probably lost, or worse. After their meal Squad Thirteen decided to head out and look for her right as a deep blue javelin of chakra streamed into the sky from the nearby forest.
Without saying a word Shoryu, Kazuya and Reizo jumped to their feet. Ayako's blue shading technique was unmistakeable; she must have gotten into some kind of fight and signalled them to come her way. Guided by the occasional crimson firework erupting from the site of battle the team made their way into the woods and through the trees as fast as their legs would allow them to without bashing into one. Reizo cut ahead of them quickly; it wasn't long before he was completely out of sight, leaving Shoryu and Kazuya in a heated race to see who got there first.
With a team member's life at stake the samurai reflected that it might have been a little extreme to be competitive at a time like this. He reckoned Shoryu must've felt the same way too, but nevertheless it helped them run that little bit faster. Another spark went up into the air that spurred the two on as they realised the battle must be close by. In fact they were so intent on judging who was in the lead that it took them a few seconds to realise they'd actually arrived.
At the centre of a small clearing, flashes of red and blue from Ayako's glowing palms blitzed their way across a ten metre stretch as her opponent retaliated with consecutive blasts of ice that forced the newly blue-haired ninja to throw up what little yellow defences she had left. Before he even saw Ayako's opponent Kazuya recognised the technique immediately, and his heart lurched at the thought of encountering one of his own.
It was the ice style, the Kekkei Genkai of the Takashi samurai clan of the Village Hidden in the Glacier. Fate had been cruel to him and forced him into this encounter right after he'd rejected it earlier in the morning; Kazuya wanted to run and hide more than anything else, but as he skidded to a stop in the narrow, snowy clearing he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the samurai attacking his teammate. Only it wasn't a samurai - not technically anyway.
The girl, for women within the villages of samurai had never been permitted to be warriors, stood tall for her age with jet black hair tied into a ponytail behind her head. Her eyes were as grey and cold as the clouds above, and her chosen outfit was a tight-fitted white tunic laced together with violet, contrasting against the sheathed red katana that hung by her belt. She was as beautiful as she was stubborn; now that he'd seen her Kazuya knew he would never forgive himself if he ran – at least it was her rather than some random clansman.
"Fujiko?" he muttered in disbelief. "Fujiko! What are you doing?"
The girl's eyes met Kazuya's, and with a gasp she immediately diffused the ice in her hands and dropped to one knee in fealty to him, sustaining a nasty burn to her arm in the process from Ayako's already fired red. But she paid it little attention; from the wide gash it blazed into her shoulder it must've pained her terribly, yet she only winced a little and kept her head lowered.
"Ayako! Lay off!" Kazuya ordered.
His teammate turned to him with a look of surprise, refusing to negate the swirling cloud of red chakra she'd formed in her hands. "Are you crazy?" Ayako asked. "She tried to kill me!"
"She's a member of my clan!"
"So I noticed!" snapped the girl. "But she still attacked me!"
"Just let me talk to her," Kazuya instructed, having not seen the girl in months.
Ayako sighed and reluctantly dissipated the attack back into paper as she made her way over to Shoryu. As always Kazuya noticed everything; that look Shoryu sent his way seemed to communicate that he knew about this strange new girl. The way Kazuya looked at her and spoke with her gave it all away: this was the girl he'd mentioned before; his fiancé, the eldest daughter of the current Taisho of his clan.
Using awkward, forced steps Kazuya padded over to his future wife. "Stand up Fujiko – you know I hate it when people address me like that," he ordered.
Fujiko got to her feet as commanded. With one hand she covered the wound on her arm, and with the other she undid the ponytail that kept her dark hair tied up, allowing it to cascade down past her shoulders and reveal her true beauty. Kazuya cringed; he'd embarrassed Shoryu earlier, and if he'd learned anything at all about the boy he knew that now was time for a little payback.
"Oh snap Kazuya!" Shoryu's voice echoed painfully high and long around the clearing. "Nine and a half! I forget! What was it you were saying earlier?"
