Turning Swallow

Summary:

OR, One morning, four-year-old Sasaki Kojiro remembers a life not yet lived, and decides to do something about it. History changes. SI!Sasaki Kojiro. Expect general lightheartedness, but dark topics when the time comes.

CH. 30 START

From the very moment that the Curse lying dormant in her blood had awoken, Chiyome's life had never been her own. Private thought, a person's most precious and holy sanctum, wasn't something that Chiyome had the luxury of indulging in, for in between her own thoughts, her mind was filled with the syllabant whispers of the Yamata-no-Orochi's eightfold voice. Sometimes, the voices were loud and discordant, jarring in their intensity, and sometimes, they were so soft that Chiyome could mistake them for her own inner voice. Every second of every minute, hour, day, week, month, and year was painted with those awful voices. It was terrible, but Chiyome bore with it, because if she didn't, someone else would have to. Her suffering wasn't a fate that she would wish on even her worst enemy, much less a relative, no matter how distant. The Curse slumbered in all descendants of the Koga Clan's founder, named Koga Saburo. The man's blood had been cursed after Saburo had trespassed into Mount Ibuki, which served both as the Dragon God's sacred mountain, as well as its home, before smashing up a nest of snakes. For this act, Yamata-no-Orochi had declared that just like Koga Saburo had smashed the nest of snakes, so too would Orochi smash Saburo's own offspring. Or, at least, that was the story of how the Curse had come to be. The tale had been passed down through the Koga Clan for the last five hundred years but explained very little of importance. Why had Koga Saburo been on the mountain in the first place? Why had he smashed the snake nest, knowing full well where he was?

Regardless of his reasons, his descendants were now suffering. For the last five hundred years, the Curse had manifested itself over and over, once per generation in a single host. Not just any type of host, but in the most talented person of any said generation, to make sure that the Koga Clan's suffering was made that much worse. It'd begun the generation after Koga Saburo's the moment that the man died, bringing untold agony to his children. The Curse did two things. Firstly, it gave the host immense and inhuman strength. This gift wasn't altruistic, however, for this blessing of might was accompanied by unbearable agony and unfathomable pain. Not just once either. The pain remained constant, enough to drive most hosts to insanity after minutes. The handful who remained sane enough to talk and write had penned warnings for the later generations. The very few who'd lived past the first day had written that the pain was like constantly being submerged in burning oil, all while being stabbed, over and over. The longest-lived had been a man two hundred years ago, who had lived all of five years, before committing suicide. The person who the curse traveled to next didn't do nearly as well, going insane immediately, devastating his clan, and killing them nearly to the last man. The survivors of the massacre had sought refuge from another clan and eventually, that miserable host was slain. The curse took hold once a generation, maybe every twenty or thirty years. Long ago, the Koga Clans had been more numerous than merely fifty-three. When Kago Saburo had died, there had been over eighty clans, but over the centuries, that number had been whittled down significantly. The Koga Clans had never feared an outside enemy, but rather, feared one another; they feared the dormant Curse that infected each and every one of them.

Yamata-no-Orochi didn't intend to simply wipe out the Koga Clans. What it wanted to do was torture them, to remind them that no matter how numerous they were, or how strong, they could not defend against a son or brother gone mad. That they were still beholden to it, even after half an eternity. Chiyome just so happened to be the unfortunate person that Orochi took as a host in her generation. She could confidently say that all the records had been wrong. It did not feel like you were being burnt in a pot of hot oil, it felt like you were being boiled alive from the inside as if your very blood was corrosive and anathema to your veins. It did not feel like swords stabbing into the body, but rather as if her very being was being defiled and violated and beaten by the vengeful god named Orochi. The Curse had manifested in Chiyome when she'd been a tender fifteen years of age. Back then, she'd just finished the final step of her ninja training and was graduating, when Orochi made its choice. The pain felt almost unreal, and if she tried, Chiyome could pretend that it was someone else screaming, rather than her. She watched in horror as a scarlet pattern carved itself upon her skin. It spread, twisting and writhing, to the rest of her body, until her legs, arms, torso and neck, had all been covered. Then, the first scale appeared, following the path that the scarlet pattern had laid out. The scales crawled up her arm, down her spine, along her thighs, and wrapped around her neck, a cruel reminder that no matter what, she was bound to the Dragon God.

