Author's note (2023/09/13): Hey all!
New chapter alert! Currently working on the next few upcoming chapters to add to this fic. I haven't been online in a bit due to work being crazy and other life things, but rest assured this work will be finished - possibly even within the year (?! what is happening!?). Things are going to pick up in the upcoming chapters, so stay tuned for that. Seeing your kudos and comments makes my life and I'm so stoked so many of you have read this 700k+ fic series so far! I hope to make you all anticipate what's to come.
As always, thank you for reading! xx
Content advisory: childbirth, child abduction
Chapter 32
Temūjin
Nomasaki collapsed into Gaara as every ounce of her strength faded.
It was not long before Ekashiba and Sana found them by the cabin pathway and were able to escort Gaara safely down the slopes while he carried his unconscious wife in his arms. A heavy snowfall began as they descended, making the trek to the chieftain's manse treacherous. Handmaidens flocked to the grand doors as they entered and whisked Nomasaki away urgently to be treated. The cold had gnawed on Gaara's face, numbing his cheeks and nose. Sitting by the roaring hearth, he assured Kyō that his daughter was fine – only reckless in nature. Kyō only sat in silence, emotions bubbling beneath his exhausted exterior. Gaara chose to say nothing more, and once he regained sensation in his frigid extremities, he left the great hall and returned to be at his wife's side.
"Will Nomasaki-senpai be alright?" Sana asked, sitting beside Ekashiba. "We were supposed to continue my training before she leaves for Sunagakure."
"Our lady will be fine," Ekashiba assured. He glanced to where Gaara diligently awaited at his wife's bedside, devoted. "As long as she rests, she will recover in no time. Your training will resume when the time is right." He stood, directing her to do so as well. "We should relay the news to our chieftain. He's conversing with the Yamamori as we speak."
Sana nodded. "Yes, sir!"
Nomasaki was awake when Gaara entered.
She had colour return to her face, but weariness was fraught upon her. Setsuka was taken by Sayuri to the nursery, as he had been told. Handmaidens diligently cleaned every inch of the room, filled her glass with water, set aside herbs for her to chew, and adjusted her pillows at her back. Once they were alone, Gaara sat at her bedside and listened. Nomasaki fought every urge to weep, clutching the sheets tightly at her sides while she told him every word.
Gaara met her weary eyes in sympathy. "What else did she say?"
"She… thought I was her sister, Kaede… The one that was sent to marry an ancestor of Hatake Kakashi," Nomasaki sighed, turning to the sight of snow falling by the window. "It was… apparently by design that I become the matriarch one day. She said my grandfather, Tōga of the Yamamori, dreamt it… after his sons died."
The clairvoyance, Gaara remembered, Even back then… he saw her. He wondered how long the dreams could go on in generations. If they ever became prophecies. He lowered his head regretfully. "I would've gone with you… if you asked."
She shook her head, averting her gaze. "I didn't want to burden you further. You had the summit to deal with." A tinge of guilt panged through her as she brought herself to ask the question. "How did… it go?"
Gaara gave a subtle smirk. "Iwa backed down, and Earth surrendered all claims to the Mountain border and its mines. The conflict has ended... for now, at least."
She snorted. "Serves them right… I only wish I could've stared them down myself!"
Chakra entered her senses, drawing her gaze to the doorway.
Toki and her father entered, the latter appearing quite dire. Toki spoke first, approaching the foot of the bed in dignified calm. She bowed her head slightly. "My lady," She appeared pleasant, yet a tone of annoyance plagued her glance. "I've arrived to see to your condition. How are you feeling?"
Nomasaki nodded, trying her best to smile. "Exhausted, but better,"
"I would say much," Toki scoffed. Her brow furrowed, and she gestured a wrinkled finger as if lecturing a child. Nomasaki gulped, knowing she deserved it. "Hemorrhaging after birth isn't for the faint of heart. You lost so much blood. I'm surprised you only lost consciousness for as long as you did! You might as well have taken a nap! It must be the wolf's blood in your veins… Honestly! Nomasaki-sama, I admire your vigour, but you must rest!" A handmaiden arrived with a tray of towels, oranges, and a ceramic tankard, and Toki directed the woman to Nomasaki's bedside. "Drink this, please."