The samurai's palm met his head with a loud slap as both girls fixed Shoryu with a bewildered, open-mouthed stare.
"What did he say?" asked Fujiko.
"Ignore him, he's being a jerk." Kazuya found himself repeating the exact same words Shoryu had spoken earlier. His eyes then scanned around for the one member of Squad Thirteen who was nowhere to be seen. Where was Reizo? Had he been engaged by ninja as well, or had he really just gotten lost? Eager to change the subject, he added, "What are you doing out here anyway?"
Fujiko recounted previous events like she was reading from a shopping list as she kept a wary eye on Ayako. "The other night our village got visited by a squad of ninja – they started asking all sorts of questions, they refused to pay for anything and they might have just been the rudest people we've ever accommodated. They were led by a big guy, but the loudest by far was taller ninja with dark hair."
"Tairo and Kiyoshi's group," Shoryu mused. "It must've been before we encountered them last night – they were pretty angry if I remember rightly."
Kazuya nodded in agreement and beckoned for Fujiko to continue her story.
"After that my father set up patrols and authorised us to attack any foreign ninja who strayed too close to the village," she explained.
Despite himself Kazuya sighed in embarrassment. He heard the two behind him trade whispers before he continued, "And if our village actually took a few minutes to educate themselves about the different shinobi marks you'd all know that Ayako isn't a foreign ninja." He paused to tap the metallic symbol on his forehead protector and then pointed to the same one that Shoryu and Ayako each bore. "See that? It's the Cloud Village mark – Land of Lightning ninja."
"Oh. . ." Once again Fujiko's gaze dropped to the floor, feeling humiliated for making such an easy mistake. She wasn't the only one though; Kazuya knew that half the warriors in his village couldn't tell you the difference between a cloud and a leaf mark. Ayako was lucky to run into Fujiko of all people – she would've been killed by some of the older, more advanced samurai for sure.
"But that still doesn't explain what you're doing here Fujiko," Kazuya started. With one swift movement he snatched the crimson covered sword from her belt. She looked even more nervous than before as he surveyed it, pulling back the handle and observing the familiar craftsmanship. "Where did you get this? You know you're not supposed to carry swords."
"Alright I stole it," she admitted, chewing her lip in anxiety as she confessed to her crimes. "But it's so boring in the village! I only wanted to take a shift out here. You said you'd allow women to be warriors when you become Taisho!"
"And I will." Kazuya placed a comforting hand on her shoulder; the first time his two teammates had ever seen him comfort anyone. Shoryu smirked as Ayako's eyebrows almost reached the top of her forehead. Having spoken little to Kazuya she knew nothing of his relationship with this strange girl.
"But until then I've got to respect your father's wishes," added the samurai. "If he knew I let you run around with this thing he might reconsider appointing me as his successor."
Fujiko smiled weakly. "You're right. . . I'm sorry," she conceded.
Before she had the chance to apologise further the soft padding of footfalls upon snow sounded from the north as all four teenagers turned to a shaded region of the woods. Reizo had suddenly appeared; he made his way towards them with a sheepish smile as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
"Sorry about that!" he announced. "I must've gotten lost. I was so eager to reach the fight that I ran right past you; but you seem to have everything under control here, good work."
As always the Jonin's skills at keeping a straight face were flawless. Deception was all part of a shinobi's job and Reizo was one of the best, yet often the best laid plans didn't foil everyone. Kazuya suspected him immediately, and his highly trained eyes slyly followed the tracks back through the woods. Heavy footprints were left where he'd walked, though they stopped after about ten metres at the base of a fern.
Kazuya's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was watching us the entire time from that tree. Why didn't he intervene before I did? Why would he just watch the fight between those two and do nothing about it? Was he just testing Ayako? What for? His mind raced around the different possibilities until his fiancé interrupted his brainstorm.
"So you're visiting us? That's why you're here right?"