The moment that the scales had fully formed, she'd heard Orochi's voice for the first time.

The God introduced itself with a mocking chuckle, "Yesss~! You'll do just fine. What vibrant affection for this accursed clan of yours. How long will you last, I wonder, before you go mad like the rest? That will be a sight to see."

The God's voice faded away, but the whispers began, and the next time she found herself aware, she was in the middle of her village. Yet, something was wrong. The ground around her was dead and drained of life, where Chiyome was certain there'd been trees before, and the dirt directly beneath her was blackened. It wasn't dirt, but black ash, she realized. The people of the village were here too, but where there'd been smiles and jokes during her graduation ceremony, now, there was only caution and fear. Her clan surrounded her, their weapons drawn, waiting to see if she'd been driven insane. With a desperate gasp, Chiyome clambered to her feet, and turned around, dumbfounded. The village had been ravaged. Wherever she turned, her friends and family and neighbors shrunk back, as if she'd kill them for daring to look at her. Her heart was aching. All the while, her blood burned and her soul ached. A man's voice called out to her, and Chiyome grasped it like a lifeline. This was her father's voice, deep and confident, despite the circumstances.

"Chiyome," he called, "have you regained yourself?"

She nodded shakily and told him, "Yes. I have. Is…everyone alright?"

"There were no casualties. You seem to be holding yourself together admirably." interjected her grandfather, a stoic sort of man.

Chiyome gave her grandfather a weak smile and nodded, despite the pain that she was drowning in. Her every muscle felt as though it'd been torn, and her bare feet sent pulses of pain to her brain, as though her skin had been scrubbed raw.

"It hurts," Chiyome began, but it wasn't her who finished the sentence, "but I'll be fine."

Her father walked towards her in disbelief, and her mother joined him, moving slowly, step by step. He moved as if in awe like Chiyome would disappear the moment he blinked, unaware that his daughter was no longer in control of her own body. Chiyome wanted to cry. Tears poured down her face, but her parents interpreted that as tears of joy or relief, not emotional agony. Her body nodded, without Chiyome's own input, and as her father neared to place a hand on her shoulder, the Orochi began to mock her.

It taunted her, "You are nothing, little girl. You may yet be sane, but can you stay that way after killing your father with your very own hands? Your mother? Your grandfather? Your clan? Now. Kill him."

Chiyome's body drew back, and her arm pulled backward. Chiyome felt Orochi's thoughts and felt its intent to plunge Chiyome's hand through her father's chest. Somehow, from somewhere deep within, a newfound source of willpower emerged. Her hand shot forward, and for a moment, she caught a flash of betrayal spin through her father's eyes, before the man closed his eyes to accept his death. Her hand came to a trembling halt over her father's heart, and she forced her clawed hands to unclench and relax. She took a step back to make distance, the space between her father and her abruptly suffocating.

"Father," she said, "I need you to come here."

The Dragon God reasserted itself, and her right eye began to burn. The scales on her body began to heat up until lines of fire were scorching Chiyome's flesh. Her body reclaimed the ground that Chiyome had given, and walked forward, step by step. The one in control of her body wasn't Chiyome, but that wrathful deity, intent on causing pain. The being moving her body wasn't her, but try as she might, she couldn't do anything. Step by step, claiming the ground that her father had begun to give. She wanted to scream, but her mouth refused to move. The tears came back, flowing faster than ever.

Her grandfather addressed her body and said, "You are not Chiyome. You…are Orochi?"

A manic grin spread across her face, and her body began to laugh.

