Kohana
"In a time draped in the shroud of memory, in a village kissed by the embrace of mountains, where the hum of markets accompanied children's laughter, there was a maiden named Kohana.
Everyone who saw Kohana could sense something different about her, like a secret melody playing just out of hearing.
She appeared as a lonely figure, perhaps missing something intangible, a secret she herself was yet to unveil.
She did not laugh easily, nor did she dance with the winds as other children did. Some whispered it was because she was blessed by the sun. Some that she was born under strange stars. Some that she was cursed. There was one thing they agreed upon, however.
To see her smile was to see the morning's first light.
On a fateful day, Kohana's steps led her to a long-forgotten shrine, hidden beneath the embrace of the old cedar trees.
Its moss-covered torii gate was seemingly mourning for days of reverence long gone. At the heart of the shrine, stones beckoned her closer, promising to alleviate her solitude. Drawn to the whispers, Kohana responded.
"May I have the honor of your touch?"
And from the depth far beyond, a light, warm yet distant, graced her hand. It felt like the first warmth of spring after a long winter.
"And might I be gifted with your embrace?" Kohana asked, her voice trembling.
As ephemeral as a breeze, Kohana was embraced. She felt the gentle touch, the warmth of sunlight shrouding her, a sensation so fleeting yet eternal.
She found what she had been seeking, all along.
And she found she yearned for more.
With her heart racing, she murmured. "Your name, that I might forever be embraced by you."
A voice, like the rustling of leaves, shared the sacred name.
The elders, who were said to hold wisdom from ages past, had told her of the sanctity that came with one such thing.
Though Kohana was aware of the perils of communing with spirits, her longing had overshadowed her caution.
And so Kohana promised herself she would not call it in vain.
Kohana left the sacred place, and her soul felt lighter than ever before. She knew in her heart she would never truly be alone.
As the seasons turned their pages, Kohana grew, like the delicate cherry blossoms that unfurl in the soft embrace of spring.
And Kohana learned to laugh, marking the end of her spring. She decided she would never feel this loneliness again.
Once reserved and silent, Kohana became like the summer: radiant, and teeming with life. Her laughter echoed like the melodic trills of birds, and her steps matched the rhythm of the flowing streams.
And Kohana grew attached to the delights her beauty brought her. She was not lonely anymore.
With the passage of time, the fiery colors of autumn began to trace patterns on her once-rosy cheeks. The gold and scarlet hues of the trees reflected in her gaze. Her beauty, once as constant as the noonday sun, now waxed and waned like the moon.
And Kohana became fearful, of the pallor that only she could see in the mirror. She thought of loneliness once more.
As winter's cold fingers began to touch the village, Kohana felt its frost seeping into her bones. The once-vibrant maiden now moved with the deliberate slowness of the snow-covered branches.
And it was during one of these cold, still nights, feeling the impending grasp of winter on her very soul, that Kohana found herself remembering it all.
Compelled, Kohana uttered the sacred name.
And Kohana felt the embrace of the sun once more. The loneliness faded away, as the snow did.
As days turned to nights and nights back to days, the village awoke to an unnatural light.
The sun's rays grew stronger, nights shortened, and soon, an oppressive warmth enveloped the village. Birds ceased their morning songs, children played no more, and the life-giving rivers began to dry.
The balance was fractured. Whispers turned to accusations when the village elders saw Kohana's newfound radiance.
And then, the true drought.
And so it was that Kohana was sentenced to burn, in the hopes of appeasing the sun.
Bound to the very shrine where she had first heard the sun's name, Kohana faced her end.
Perhaps Kohana realized her error then, as the flames grew. That holding a Name, one so powerful, was not a gift but a grave responsibility.
Or perhaps she did not. And she was left with the memory of a touch, the ghost of an embrace, and the weight of a name half-held. Of the loneliness she would never feel again.
And perhaps that is why this mountainous land became a desert. And perhaps that is why people grew wary of Names. Kohana burned, mirroring the intensity of the sun she so desperately sought.
And so, as often happens, the tale of Kohana, the girl who called the sun, became a warning.
Perhaps it is so."
Uzumaki Yoisen — Two Tales: Kohana
WHEN WORDS FAIL
"That… can't be good, right…?" Gama asked, disbelief evident in his voice.