Nomasaki held the tankard hesitantly to her lips. It did not smell horrid, but it was definitely not the sake or mead she hoped it was. Medicine was medicine, after all. Sighing a breath, she closed her eyes and drank. She jolted. Drink sprayed from her lips as she spat the remnants out. It was the most disgusting, vile, putrid liquid she had ever ingested. The handmaiden shook, and an orange fell from the tray, but Toki stood unmoved.
"What the hell is this?" She coughed, near gagging. "It tastes awful!"
"What did you expect? Sake?" Toki snorted. "You must replenish your iron levels, my lady. You must drink all of it." Meeting Nomasaki's widened violet eyes, she narrowed her glance firmly. "All of it."
Wincing, Nomasaki plugged her nose and drank all that was left. She coughed and nearly gagged from the medicine, but thankfully, the sheepish handmaiden passed her an orange, and Nomasaki promptly ate the fruit, even getting juice all over the sheets. But she did not care – she wanted to do anything that could remove that vile taste from her mouth. And someone will come to change the sheets later. Wiping the remnants of orange peel from her lips, Nomasaki watched as Toki took her leave with the handmaiden.
Toki and the handmaiden bowed their heads. "I will be back later,"
Kyō nodded. "Thank you, Toki-sama." As the door slid closed, he stormed over to the bedside, the angriest Nomasaki had ever seen him. But it was apparent it had misplaced fatherly concern. "What possessed you to endanger yourself like this? You just gave birth to your daughter, my grandchild! Have you lost your senses?! You should have -,"
"Kyō," Gaara's tongue was sharp as ice. "She had her reasons."
Her father turned to him, distraught. "And what reasons were they? The matriarch passed, but Nomasaki didn't have to risk her own life!"
"I had no other choice!" Nomasaki shouted. She drew the room to silence, and their eyes fell to her. Nomasaki gazed at her lap absently, forcing herself to remain stoic as she fought the grief that plagued her. "I honoured a clan promise… As of today, I'm the new matriarch." Her heart jumped to her throat, and the words began spilling out. "Dad, there's something you need to know… I can't keep this from you any longer, but it's something I have to tell you…"
Gaara tensed, knowing what was coming. "Nomasaki,"
"He needs to know… It's time," She turned to her father, her shoulders already shaking in contained sorrow. "Mother didn't only lose you… She lost a son -,"
"What?" Kyō stood stunned. "What are… you saying?"
And the moment had finally come.
Clutching the blankets tight, Nomasaki swallowed the sobs that dared to claw their way up her throat. Her fangs grew, anger swelling inside her fractured heart. "After you left Yamagakure… she had another child – nine months later," The thought of it made her blood boil. Her gaze averted to her lap, forcing herself to set aside her rage. "She named him Temūjin… and he was stolen."
Kyō was distraught, lost for words.
"Stolen?" All he could do was repeat what was already said.
She did not cry. Staying strong, she nodded but could not bring herself to say anymore. At least now her father knew the truth – that there was another who shared their blood. The stolen child. Her heart ached, swirling with torment, guilt, and anger for her brother and for the fate thrust upon her. But she felt even more terribly for her father, who was just learning this now after years of exile and rebirth. She wished she could have told him sooner, but the chieftain of Yama had enough threats to know of one more – one that could spell the undoing and demise of the village forever.
Gaara averted his gaze, keeping a stern calm. "It was Genji, the patriarch of the Kurogane family in the Land of Wind. He used a memory genjutsu on your wife, Mikomi, and stole her child shortly after he was born… when she was most vulnerable."
"And he's alive," Nomasaki said, nearly snarling her words. "More than alive… he's our enemy. He was raised to be a perfect puppet for Genji and the Tenbu agents," Her blood simmered, and she grasped the sheets tighter. "And he has a seal on his heart…"
"I… I have a son?! How did…?!" He covered his face with a rough hand, his greying orange beard spilling out between his fingers. "Oh, Mikomi… I'm so sorry…" Kyō collapsed into a chair, distraught. He glanced at his daughter and Gaara, his widened eyes panicked and aghast. "How did… How did you know?"
"The Uchiha, Sasuke – he was the one to discover it. Temūjin and Nomasaki share DNA – 50%, to be exact. Full siblings…" Gaara explained. "He attacked us… more specifically, he ambushed Sunagakure while I was away… but he could not bring himself to harm Nomasaki."