Kazuya's heart stopped. Here was the dilemma he'd been dreading ever since he saw her. Now that someone from the village knew he was close by he couldn't very well just leave them; they'd feel betrayed and abandoned by the man who was supposed to be their future leader. Even so, visiting again was the last thing he wanted. "Yeah, about th-"
"-Hang on," she cut him off. "That wouldn't make sense! You're heading that way, and the village is back that way!" She pointed south. "You were travelling this close and you didn't even want to visit?"
Shoryu's singing voice drifted in from the background. "Busted."
"I just didn't have the time," Kazuya reasoned, ignoring his partner's jape. "We're on a very important mission." It was a lie – he'd already been offered the chance of going out there by his squad commander, he just didn't want to return without a decent sum of money to appease the clan. The lie might have worked too, if Reizo hadn't opened his mouth.
"It is an important mission, but it's not especially dangerous and we don't need four people to do it. I could probably do it by myself in fact," said the squad leader. Even a warning glare from the samurai wasn't enough to still his tongue. "Kazuya, stay with your family. We'll come and pick you up on the way back in a couple of days. I'll make sure you receive the mission's full pay too."
The samurai protested, "But I couldn't possibly-"
"-Relax. There's no shame in it; we'll only be walking so you won't miss out on much. If you stay in one place you'll have time to do something useful like training. Just make sure we don't get attacked by a band of samurai when we make our way back."
"That's great! Come on!" exclaimed Fujiko as her fiancé was left speechless. There was no choice now – he had to return to the village. He silently cursed Reizo for his meddling, whether it was for the greater good or not.
Kazuya was happy so far that only Shoryu from his squad knew about his betrothal to Fujiko. Ayako and Reizo could speculate on their relationship based on the brief conversation they'd witnessed, but as long as it was mere guessing on their part they would never know the truth for sure unless Shoryu betrayed his trust and told them all about it.
For that reason his heart sank when Fujiko pecked him lightly on the cheek and grabbed his hand, leading him excitedly back towards the direction of the village. He cringed as he saw the shocked expressions of his female teammate and his Jonin commander, followed by a twinge of irritation when Shoryu whispered an explanation to Ayako:
"He's quick with the girls," joked the boy.
"We'll see you soon Kazuya! Have fun!" Reizo called after him.
An hour passed in no time at all as the two teens of the Village Hidden in the Glacier caught up and reminisced. Heading south the snow on the ground got thinner and thinner whilst the snow in the air morphed into sleet that melted the moment it hit the ground. Before long the environment got so cold that even grass couldn't survive for long, and it was this turn in climate that had forced Kazuya to join the ranks of the ninja in the first place.
The village had always been cold, but the sudden further drop in temperature had killed many crops that the samurai made a living by selling. The snowstorms in winter became so violent that only samurai who knew the land could navigate them, reducing their custom even further. With the village in an economic crisis Kazuya joined the ninja to earn some more ryo for basic supplies. He'd earned a little so far, and he only hoped it would be enough to satisfy the Taisho until he made Chunin.
Finally the two came to what local samurai called 'The Glacial Drop' – a deadly, near-vertical descent made up entirely of dripping ice that sloped down almost three hundred metres through a shadowed arch and into the village itself. It was the only way to get to and from the Glacier; most traders avoided it and so most sales were done up here on the edge, but to get up or down one had to climb or abseil through the swirling mist that shrouded the deadly descent.
Over a hundred secure, steel nails had been hammered into the ground where the flat land suddenly plummeted into sloping ice, and attached to each a huge length of rope dangled down the hill. Used in conjunction with an ice axe these ropes allowed the samurai passage up and down the mountain. Even with this safety the Glacial Drop was still perilous – at the foot of the mountain the swords of over a hundred fallen samurai were thrust into the ground as a constant memorial to those who had died.
Fujiko made her way through the fog and over to one of the metal spikes, gingerly keeping her distance from the sharp drop as she began to unravel the rope tied to it.
"I don't think you'll need that," said Kazuya. He walked over to the edge and looked down at the drop, sizing it up like a challenger.
"Why? Do you know another way down?" asked Fujiko, curious.
"Walking," he muttered in response. He continued to weigh up the Glacial Drop with a vague smile.