Through one of the strange constructs floating down there, the people in the control room could see the events unfolding down on Earth.
Orochimaru's typically enigmatic gaze was glued to the visuals playing out. The swirling chaos on Earth below was a reflection of Gama's fears.
This was an impossible battle, even for that man.
There was a momentary stillness, a slight hesitation in Orochimaru's posture. It was so subtle that one might've missed it, but to Gama, who had spent too much time deciphering a similar man and his alternate-self's daughter's nuances, it felt like a deafening alarm.
No answer came.
"Orochimaru." Gama began, searching for words. "I've never known you to be perturbed by… anything. What does this mean?"
Orochimaru responded with a measured calm. "It means that the kami's might has surpassed even our worst assumptions."
Gama stayed quiet for a little while.
"…There is still a chance." He finally said.
Orochimaru stared at him, the way one would stare at a peculiar animal. "Do tell your thoughts, then."
"The Jūbi." Gama said quietly. "I mean the Jūbi. They have its power, don't they…?"
"That would be true." Orochimaru mused. "The only problem being that these two were already fighting at full power."
Gama stared at him.
"…What?"
"I'm saying they both already brought the Jūbi's power out. Since the very beginning. And so did we, with the orbital strikes."
Gama found no words.
"No." Orochimaru said, shaking his head. "If they are to rely upon something, it will have to be something else."
Uzumaki Naruto sat.
In the shinobi world — and the world at large, apparently —, there were plenty of problems that could be solved by throwing a great, or a greater, force at them.
This was not one of them — or perhaps he was simply on the wrong side of the equation.
"Make your offer." He said, voice tinged with restrained rage.
His body was as tense as a coiled spring, and ready to blur away at the slightest hint of an attack.
"How uncouth." Agehachō-Yosei chided. A note of condescending amusement crept into its tone, as though he were savoring his disquiet.
Naruto's gaze remained unwavering, fixated on Yoisen, who met his gaze with a sorrowful expression — why was she sorry…? He had hesitated for too long.
A tumultuous whirlwind of thoughts raged in Naruto's mind, as he calculated every potential move in this deadly game. He was going through the motions, it felt, and there was a growing pit of ice in him. Yoisen… was gathering chakra.
Agehachō-Yosei leaned forward. "Do you recall? How tirelessly you avoided my summons? Isn't this a fitting climax to our dance?"
The weight felt crushing. No matter how he saw it, Naruto knew he would lose something.
His task as man was to save the people he cared about.
His task as friend was to save Yoisen.
His task as father was to save Yūshirō.
His task as Emperor was to save everyone.
…
"Behold." Agehachō-Yosei said. "The forthcoming epoch."
Visions enveloped Naruto, a sensory overload, and reality blurred in front of his eyes. Instinctively, he knew it was not actually happening, no more than Inari's illusions had been real.
Light spun like a thousand gliding butterflies, and his consciousness perceived it that way, as unreal as it was.
They formed soil, then grass, then trees around him.
He could feel the solid ground under his feet, the smell of the sea air into the distance, and see sand in the distance.
The sun was kissing the horizon, igniting the sky with colors only nature could concoct - hues of crimson, gold, and purple streaking across the heavens as it bade the world goodnight.
Below, the ocean's heartbeat echoed through the calm beach, where white sands met the azure waters in a delicate dance.
It looked all too much like Umi.
Palm trees swayed gently in the evening breeze, their shadows stretching lazily across the shore. Their leaves whispered hushed secrets: he understood it at once.
The world was at peace, teetering on the edge between day and night, caught in a moment of ethereal tranquility.
As he approached the shore, he recognized a few familiar figures bustling around. His heart pounded in his chest as he drew closer, the faces becoming clear.
They were his people, the inhabitants of his city, bustling about in a daily rhythm that was achingly familiar yet strangely off.
They moved with a singular purpose, a dedication that was unnerving.
Naruto saw a figure etched in spectral hues against the otherworldly backdrop.
It was a man he had known and cared for. Naruto's eyes closed momentarily.
It was Kakashi.
The one he had known. A man he had killed himself.
