Chapter Seven
I am Hyūga in name only.
My father came from that that accursed bloodline but decided to keep his children away from the tumultuous life of infighting and backstabbing that plagued the clan in those barbaric days before the creation of the Hidden Villages. He eloped with my mother, a merchant's daughter from a foreign land, to till the land in order to provide my brother and I a chance to discover a life that he never had the chance to enjoy. We struggled in those days with our fates tied directly to the success of the crops, but none of us complained. My parents, even in the worst of times, managed to smile and taught us to look to the stars for hope. Things changed when Mother passed away from the flu during the winter of my tenth year.
Not a soul in the hamlet where we lived managed to keep grief from their hearts. Mother's kindness touched everyone's life, and things seemed dimmer after her passing. Spring arrived without the usual rain while summer came with cruel heat that burnt what little sprouted. Harvest, normally celebrated with a festival and days of merriment, came with the rumblings of empty stomachs and grumblings about the approaching winter. Taxmen from the Daimyo, under pressure to gather needed supplies for the military, took what meager crops remained with hollowed promises of aid that never came. As is common in difficult times, people turned to religion for answers and prayed for divine intervention from Amaterasu. Even Father, burdened by sorrow and seeing his children go to bed hungry, turned to faith to heal his broken spirit despite pervious dismissals of any formal doctrine or creed.
Amaterasu answered our pleas the worst winter in the Land of Fire's history. Bitter temperatures killed the livestock. Blizzards blocked the roads, preventing caravans ladened with grain from reaching the hamlet and doomed entire families to starvation. The local priest, a godly man devoted to the Eternal Mother, tried to reassure us that Amaterasu had not abandoned us. He encouraged us to sing the holy hymns and recite daily prayers with extra devotion, claiming that the Sun Goddess would bring a spring of rebirth for everyone. As the days grew shorter and colder, hope dwindled, and faith withered. That is when he came.
The man, a foreigner dressed in unusual garbs of black silk, came to town upon a wagon drawn by a white horse. He brought us gifts of bread and dried meat in quantities that ensured no one went hungry. When asked about his identity, he claimed to be a servant of the Crimson Dreamer that had been commanded to bring aid to the suffering souls of our hamlet. People flocked to him in hopes of getting more food and stayed to listen to his sermons about the god that had heard their prayers. He said that the Crimson Dreamer, whom slept deep within the Earth since days unknowable, would never let them go hungry again.
Our priest, concerned at the sudden competitor for our souls, launched a series of attacks against the outsider with claims that the man brought damnation and pleaded with us to reject the food offered by him. Most, at first, listened to the priest and maintained trust in Amaterasu, but even the most devout struggled to keep faith as winter dragged on without relief. I remember the day Father stopped taking us to the temple in favor of listening to man who brought us salvation. By the time spring arrived, the priest stood alone in his devotion. I do not know what happened to him, but one morning, the hamlet awoke to find that the temple had been given over to the Crimson Dreamer. The stranger, still nameless to us, declared himself 'The Prophet' to which all began to call him.
The Prophet taught us the path of the Crimson Dreamer, encouraging us to explore our dreams for hidden meanings sent by the slumbering god. He spoke of honoring the deity through hard-work and duty to one's community, values that resonated with my father and caused my family to become active within the new way. To those that earned his trust, the Prophet gave special seeds with promises that they would grow crops far stronger and faster than anything we had seen. Those that had yet to fully embrace the Crimson Dreamer became devoted converts when they saw my father ride into town with heavy carts full of vegetables and fruit spawned from the seeds provided by the Prophet. By the time of the following autumn, farmers from across the countryside flocked to our temple to receive the blessings of the Crimson Dreamers. The local authorities turned a blind eye to the new religion due to the yields provided. For the first time since my mother's death, hope returned to our world.
Daisuke, my brother, never became devout. He prayed with us every evening, attended the weekly services of the Prophet, and volunteered in the community kitchen to appease Father but refused to give himself over completely to the teachings of the Crimson Dreamer. At first, Father did not care so long as he kept up proper appearances. Things turned sour when my brother, upon turning eighteen, decided to leave the farm and hamlet in favor of joining the Merchant's Guild in the capital. He promised to stay for the winter to ensure that the animals were properly taken care of, but Father declared him an apostate and refused to speak with him for the few remaining weeks our family was together. I, torn between my piety and love of my brother, tried to appease both brother and Father but ended up alone.