"What, is there a passage around that I don't know about or something?"
"No, I mean walk down the drop."
"Huh?" Fujiko joined him at the mountainside and stared at the descent. "Kazuya it's a three hundred metre drop at eighty degrees down ice. It's not something you can just walk down."
"I know, but a few days ago I mastered this thing called the 'stream technique'. My sensei, Reizo, told us that if we could do that, then walking on walls and ceilings should be no problem," revealed the boy.
"And have you actually tried it yet?" pressed Fujiko.
"No, but I've got a good feeling about it, all I have to do is direct chakra to my feet in a steady flow. The stream technique was in my hands so it should be easy to just redirect it."
Kazuya was speaking nonsense to Fujiko. The samurai way was simply to use chakra, not to understand it or manipulate its qualities for convenience. Many of the warriors in his village were so adept with using the Ice Style that he figured most of them would be able to scale the Glacial Drop with just their feet if they actually took a few lessons to learn the science of it. Confidently the boy put one foot over the edge.
"Kazuya wait!"
But he was already gone. Fujiko averted her eyes and let out a small scream at seeing her boyfriend step over the edge to what should've been a painful death. Kazuya's modest laugh though told her that she couldn't have been more wrong. When she finally dared to turn back around he was stood perfectly still, defying the laws of physics on the angled, iced over drop. Her face lit up.
"That's incredible!" she cried.
"It's actually a pretty basic shinobi skill. Come on then, hop on my back."
Kazuya walked back up to the cliff edge and allowed Fujiko a moment to nervously survey the drop one more time.
"Don't you trust me?" he teased.
The girl pouted with a glare of disapproval before casting his doubts into a fire by jumping up on his back. He held her securely with his arms underneath her knees as the pair set off at a steady pace down the mountain. With the extra weight he had to spend a little more chakra, but since she was light enough it did little to his overall stamina. With the first twenty steps or so Fujiko was terrified he might slip and couldn't even bring herself to look at the sheer height of the fall that awaited them in case that happened. Once Kazuya started talking though, she forgot all about it and placed all her faith in him.
"This mountain doesn't seem so bad to me anymore," he reflected. "It used to really scare me as a kid."
"I'm not surprised. My father took you up here three years before anyone else our age." Fujiko suddenly remembered with a shudder the time the Taisho had told her that he intended to take her betrothed up the Glacial Drop at the age seven.
Kazuya hummed in agreement. "He was just trying to toughen me up a bit. He's always had high hopes for my future; I don't suppose he had joining the shinobi in mind though," he lamented.
"He'll get over it someday," she reminded softly, warm breath blowing over his ear. "They all will. You did what was best at the time.
"Shame no one else sees it that way. Then again I don't suppose his dreams for you were to go sneaking out of the village traipsing around with swords either."
A light slap on the back of his head suddenly reminded Kazuya to stop being so uptight. He'd put on such a cool façade ever since he joined Squad Thirteen, and of all the shinobi in the Village Hidden in the Clouds only Shoryu had managed to reveal parts of his true personality.
"You won't tell him will you?" said Fujiko.
Kazuya laughed. "Only if you don't tell him that I planned to pass right by the village without saying hi."
"Deal," she resolved.
"Alright give me a minute." They were only about a fifth of the way down the Glacial Drop when Kazuya suddenly stopped and shifted his posture a little. He turned side-face with his feet in a wide stance like some kind of surfer.
"Wait, what are you doing?" asked Fujiko.
"This is ice right? So if I reduce the flow of chakra just a little. . ." One glance back to her bewildered expression told the samurai she had no idea what he was talking about. He shook his head and smiled. "Just hold on tight."
With that, Kazuya dropped the steady amount of chakra flowing to the soles of his feet by a tiny margin, causing them to slowly slide down the Glacial Drop. Frightened, Fujiko clung to him more tightly as he dipped the chakra even further. The pair suddenly accelerated into a sideslip of alarmingly fast speeds that was sure to have them down the mountain in no time, be it dead or alive.