Kakashi, illuminated by the dusk's glow, turned around. His lone visible eye crinkled at the sight of Naruto. There was no shock, no surprise, just a gentle and knowing recognition that sent chills down Naruto's spine.
A moment passed, feeling like an eternity, before Kakashi shifted his attention back to his original focus.
A young girl, silver hair gleaming like moonlit silk under the cosmic glow, was playing by Kakashi's side. The same silver as Kakashi's, the same silver Naruto remembered. She was a burst of innocent joy and playfulness.
There was a soft smile on Kakashi's face — the face Naruto had only seen once before, stained by blood. He seemed happy, the way Naruto had never truly seen him in life.
Something in Naruto's chest was tight as he walked past him.
As Naruto moved closer to the shore, a sense of surreal disconnection wrapped around him like a mist, every step felt dreamlike, a foot in both the future, present and past.
Hyūga Neji was there, more carefree than he had been in life, teaching a group of Hyūga and non-Hyūga children a unique blend of Taijutsu. A grinning Hanabi at his side, their joy as tangible as the sand beneath Naruto's feet.
Just ahead, Sarutobi Hiruzen was a picture of tranquility. A half-smoked pipe in one hand, the other holding a scroll. He was lost in his thoughts, yet his presence was vivid, real…
Naruto could barely understand the surge of contradictory emotions that welled up within him at the sight. A blend of nostalgia, joy, regret, and an unspeakable sense of loss.
Something he had never really taken the time to consider.
Sarutobi noticed him and just wagged his eyebrows at him, almost knowingly. Biwako, next to him, rolled her eyes in her usual manner.
Naruto walked past them, past his parents, past regrets, past the ever-loyal Sakura and the little dark-haired shadow dutifully trailing her.
Past the Sage, past Yasu, past Asura. Past Madara's brothers, past his long-dead cousin, Ayaka. Past Kaoru, Arisu, Ichirou. Past Juro, Sora, Teruko.
In the center of the city, where there once was nothing, now stood an awe-inspiring shrine.
At the heart of the shrine was a statue, a divine figure wrought from celestial metals, imposing in its magnificence.
It was a mighty butterfly, of course.
The villagers congregated around the statue, their faces upturned in reverential worship.
Children sang hymns of praise, adults offered prayers, and the elderly narrated tales of the Great Kami's glory.
It was a harmonious picture of unwavering devotion, a utopia under divine rule.
And when Naruto looked up, the very same cosmic butterfly hovered silently in the twilight sky, as though suspended in the air.
Its iridescent wings glowed with an otherworldly light, casting a haunting yet beautiful luminescence over the village.
Its eyes sparkled with a million galaxies, and beneath them, that familiar, cryptic, terrifying grin stretched wide.
…
"Do you see now? The serenity of existence under my eternal reign?"
Agehachō-Yosei's voice unfurled in Naruto's ear, the timeless, cosmic satisfaction in its tone chilling.
Was the kami mocking him?
"This could be the true destiny of your world as well, Uzumaki Naruto. Your people, existing in perfect harmony under the rule of divinity, utterly free of strife. The utopia you have sought to create. Even those once departed, find their place amidst the living here."
As haunting as the thought was, Naruto could not deny the possibility entirely.
Agehachō-Yosei was a deity, a timeless being of cosmic might, and Naruto was unsure of the full extent of its powers.
"Yes." The kami laughed. "Enma, guardian of the abyss, will find himself ensnared in a fate irrevocable. His defiance shall crumble, like a star surrendering to the gravitational embrace of a black hole. The warden of specters will find no recourse but to fold and bend his knee in humble acknowledgement."
Naruto couldn't ignore the slightly glazed, vacant look in the people's eyes, the glimpse into the true nature of this false utopia.
Besides, he had witnessed firsthand the cruel atrocities Agehachō-Yosei was capable of unleashing. And the kami was only too willing to do so.
He could not, would not subject his people to the oppressive rule of a seemingly benevolent deity — and he was aware of the irony at play here.
"I refuse." Naruto asserted firmly.
Lightning flashed.
The divine vision crumbled as quickly as it had taken form, the idyllic images dissolving into nothingness, leaving them in the harsh reality: a shattered landscape.
And Yoisen was still in the kami's grip.