"So what, if I am? What can you do, little man?" the serpent cajoled her grandfather, "Could you bear to hurt your granddaughter? She's still screaming, you know, deep inside."

Her grandfather hesitated at the words, and in the next moment, her body was upon him. Something broke within her, and with a triumphant cry, Chiyome once again reclaimed her body. The Dragon God began to encroach again, and rather than struggle, she pulled a knife from her waist, then plunged it deep within her right arm. The tendons and muscles of her upper arms were sliced clean through, and the limb went limp. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt for, unlike the Curse, this pain was cold, like the steel embedded within her flesh. It soothed her. Yet, yet! The wound began to seal around the kunai, and Chiyome watched in horror as it began to dissolve. Warped and deformed metal was pushed from her self-inflicted wound, and she could feel her limb slowly come back to life, muscle knitting itself back together, tendons restringing themselves. The kunai dropped to the ground, the blade gone, half-melted. The skin reformed, but rather than smooth flesh, scales covered the stab wound. The Curse was not just a spell, Chiyome realized mutely. It was a divine poison, able to cause agony, grant strength, and allow possession, all at once. The Orochi did not return so quickly this time, and distantly, Chiyome recalled that when the kunai had stabbed into her, the Orochi had hissed in pain as well. She made a decision, and with a confident audacity that she didn't feel, she began to speak.

"I will go into the mountains to meditate. Send a team of archers to watch over me," she asked, "so if I lose control, the clan can end my life."

Her grandfather spoke softly, saying, "If that is your wish. Food will be left near you. A perimeter will be established. Should you leave it…"

The warning was taken without insult. It was for the best. Back straight, she left her village, the only home that she'd ever known, and trekked into the densely forested mountains. Despite the former abundance of game and predators, she saw neither, likely due to whatever the animals could sense of the Dragon God. Halfway up the mountain, Chiyome found a small clearing, and sat down in the center, using her foot to draw a loose circle on the ground around her. If she ever began to rampage, the team of archers could send a man away to warn the rest of the village. It'd take a few hours to get down the mountain, and hopefully, by then, all of her clan would have escaped. Chiyome didn't know how long she'd been sitting in that circle. Her eyes were closed, her legs were crossed, and her hands were held in a prayer position. Behind her eyes, Orochi raged, each passing minute generating a new and unique pain. It grew, it shrunk, and sometimes, vanished altogether, but always, always, came back. The Dragon God never ceased its whispering. Eight voices. Her mother, her father, her grandfather, her own, and the voices of the village, told her that her pain would be over if she just gave up. Chiyome never broke. Through rain or snow, cold or heat, and hunger or exhaustion, Chiyome sat there, breaths slow and measured. No matter how much her stomach cried for food, no matter how tired she was, no matter how much agony she felt, she sat there.

Then, she discovered that she was able to muzzle the voice of Orochi. Eight voices became seven, became six, became five, became four and became three, and two until finally, only one voice of Orochi remained. Her own voice mocked her.

"Do you truly think that this can stop me?" the Dragon God inquired, "One day, you'll forget my voice, and on that day, I'll gain control for good. This insult will be repaid a thousand fold. Your clan will be slain, as they should have been centuries ago. There will be no more games."

Then, she'd silenced the last voice. The presence of Orochi remained present, in the back of her mind, but she couldn't hear it anymore. A thrill shot through her, but that joy was destroyed when a pain unlike any other pierced her soul. IthurtIthurtIthurtIthurtIthurtIthurtIthurtIthurtIthurt. Chiyome screamed, stumbling out of the circle and collapsing to the ground. Every muscle pulled, every tendon tore, every nerve was severed. Her body was mutilated from within, over and over, each time regenerating within minutes. The pain decreased. No, that was wrong. The pain remained the same. Chiyome had just become numb to it. She stood on breaking legs, breathed through a crushed throat, and walked back down the mountain. No archers. How long had it been? Days? Months? Years? Decades?