Mixed screams of terror and exhilaration could be heard from the outskirts of the village as the future Taisho with his betrothed on his back skidded down to where the Glacial Drop levelled out into flat land. With the speed they'd built up Kazuya and Fujiko should've slammed straight into a nearby building at speeds faster than the samurai's maximum strain of dojutsu, though with a building increase of chakra to Kazuya's feet the pair slowed down to a steady stop right at the base of the drop.
Despite his initial reluctance Kazuya couldn't deny that it was great to see the Village Hidden in the Glacier in all its magnificence once again. Over six long months had passed since he joined the Cloud to study, joining Squad Thirteen some two months later. As such, he'd almost forgotten what his home looked like.
Glacier Village was a large valley made up of frosted ground and patches of black ice, enclosed by the tallest cliffs Kazuya had ever seen on its east, west and south side with the Glacial Drop to the north, protecting it from enemies and wild predators alike. Snow covered homes were roofed with slate that curved upwards complete with chimneys that constantly smoked, a type of architecture that was relatively unused outside of samurai villages. The occasional cherry blossom tree sprung up from the fenced paths that connected the village, sprinkling it with a taste of vivid pink here and there.
Fields of crops growing wheat, corn and rice surrounded the village right inside the shadow of the encircling ice cliffs. This protected them from the cold sweeping gusts that claimed the village's core in winter, and their close proximity to the few hot springs allowed them to absorb what little heat they could. Ice cold waterfalls every fifty metres used for endurance training leaked from the cliffs and trickled down into the village, forming tiny streams crossable by pleasant little bridges and eventually stopped by ancient stone monuments depicting legendary swords, samurai philosophies and long dead Taisho.
Ominous tracks of mist snaked through the village on random paths in complete disregard of the wind. They seemed almost alive; writhing past homes and crop fields they unsettled most newcomers, dissipating into thin air after a few minutes or ascending into the sky.
After finally taking in the breathtakingly gorgeous scenery Kazuya placed his bride to be gently on the ground as farmers and samurai alike rushed out to bow to their future leader once more. A few seemed genuinely happy to see him, though Kazuya saw clear contempt behind many of the false smiles.
"Kazuya!" sounded a voice, one that the samurai recognised immediately.
As quickly as he could Kazuya spun around and dropped to his knees, placing both fists firmly on the ground as a sign of loyalty. "Honoured Taisho, I am yours to command." Without even noticing he'd slipped back into the cold persona he used for interacting with his squad. He'd always been close with the village leader, but he'd been gone for half a year; he had to remain as respectful as possible.
"Damn it rise Kazuya," instructed the Taisho, much to the boy's relief. "You're no stranger here. Six months is a long time to be gone though; walk with me."
Kazuya rose immediately and fell into step beside his clan's commander with Fujiko in tow. Out of respect the two remained three paces behind him at all times. The rest of the village bowed courteously one more time and got back to their daily lives.
Bishamon Takashi stood as a great beast of a man, almost half as wide as he was tall. His hair of the darkest black was shaggy and unkempt, matted like the thick beard that hung down to his belt. His figure was gaunt, his muscles fat, hairy and bulging with biceps resembling large coconuts.
The sleeveless crimson armour that had been tailor-made to suit his enormous size was battered and torn by the cuts of blades from years of fierce combat. Some of the dents had cut right through the armour and left scars upon his body that stretched right up to his face. The stitching of a slash that had nearly killed him curved up along his neck, and another decorated his left cheek in a straight line; apparently there was another in the shape of a cross hidden behind the beard too, but Kazuya had never seen it.
A jaw set wider than any Kazuya had ever seen framed his broad face, yet behind his frightening appearance there was a kind man with a firm hand, a man who loved his people fiercely.
Together the three of them made their way through the village, receiving bows from many who hadn't witnessed their initial arrival. Kazuya and Fujiko traded nervous looks as they allowed Bishamon to do most of the talking.
"Quite an entrance there Kazuya, I see you've learned a few new tricks since you've been away. You've gotten taller too."