One night, three days before Daisuke was to depart, he woke me up dressed in his traveling outfit and ordered me to gather my things. The panic in his voice matched the insanity burning in his eyes, yet my heart followed his orders without complaint. I asked him if we should notify Father of our departure but received no answer beyond a command that I keep silent. We left the farm through the fields instead of taking the path down to the main road with brother explaining that there is a caravan camped across the river that would take us directly to the capital. Our progress slowed once we entered the forest due to Daisuke's insistence that we light no lanterns, claiming that it would attract unwanted attention.
The moon had reached its zenith by the time we reached the crag that marked the halfway point. Brother's paranoia grew worse as time passed with him often staring into the darkness like he was searching for something. Paranoia twisted into anger as I struggled to keep up with his pace. The words he hurled at me, so uncharacteristically cruel, slowed my steps down until I stopped completely with tears filling my vision.
"Why are you being so mean?"
He turned upon me with an enraged look on his face and raised his fist as if to strike me. My flinch caused him to recoil, diminishing his flaming rage into an ash of desperation. "Hanae, you need to keep going. We do not have much time before they notice we're gone."
"They? What did you do?" I struggled to speak as a series of sobs shook me. "Are you in trouble with the law?"
Daisuke took a deep breath to calm down. "No. Something bad has happened, and I need to make sure that you're safe."
"What about Father? He is probably worried sick!"
"No." He shook his head as a brief fit of madness returned. "Father is poisoned! He is sick and twisted."
I tilted my head at the words, unable to understand the ramblings. "Sick? We need to tell the Prophet right away. He can help Father!"
The mention of the Prophet froze Daisuke as madness turned into a terror long-thought extinct in humanity. He stumbled a few steps backwards as his breathing became labored. My cries echoed through the trees as my brother tried to regain a semblance of rationality.
A high-pitched wail froze both of us in place. Daisuke's eyes widened in panic as logical thought returned. "He has found us!" He stared at me for a long moment with a gaze full of horror, love, and determination. His hands reached for the bag slung over his shoulder and thrusted it into my arms. "I need you to run."
"Brother?"
"Run and do not stop until you reach the river. No matter what happens, never stop running."
Another wail awoke fear within me, yet the love that shined on my brother's face gave me the courage to run. I did not flinch as the thorn brushes lashed my skin nor slowed when the uneven terrain sent me stumbling to the ground. I did not stop as my brother's screams echoed into the night…
Silence reigned in the Hokage Office as Hanae paused to take a sip of coffee.
Naruto closed his eyes and used the pause to collect his thoughts. The battle with Shikamaru, or rather what Shikamaru had become, still seemed too unreal to fully grasp. He suspected that the large amount of sake mixed into his coffee dulled his emotions enough to keep him focused on the conversation at hand. There would be a time later to grieve the loss of his friend.
"What happened to your brother?" Tenten, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, looking exhausted. It was approaching three in the morning, and the poor woman had yet to go to bed.
"I never saw him again, though I suspect that his fate was gruesome." Hanae placed her cup onto the desk. "By dawn, I crossed the river and was found by members of the caravan out searching for my brother. They took me to the capital for an audience with the Fire Daimyo himself. It turns out that Daisuke had been working with the Merchant Guild for longer than I had thought and wrote a detailed account on the Prophet's activities that he had hoped to deliver directly to the Lord of the Land of Fire. I completed my brother's mission, learning that the Prophet and his cult were doing human sacrifices to the Crimson Dreamer. According to my brother's journal, Father had planned to offer me up in the following spring in hopes of becoming the Prophet's student. More importantly for the Daiymo, there was talks of a planned uprising that was backed by important figures within the military. For my service to the Land of Fire, the Daimyo paid for my formal education and ordered that I be adopted into the main house of the Hyūga, who gladly accepted me in to appease their lord."
"And The Prophet? Whatever happened to him?"