Nomasaki nodded, recounting the incident. "It was… strange…" She blinked slowly, her gaze absently locked on the furs over her lap. "He just… looked at me, and then – he left. I think he's still in there, somewhere… or at least, I hope…" She looked up, meeting Gaara's glance with an iron will. "There's a seal on his heart, and I think… I should be the one to free him. Or at least try."
"A son… By the desert gods…" Kyō rubbed at his brow, sighing away the sobs that dared to choke his words. "Where is he now?"
"None of my scouts have been successful in figuring that out," Gaara confessed, his eyes averted and narrowed. "Temūjin adds an extra layer of difficulty to our plans on destroying Tenbu, as Genji may feel the need to use him as a sacrificial pawn." He eyed Kyō in sternness – a Kage's glance. "We can't be too hasty, as much as we want to attack them head-on. Suna and Yama both need to exercise caution when moving ahead. We need to approach decisively… and above all, discretely."
"I know I'll be able to find him," Nomasaki spoke, drawing their glances. Her violet eyes were determined – hardened with her resolve. Pain and fury rumbled through her, but she kept her wolfish blood at bay. She bit her tongue briefly. "His chakra smells the same as mine… It's hard to tune out."
Kyō nodded, resigning himself to hope.
Seeing the tears gleam in Nomasaki's eyes, his own heart sank.
She had been through enough loss.
The night was sombre.
As the funeral rites began, Yamamori clansmen stood silently in white garbs before the clan's ancient shrine. At the front of the crowd, Nomasaki stood beside Gaara with her father and Ekashiba. Weakness still plagued her, especially in her knees, but she insisted on paying tribute to her fallen matriarch and the last surviving of her ancient family. Had she known of Chizue's relation to her mother, she would have spent more time at her cabin in the years she had during Yamagakure's restoration. She grieved not only for Chizue but for the knowledge lost. Laying as if asleep, the matriarch of the Yamamori clan was wearing her finest embroidered robe and furs and was surrounded by snow lilies and two ornate daggers that appeared as if fangs. It was a send-off befitting a woman of such stature and blood right.
The village priestess arrived with her acolytes, and the funeral began under the moon's glow.
"We are here to mourn the passing of our esteemed matriarch, Chizue-sama of the main household of the Yamamori clan, who journeyed with our people to the Land of Frost in the times of darkness," The priestess began, her voice reaching all those who could hear. "She was sister to Kikyō-sama, now passed… Aunt to Tōga-sama, fifth of his name, patriarch of the Yamamori clan, now passed. Great aunt to Mikomi-sama, now passed. Grandaunt to Nomasaki-sama, the Wolf of the Desert… Chizue-sama is now with our ancestors in the Pure Land, feasting in its great halls and telling stories of our triumphs. This is the way."
The crowd repeated. "This is the way."
An acolyte approached the pyre with a torch, igniting the logs beneath the matriarch's final sleep. Flames swam to the casket, coating it in its fiery embrace. Orange soon licked the dark sky above as the flames rose higher on the windless night. Forcing herself to use all her strength, Nomasaki proceeded to the shrine's altar as the priestess nodded in her direction. She knelt and allowed the priestess to bestow the 'mark of the gods' upon her. Closing her violet eyes, Nomasaki breathed smoothly as the red sap was drawn onto her face. It ran down her eyes and chin, marking her in its crimson paint as many of her ancestors were for thousands of years.
And she accepted its burden.
The priestess raised her arms into the air, her white sleeves falling. "By the laws and customs of the ancient mountain for which we stand, Nomasaki-sama succeeds Chizue-sama as clan matriarch from this day until her last day. Long may she live!"
Nomasaki stood and saw the sea of violet-eyed onlookers chant her name.
"Long may she live! Long may she live!"
As the wind howled, she looked at the pyre as its flames and smoke grew. A strange proudness birthed inside of her, giving her the strength to speak. "This is a new age for the Yamamori clan, once again united in our ancestral home," She said, the wind carrying her words. "I ask that we share a moment of silence for Chizue-sama and remember her fondly… This is the way."
The Yamamori bowed their heads to remember their fallen, the sea of people kneeling as one. "This is the way," was said amongst them all. Gaara knelt as well, paying his respects to the clan's elder in the only way he knew how. Kyō kept silent, witnessing his daughter become the clan's new matriarch and fulfilling her destiny. But the revelation of his lost son kept him from feeling anything more than pride.