Kazuya smiled; that last comment wasn't much coming from the man who stood close to seven feet tall. "In truth I hadn't tried the wall-walking technique before today, but I progressed quite a bit in my training so I gave a try."
"So you decided to dive right in the deep end and test it on one of the most dangerous descents known to man." Bishamon let out a laugh like thunder. "That's bravery if I've ever seen it Kazuya."
"The ninja would call it foolishness."
"Foolishness was them coming down here in the dead of night acting like they own the place asking everyone questions!" boomed the Taisho. "As if I know anything about clones and assassinations and Land of Fire business!"
Kazuya steeled himself before he replied. He knew this could go either way; Bishamon could curse him for his cowardice or see his point of view. "Fujiko told me all about that," he began. "We encountered the ninja you spoke of last night and managed to resolve the incident without bloodshed. They won't bother you anymore. I beg that you cease the patrols and stop the order to attack foreign ninja; my squad will be coming back here for me in a few days and I wouldn't want anything to happen to them."
"Hmm." The Taisho considered for a moment. Clearly the events of the other day had put him on edge and still angered him; stomping all over a samurai's pride was always a sure-fire way to get them in a mood. In spite of his instincts though, he resigned himself to Kazuya's judgement. "Perhaps I was a little hasty putting out that order. If you say there'll be no more trouble then I believe you. I'll send out the word to retreat within the hour."
Kazuya breathed a sigh of relief and shared a smile with Fujiko. "Thank you honoured Taisho."
"Quit it with the 'honoured' already, you make me feel like an old man," laughed Bishamon. "I see you found Fujiko. Is my daughter giving you a hard time already? What trouble is she getting you into this time?"
"Dad," moaned the girl.
"None sir." Kazuya covered for her without a moment's hesitation. "She was just picking flowers along the southern pass when I ran into her."
Fujiko gasped and mouthed a silent reply of 'thank you' as her father continued.
"She was on her way to some mischief no doubt," said the man.
"Dad-" Fujiko began a protest again with the feeling of embarrassment washing over her, though her complaint was cut off by a great belly laugh from the Taisho.
"I'm joking Fujiko," he said through a fit of raspy chuckles. "Run along now, Kazuya and I have to talk business."
Kazuya gulped as the moment he'd been dreading arrived: the moment when he told the Taisho exactly how much he'd earned and found out whether or not it was enough to fill the village's appetite. Sensing his apprehension Fujiko caught his eye with a glimpse of worry, though a smiling nod from Kazuya assured her that he'd catch up with her later, allowing her to leave as instructed down a path into the mist that forked away from them.
"I've never fought a battle harder than managing four daughters," Bishamon remarked as they passed the shrine. Burning incense drifted from every window and stung Kazuya's eyes, preventing him from laughing too hard at the Taisho's joke.
"I'm sure sons are equally difficult," replied the boy as the vile taste of smoke lavished his tongue.
"Probably, but who needs sons when I've got you? I've never met another samurai who can do that crazy eye trick of yours."
At this Kazuya's laugh was sincere; Bishamon never got tired of seeing the boy's spiral-eyed dojutsu. To him it was a work of art that was not only an incredible technique in battle, but also a nice parlour trick to use whenever he wanted to proudly show off his upcoming successor to the Taisho of other samurai villages.
"Anyway, as you can probably see we're only just managing over at this end. Tell it to me straight Kazuya, how much have you earned from these six months as a ninja? We need the money desperately or the village will be in ruin by this time next year," said the Taisho.
Breathing deeply, Kazuya made a quick recount of all the cash he'd amassed so far. Once he was sure the amount was correct he recited it, keeping as cool and calm as he possibly could. He'd completed fifteen D-Ranked missions and was in the process of a second C-Rank. Of course Shoryu's fall for him in the stream test had earned him the equivalent of a third C-Rank mission as well. For once in his life he was shaking, and not from the cold either.
"By the end of the week I'll have just under half a million ryo," he revealed at last.
Bishamon nodded in understanding, contemplating the amount as he thoughtfully hummed and twirled his enormous beard between two fingers. From just the look on his face Kazuya knew it hadn't been quite what he was hoping for, but at least he wasn't angry.