Agehachō-Yosei let out a sigh. "Must I persist?" It inquired, an edge of mirth in its voice.
"No need for that." Naruto spat, teeth gritted. "I won't fall for any of it, so you might as well save your time. You are no Inari."
"Perhaps not." Agehachō-Yosei admitted with dry amusement.
"And I am not the same naive youth that Indra tried to intimidate." Naruto retorted, shaking his head. "If you intend to break me now…" He stared at the kami.
Agehachō-Yosei seemed unperturbed by his resolution, leaning back with an eerie calmness.
"Are you suggesting ruining your fragile mind? I have no need for such crude methods." It responded, its mouth stretching into a wide, unsettling grin. "I shall bind you with an Oath, in the manner we kami are bound. And you shall become my instrument."
Yoisen tried to say something.
The kami raised its hand dismissively. "Be silent." Yoisen's protests abruptly ceased. The gathering of her chakra didn't.
Naruto's fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing through countless scenarios. Each one ended in a checkmate. Except for one.
Agehachō-Yosei's voice echoed in the suffocating silence.
"Listen carefully and listen well, Uzumaki Naruto." It began, its tone laced with an amusement that was cold, distant.
"As a servant bound by the divine Oath, there are terms you shall adhere to:
"First, you shall not act against my will or interest. Your words, actions, even your thoughts shall align with my purpose. In thought, word, and deed, you shall strive to further my cause, not hinder it.
"Second, you shall not seek to overcome your station. You are a servant, bound to me, and shall remain as such. Any dreams of rebellion, notions of independence, or thoughts of insubordination shall find no place in your heart or mind. You shall never think of rising above your mortal nature.
"Third, you shall aid in my quest for supremacy. You shall utilize your influence, relationships, and abilities to draw more souls into my fold. You shall encourage faith in me, propagate my teachings, and gather followers under my banner.
"Fourth, your resistance shall be extinguished. Any attempt, any whisper of an intention to seek higher help to break this Oath will be considered an act of treachery. You shall accept my reign as the ultimate reality and abandon any ideas of freeing yourself or others from it.
"Lastly, you shall serve me unconditionally. Your loyalty, your allegiance, your very essence shall belong to me. You shall exist solely to serve my purpose, to enhance my glory, to magnify my power.
"Understand this, Uzumaki Naruto. This is the Oath of the servant, the covenant binding you to me, the bond that ensures your complete submission to my will.
"Do you agree to these terms?"
The words hung heavily in the air.
…
"…The only way I would even bother to consider such a thing would be if you agreed to a similar one, not to harm any of them." Naruto said, eyes hooded. "This world and a few others, at the very least."
'Naruto!' Yoisen's thoughts were laced with desperate urgency, and Naruto could feel it.
She was likely unsure whether he meant his words or not.
Yoisen strained against her bindings, her face pale as moonlight, and her eyes wide with horror. She was silenced.
Her thoughts continued to reach him, however. And even then, she continued to channel chakra.
—let me die, I will buy you time — escape with the others until you can find a better solution — perhaps it will be enough after all—
Agehachō-Yosei regarded him with an icy stare, its ethereal eyes casting strange reflection in the kami's celestial light.
"I do not believe I will agree to another Oath ever again." Agehachō-Yosei said, its voice colder than the void between the stars. "You are in no position to negotiate."
The air turned frigid, a tangible chill running down the spine of every mortal present. Naruto met the kami's icy gaze, just as unyielding. "Then I believe we're at an impasse."
His eyes were locked on Agehachō-Yosei, a fire flickering in their depths; he refused to back down.
He did not allow himself to glance at Yoisen, who was thrashing.
He could not save her — not with so many others' lives at stake.
He had to take this step into the void, but he couldn't — there was no telling how many would die if he did.
And he had to save her — but he couldn't.
"Hardly an obstacle." Agehachō-Yosei responded, a chilling smile spreading across its divine visage. "Does it not matter to you that your ally is in my grasp, perhaps? That your son is next? That your world is next?"
It did matter.
"Do you believe these are mere threats?" The sneer in the kami's voice was clear as crystal. "Do you think that simply because you have linked both their souls to your own, they can escape me…?"