It, indeed, was a sombre night.
Ekashiba was the first to stand. "Hail, Nomasaki-sama!"
Soon, other clansmen joined the chant. Her name was echoed by every Yamamori on that mountain, their breaths rising into the cold, northern air. Some even held their fists high, and some grasped drawn blades. But all were chanting her name, like a heartbeat pounding in one's chest. Surprised, Nomasaki turned and bore witness.
"Hail! Hail!"
It was a chorus of praise – of hope.
I know what I must do, and yet… She blinked, watching the flames rise and swallow the pyre. The road ahead is shrouded in darkness… I can see it. A heaviness filled her chest as it grew with her breath. The wind blew through her gold hair, stinging her wet eyes. And Temūjin is in its grasp.
A ginger touch graced her hand. Turning, she saw Gaara's hand in hers, holding it comfortingly. When she looked up, his ringed-eyes met hers in unwavering devotion. Protection, love, and empathy. Even in silence, he comforted her in all the ways he could. She squeezed his hand tightly and looked back to the flames, unafraid and resolute.
She realized her fate was in her own hands – and decided what she must do.
In shared silence, they watched the pyre's flames dance in the night skies.
When they returned to the manse, Kyō asked for a word with Nomasaki before retiring.
"This blade," Nomasaki marvelled, sitting beside the great hearth with the katana in her hands. The blade appeared as if cut from the heavens and glowed a mystical white before the hearth fire. On its inscription, she saw the words 'slayer of demons'. She looked up at her father, wide-eyed. "Is this…?"
Kyō nodded somberly. "Onikiri, your clan's ancestral blade. The patriarch, or well, matriarch, is bestowed this upon their ceremony. It was a blade forged from the tooth of an ogre, it is said… and was used to rid the mountains of demons. For thousands of years, the Yamamori have kept Onikiri. But since Yamagakure was without the Yamamori for some time, the clan gifted me the blade after I was made chieftain." He placed his hands over hers, lightly pushing the blade towards her. "This belongs to you, Nomasaki. You are the matriarch now. Use this to protect your clan… to save your brother."
Her heart jumped in her chest, realizing the weight of his words. She blinked back at the heavenly sword, nearly blinded by its beauty and might. It was an exquisite blade. She had not swung a sword since her time in the mountain's forest – her trial of isolation. She could sense the power within, surging from its hilt to point. She swallowed back any tears that dared to swim to her throat and nodded with utmost determination.
"Thank you, father…"
And the snow gently fell outside.
It was a hollow tomb.
Eroded by the thousands of years of wind and sand, the once revered Fūjin Temple sat in waste. It was once home to monks who prayed in its great chamber and was visited by those of the desert faith to pay pilgrimage to the gods they so worshipped. But war, famine, natural disasters, and calamities have ruined the temple. Its red and gold painted walls and ornaments were long faded, its tapestries eaten by moths, and the grand statues in its once flourishing courtyard were toppled and buried under the desert sands of the land's northern reaches, near the treeline that divided the land into two worlds. A sphinx was said to have been at its mouth, but all evidence of its ancient kingdom had long faded. Only the roof of the temple was visible to the trained eye. Like a diamond in the rough, it sat hidden amongst the ruins of a city ruled by a nameless pharaoh history had forgotten.
Tenbu made its nest deep within the ancient sandstone walls.
Shadow eclipsed all shape and sound, torches leading the way scarcely through its ruined corridors. Those of the Kurogane clan who sided with Tenbu retreated like rats to the ancient temple, while those who did not face the sword. Prisoners were taken, only to be released if they promised to sacrifice their lives for the good of their cause. Only one prisoner sat in the dark cell, and she shivered under a layer of ragged blankets as she yelled continuously for help. Pleading, begging, demanding – her voice growing raw after each breath of the dry, dead air.
"Someone, please! Let me out!" Matsuri's shouts echoed. "Please, I didn't do anything wrong! I owed no debt to the Kurogane! It was my parents! I did nothing to deserve this! You have to believe me! Please!"
A guard rang his blade against the bars, startling her. "Silence, desert rat! Keep this up, and we'll let you starve!"
"Just let me go!" Matsuri wept, her shouting growing more desperate. "You must! Please! I don't want to die here!"