"You would've made more by this point if you went into commerce like my grandfather," said the Taisho at last.
Kazuya had been through this conversation before, and yet Bishamon never seemed to understand. "I know that, but I'll make more in the long run by staying as a ninja. The Chunin exams are at the end of the month – if I pass then I'll be assigned to a higher rank and allowed to take on more dangerous missions. Every assignment I complete as a Chunin should land me between thirty and two hundred thousand ryo. With that kind of money I'll be able to keep us afloat indefinitely."
"And if you fail?"
"If I fail. . ." Kazuya breathed a long sigh. "I'd have to wait another six months to retake it. Chunin exams are only hosted twice a year."
Bishamon stopped in his tracks and turned to the boy. His look was hard to meet, but Kazuya knew that respect and trust would come if he held his gaze. He knew how much of a difficult situation this was; he only asked that the Taisho placed a little faith in him.
"Alright Kazuya," said Bishamon, proposing a compromise. "I'll give you until the end of the month then. I hate to be harsh but the village just can't afford another six months. If you fail those exams I'll have no choice but to put you in freelance trading management."
The boy samurai nodded right away; in truth he'd expected this turn of events. This Chunin exam would be all or nothing for him then. The entire future of his clan rode upon his ability to pass a test that should've been beyond his years. Even so, his confidence was strong. "I won't fail sir. When I pass, come next year we won't just be surviving, we'll be prospering again."
"I hope so Kazuya. That'll be all for now; if you'll have excuse me I have a council to coerce, we'll talk more later okay?" said Bishamon. He turned on the spot and headed back in the general direction of the shrine, and Kazuya watched him disappear back into the village's thick cloud of mist before he managed to gather his courage and speak up again.
"Sir!" He called into the fog.
Through the wispy white mist Kazuya saw the vague outline of the Taisho's face reappear. "What is it?" he asked.
"I wondered if you might know where to find Jun. I need to ask her something."
"Your aunt?" Bishamon looked confused. "She'll be ploughing in the fields I expect – what do you need to talk to her about?"
Kazuya had his mind made up already. Shoryu had summoned up the courage to ask his only close relative about his family, now it was his turn to do the same - he needed answers about the dojutsu whether his aunt wanted to give it them or not.
". . . My father," said Kazuya.
.
Author's Notes: :O DUN DUN DUNNN!
Hello again! So there's the Village Hidden in the Glacier, cool huh? It's kind of like a traditional samurai village, only it's surrounded by cliffs of ice and it's almost impossible to get to unless you're a samurai or a ninja.
I was kinda going for a different side to Kazuya today, one that's only been hinted at through Shoryu's short-lived bond with him. He's still cold and a little distant but he's alright once he lightens up, and he's got a nice relationship with Fujiko. I actually like the idea of them getting along well because I hate romantic clichés – seriously, how many "they're in an arranged marriage but they don't like each other" plots have we seen in fiction already? I've never liked them to begin with, and then I had to read Brick Lane last year for my course which made me hate them even more. Dullest book ever. I also have big plans for Kazuya and Fujiko in Volume Two, and them hating each other's guts wouldn't really make it any good. I also hate love triangles, but that's another story.
Also I realised upon rereading that some of Shoryu's lines might make him seem like a bit of a misogynist. He's not really – at this point he's actually head over heels for Ayako. He's really just being blunt about what most teenage guys think and exaggerating it on purpose to wind up Kazuya. Plus he's a shonen fiction hero; none of them are perfect are they? At least he's honest.
Lastly there were a few more essential names dropped in this chapter. Fujiko is a really old and traditional name that means 'Child of the Wisteria' and Bishamon is another ancient name – it's the Japanese God of War. What better person to give it to than a grizzled old veteran samurai?
Back to the village next chapter before Chunin exams begin in chapters 17 onwards! The exams will be the climax of Volume One and will run alongside another massive event that leads us into the second volume (Hint: Kage summit conference :D)