A tremor ran through Naruto's steadfast composure, a single crack in the facade.
"Ah. Perhaps a demonstration is in order." The kami sighed in delight.
"I have seen the horrors you can bring." Naruto said, keeping his tone even. Forcing his furious chakra down. "Without an Oath, I have no—"
A wide grin stretched upon Agehachō-Yosei's face.
"Suit yourself." It said, with all the weight of looming disaster.
A lance of butterflies and blackness went through Yoisen's chest.
Naruto stilled, eyes wide.
The butterflies flew away, free.
The kami's curse began spreading. His companion, his ally, his friend — Yoisen didn't crumble. She staggered, and then she fell.
Her immortal body, a conduit to the kami's corruption, began to age rapidly in front of him.
No.
Blood pooled on the cold floor, and her trembling hand traced fiery runes in it. In a flash, she released the chakra she had gathered through them — not enough. Naruto heard himself think, from far away.
Keep your guard up. Don't look away.
Naruto, who stood entirely still, knew the runes — knew the plan. Barriers, the strongest she could still manage — but incomplete, the same way his own technique had been. Strong, by virtue of her sheer will, of her sacrifice—
No.
She tried to speak. "Shin—…"
A ragged breath escaped her, tainted with crimson life essence. Staining her lips in the color her hair had once been. Naruto's heart pounded like a war drum in his chest.
Don't look away. From the kami? From her?
"Yoisen?" Naruto asked faintly.
"I'm sorry." Yoisen choked out. In her eyes, there was nothing but acceptance.
With a feeble effort, she pushed her sword towards him.
Naruto's voice felt rough. "…Why?"
Why are you sorry? Why are you giving me this?
"I have failed." She said. Yoisen coughed, the effort wracking her fragile body.
"No." Naruto denied vehemently, his voice sounding as distant as his thoughts. "No, you haven't."
"But… I hope I have been of some use, at the very least." She whispered. "Do it — I know you will manage, even alone."
He didn't truly believe it.
He refused to accept her fate. He couldn't. He refused to believe that he had done what Indra himself had failed to do: leaving her to die.
He refused to believe the kami's words, too.
He refused a great many things.
His thoughts felt like a loud torrent, going past him, utterly out of his control.
She looked so frail, so delicate as her immortal skin began to crease with age. It changed nothing, Yoisen was still—
Her thoughts echoed, mingled with his own through their shared bond.
Yoisen remembered laughing with Tsugumi, Natsuko and Rie on a bright sunny afternoon.
She remembered hopeful days spent with the Sage, Asura, Indra, and her sister.
She remembered the soft cooing of Nao's firstborn child, a sound that echoed in the tranquility of the early morning light.
Swearing to protect the child, born in good health. Then the child's descendants, who bore their name.
She saw her mother, stern but ever kind, weaving intricate patterns onto silk; her unwavering spirit.
She recalled her father's gentle smile, whenever he shared tales of ancient warriors and mythical creatures; the soft glow of the moon.
She reminisced about the quiet strength of her sister, who bravely battled illness until her final breath; her spirit, ever resilient.
She remembered many others; people whose story she had told him, and people who now only existed in her memories. They would be gone entirely with her, too—
She saw the reflection of her sister in the innocent eyes of Nao's grandchildren. Each child carried a piece of her sister's legacy, manifesting in their wild, unrestrained spirits, and in their strikingly red hair.
She thought of the way Naruto's eyes sparkled with delight each time his son surprised him; his laughter, the warmth of his embrace, more comforting than any hearth's fire.
And then she spoke, and her words were as firm as ever.
Yoisen grabbed Naruto's hand, and her chakra rose one last time.
"You never needed me here." She said, her smile tender, even as she labored for breath. And the most painful thing was that Naruto knew she believed her own words entirely. "If I have been a burden at all, then… I'm glad—"
There were many things that Naruto wanted to say.
"…I will find you. That will be the very first thing." Was what came out, through clenched teeth. "I'll get you back."
The corners of Yoisen's lips pulled into a painful smile. "…You don't have to lie, Naruto."
It felt like shattering through glass, and crawling out in agony from the shards on the other side.
Yoisen's bond was gone, leaving a hollow echo in its wake.