"The details of the matter were covered up with me only learning about what really happened from Hashirama years later. According to him, the Fire Daimyo called upon the Senju and Uchiha Clans to aid the military in putting down the Prophet and the Cult of the Crimson Dreamer that had gripped many of the peasants in the northern provinces. The two clans, for the first time in their history, managed to work together in quelling the rebellion and committing the largest genocide in the nation's history. Butsuma, his father, was forced to put entire towns to the sword to destroy the cult. It is known that Tajima Uchiha led the charge against the Prophet directly, slaying the crazed leader and plundering the temple of gathered relics."
Tenten rolled her eyes. "Of course, he did. Leave it up to the Uchiha to take a bunch of evil shit."
"Indeed. The incident, known as the Crimson Uprising in the few records that mention it, played a critical role in the future establishment of Konoha and other events. The Daimyo and his successors began to favor ninja as the main military might instead of government-established armies. When Hashirama wanted to build the first hidden village, he used his clan's service to convince the Daimyo to give him the needed land and resources." Hanae frowned deeply and finished the rest of her coffee. "In my opinion, I believe that the Uchiha's downfall also began during the rebellion. I suspect that the artifacts, most likely tainted, worsened their already dark mindset."
Naruto poured the last of the sake into his empty mug. The similarities between the Cult of the Crimson Dreamer and the Church of the Red Goddess were obvious. "So, you joined the Hyūga and got some learning. That leaves out a pretty big gap between then and now."
"And your attempted murder of Mito Uzumaki." Tenten cracked her neck and yawned. "No offense, lady, but your story seems a little too fantastical. I have never heard of this 'Crimson Uprising' in any book. Even if it was covered up, wouldn't it have been leaked or something? I am going to need some hard evidence to believe that you're actually what…over a hundred years old?"
"Fair enough." Hanae poured another cup of coffee and reached into her pocket for a pack of cigarettes. "As you can imagine, the trauma of losing my brother and discovering what my father was planning left me in a bad state. I functioned but never healed. The Merchant Guild accepted me as an apprentice upon the completion of my education. In a few years, I managed to become one of the wealthiest women on the entire continent and used my influence to aid the Hyūga. However, the Crimson Dreamer and the cult haunted me. I started to investigate similar groups around the Elemental Nations and started to notice a trend. Each group, while different on the surface, contained certain themes and rituals that matched one another. For example, the Land of Wind has a monastery in the middle of the desert that worships 'The Sleeping Mother', a goddess that they speak with people in their dreams. They perform ceremonies that are designed to summon their goddess from her tomb under the earth. Meanwhile, in Kiri currently, there is a group of fishermen who believe that there is a new god sleeping in the ocean awaiting the coming of a chosen one to complete humanity's evolution."
Naruto's eyes narrowed as the final pieces of the puzzles fell into place. "And the Church of the Red Goddess believes that new god is coming soon to usher in a new age." Hanae smiled and nodded her head.
"Wait." Tenten jumped from the couch to point at the window in the cathedral's general direction. "Are you trying to tell me that this Crimson Dreamer cult and the Red Goddess cult are the same damn thing?"
Hanae shook her head. "No, but that is what I thought at first. I believed that the Prophet stole the idea of his deity from some pre-existing group. However, upon further research, I discovered religious groups spanning the globe that shared these beliefs. Digging deep revealed that these groups were not separate religions but a single cult spread out across the world. Things changed to fit the local culture, but the underlying dogma is the same. In my studies, I have found over two hundred groups with matching ideology from across human history, dating back to the civilizations that existed far before the Sage of Six Paths. They'll call the god different things but are referring to the same being. Ishtar, the Crimson Dreamer, the Red Goddess, Yeshua, Echidna, Astarte, Shubb-Niggurath, the King in Yellow, the Crawling Chaos…"
The woman paused and stared into Naruto's eyes with an unflinching harshness.
"Kurama."
And, as some have guessed, the big reveal is here. This was an odd chapter to write given that it is exposition heavy, so I decided to keep it on the short end. Next chapter will be a bit more dramatic. Won't spoil much, but this is the calm before the storm.
She of the Stars slumbers in death,
Her dreams alone gives us breath.
Do not weep, last child of Earth,
Awakening, she gives birth.