"You will if you won't shut up! Quiet!" The guard shoved his katana through the bars, leaving Matsuri to fall back in fright. "Next time, I won't miss!"
The crying bothered Temūjin greatly.
Why even bother imprisoning someone so weak? She is of no use to the cause. I'd sooner silence her myself. Forcing himself to rest, he resisted every urge to rise and storm down to the dungeons.
Even in his own chambers, he could hear her whimpering and crying out from far beyond the dungeons. He could not escape her tormented chakra, sensing her panic and hysteria. Tossing and turning, he shoved his head back onto the pillow, his back to the door. Genji sent him to the colosseum to collect bounties and garner support for their mission, but the trek turned tiresome. He fought and slain many missing-nin and wayward shinobi who dared to cross his path, but his own chakra and strength seemed to be out of focus and worsening.
It happened on that day when he was sent to find her – and he met eyes with his own blood sister.
His heart twinged, throbbing painfully in his chest whenever he could focus his chakra. The beast-blood in his veins simmered in rage as he remembered that fateful day, relishing when he would slay her himself. But a strange feeling soon swirled in his gut, and Temūjin was unsure what it was. Genji taught him emotions were a waste of time and the crux of shinobi – the only feeling that mattered was once for vengeance.
Soon enough, his weary bones relaxed, and sleep found him.
Amongst shadow beside the flickering candlelight, Genji met with his subordinates. Clothed in black garbs and beast-graven armour, the agents of Tenbu who met him were as menacing as the ones swallowed by the sands in their final push against Sunagakure – when Kenzō met his end by beheading. Kōga's death was unexpected, but Genji surmised it was a necessary sacrifice. If he had survived, Genji's own rise to power may have been thwarted within the cult. And unlike Kōga, Genji had the better sense to not hastily meet his death. A fool he was, Genji thought bitterly, We almost lost our cause… all because of what he misread in a blasted, ancient text. Using the beast-blood from the she-wolf rendered Kōga of the Kumatsume into a mess of tendrils and power, but his end soon awaited after the technique was eventually dispelled.
Genji could risk no more failures if their destiny was to be fulfilled.
"Are the preparations complete?"
"Close," A Tenbu agent answered, their eyes dark in the dim light. "All that's required is the blood of a beast… and then the Summoning Ritual can take place."
Genji scoffed. "If Kenzō-sama and Kōga-sama weren't so hasty, the shinobi nations would be on their knees by now. It was a mistake to entrust the sacrifice-gathering to the Kumatsume clan… They not only failed in their task but joined our enemies in the end. And the Reverse Sealing…" The foolishness of it all was humourous to him only in its failure. Anger raged under his breath, but he remained stoic as he conversed with his men. "What fools they were… going so far to kill themselves. Kenzō, too." I should be thankful the she-wolf eliminated that bastard for me… He only would've gotten in my way as the plan proceeded. Genji kept the last thought to himself, knowing a wolf slept only a few doors down. "Keep stoking the flames in Earth and Mountain. War may have been avoided for now, but peace never truly lasts."
The Tenbu agents nodded, dedicated to the cause. "And the sacrifice?"
"…Give it more time. I still have use for him."
As he blinked slowly, he glanced to the distant door where Temūjin slept. A wolf he was, but he was contained – caged. His Kekkei Genkai was sealed by what lay on his heart, for if he were to ever find out the truth, any man who dared be too near would be ripped to shreds. Genji did not fear him. He raised the young man as if a son, a pig for slaughter. And soon, he would become the key to summon what was promised in the ancient texts.
The prophecy must be fulfilled.
"As you say, Genji-sama." The Tenbu agents bowed their heads. "From the ashes, my lord."
They faded as if shadows dancing upon the temple's cracked walls.
Silence engulfed the dead corridors of the tomb, with not even a single footstep or patter of mice to be heard. In his chambers, Temūjin slept deeply, his body aching from the curse he was burdened with. His dreams were the same as every other time he closed his eyes. The falling of snow, a woman's weeping, a howl upon the winds, and the approach of darkness. Behind his eyes, they repeated without fail, haunting him when he would inevitably wake.
And he slipped deeper into slumber...
Twenty years ago…
It was a calm winter's day.