When she stepped into the village, she recognized not a single soul. There were new faces here, children playing happily, teenagers that seemed familiar yet foreign, old men and women that looked at her with knowing eyes. The village hadn't changed, but it felt as though a hundred years had passed. People she almost knew, but not quite. She walked home, knocked on that door, how strange it was, and waited. A minute passed, and an old man walked to the door. Her grandfather? No. This man had different eyes, a sharper nose.

He spoke in a ragged, disbelieving voice, and asked, "Is that you, Chiyome?"

At once, Chiyome knew it was her father. The man looked thirty years older, once black hair now a grayish-white, and those once strong eyes seemed blurry now. He called out, and more people came out of the house. Her mother, once youthful, had aged. The woman's back was bent with the weight of experience and her hands shook. Her sister, once a decade younger than her, now looked twice her age. How long had it been? Twenty years? Thirty?

"How long…?" she asked, despair flooding her heart.

Her mother and father didn't answer, overcome with emotion, and her sister was the one who spoke, "Two and a half decades, Chiyome. Welcome back."

That was all that needed to be said. Her little sister, a fully grown woman, embraced her, and her parents followed. Chiyome felt herself cry too, this time, of her own violation. In the back of her mind, Orochi raged, but he'd never gain control of her again. Her arms came up, woefully short for a woman of forty years. She'd not aged a single day. Her height had not shifted, and she'd not lost weight, much less gained it. Chiyome's body was the one she'd stepped into the mountains with, so long ago. Her family filled her in. her grandfather had seventeen years ago, and her father was now Clan Head. The reason that there'd been no archers was because three years after she'd taken up refuge in the mountains, the Clan had sent for a veritable battalion of priests and exorcists. They'd sealed away the area so that any unholy energies would be prevented from passing out, after the efforts of the exorcists had proved vain and useless. One exorcist had pushed himself so hard that he'd gone blind, after receiving backlash from Orochi's power. While Chiyome had been in the mountains, the world had moved on. Before he died, her grandfather had declared the mountain Chiyome'd been on to be forbidden. After he'd died, her father had continued the tradition; the Clan only knew she was still alive since Orochi had never manifested again.

Life moved on, and over time, Chiyome rejoined the village, but she was always the odd one out. No one liked the host of Orochi near them, no matter how tame Chiyome seemed. No one liked that Chiyome could easily move objects that a team of men three times her size couldn't even budge with ease. No one liked the reminder that they were getting older when they realized that Chiyome hadn't aged a day. But, peace was kept. At least until the battles of the Sengoku reached even the isolated Koga Clans.

A/N:

This took so long to write. The original of this was actually double the length, and I wanted to upload it all at once, hence the delay, but that didn't work out. Sorry about that. This is Part 1 of 2, concerning Chiyome. This is the last daily chapter, officially, but Chapter 31, which is Chiyome Part 2 will come out tomorrow. After that, you guys will have to wait for next week. This month has been a blast, one hell of a journey, and I just want to thank a couple of people for sticking with me so far: evilstatistic19, Hunter of Entities, , GladiumDamocles, dickmoney, AssassineCon, Amatsumi, saxmepapi, and Cookiesndip. Y'all have commented so often, and they've been a joy to read. Thanks for that. I'm certain that there's a couple more of you, but the people listed above are the ones that I've noticed most. Especially Hunter of Entities, and evilstatistic19. I'm fairly sure that you three have made up at least 50% of all reviews. If any of you, not just the three, have any idea you want to see, that I can reasonably fit in, I'll do my best to. Just shoot me a DM.

TL:DR- Daily uploads over, but extra chapter tomorrow. After that chapter, uploads will be twice a week, though I'm not sure about what days. Two chapters for sure though. Wanted to make a big 6k word upload but it took too long, hence extra chapter tmmr. Thanks everyone.

Edited Chapter 30 on 12/31/2022 for Spacing and Minor Spelling Errors.