Mikomi spread her legs further, her clawed hands clutching the bedsheets with all her might as her screams of agony echoed in the bedchambers. Toki was the only attending handmaiden, as the others were too frightened to approach the wolf-mother of the mountains. The heiress to the Yamamori clan was in labour for over nine hours, but the pain grew unbearable as she neared the seventh. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks as she pushed and cried until finally, a great weight finally left her. She collapsed back into the pillows as she heard the sound of life taking its first breath. Toki awed and quickly cleaned the newborn and brought it to its mother. A beautiful child, it was plainly seen.
"A strong baby boy, my lady! Congratulations!" Toki swooned. "And healthy, too. He has your eyes. Tōga-sama would no doubt rejoice in the birth of not one, but two grandchildren. Your ancestors of the Yamamori clan shall give you blessings on this day."
Mikomi wept upon seeing her son blink his eyes. His face was like her husband's, and the memory ached her. Kyō had been present for the birth of Nomasaki, but absent for their son. Still, no word of him had reached Yama since his departure that snowy night. Moving a finger over her son's rosy cheek, she saw remnants of another in his face. Memories flooded back, and sorrow and fondness crept into her heart.
"Toki-sama, thank you so much…" She spoke quietly. "His name is… Temūjin. After my late brother."
"What a lovely name! Surely, the child will be as strong as his predecessors with an ancient name of the Yamamori as his namesake." Toki paused at the doorway, bowing her head. "I will come back later to check-in. I'll see to your eldest. Sleep, my lady."
Mikomi bowed back, eternally grateful. "Thank you…"
It was not long before Mikomi lay her newborn into the wooden bassinet at her bedside and fell into slumber. The long and laborious birth exhausted her, and sleep beckoned her to rest her weary bones. She dreamt of her children and her husband – together at last. She wished to see him again, to take in Sunagakure, and to raise their children together at the Yamamori's ancient manse. She felt peaceful. Tranquil. And her heart was truly warmed.
A bump of the door sliding abruptly open woke her.
"T…Toki-sama…?" Blinking her eyes hazily, she saw a man cloaked in black. She could not see his face. Breathing in the air, she felt his chakra's intent. Darkness alarmed her. "Who… Who are you…?"
The cloaked man did not answer.
Mikomi wrestled exhaustion to rise from the pillow, watching him approach. "Who… are you? How dare you come into my home!"
"…I'm a medic-nin."
A lie.
"A medic-nin…? No… Your chakra, it's not -,"
Genji paused at the foot of her bed, eyeing her contemptuously. "That doesn't matter. You can't stop me even if you tried… even if you are a wolf." He clapped his hands together for a hand-sign, power enveloping the room. "Genjutsu! Memory Erasure!"
Mikomi was frozen.
The jutsu engulfed her, swirling before her eyes and fading her consciousness. Weakness soon overcame her, swallowing her in its embrace. "No… no…!"
She collapsed onto the floor beside her bed of furs. Genji hastily grabbed the swaddled newborn from his bassinet, and Temūjin wailed in the arms of the stranger. Sweeping his dark cloak over the infant, Genji disappeared from the ancient manse – stealing the youngest Yamamori away. When Mikomi woke, she grew distraught at the sight of the empty crib.
"My baby…" She sobbed. "I failed you as your mother… My body was too weak to carry you… I'm so sorry…"
And her memories of giving birth to Temūjin were erased.
All according to Genji's plan.
Toki rushed in, panicked. "Mikomi-sama! What on earth happened?" She gasped upon seeing the sight of the heiress weeping into the crib. "My lady -,"
"Don't you dare enter!" Mikomi's beastly voice rumbled the chamber, striking Toki with fear. "Begone! Leave me alone to grieve!"
Sorrowfully, Toki relented. "As you wish, my lady… I'm sorry."
After the handmaiden bowed her head and took her leave, Mikomi cried into the night.
For the son she never had…
Darkness.
For six years, the stolen child was kept in the dungeons beneath the Kurogane settlement. The guards watched over the young wolf in resentment and fear. Every day, they would cautiously push food and water under the bars so the child could eat and quench his thirst. Temūjin was accustomed to the darkness. For him, it came easy. Some days, meals would be skipped, only to have the child shredding through the next meal as if a rapid hound. But most of the time, the child sat silently, clutching his legs close for warmth. He longed for friends, for family, and for the comfort of a mother's love he never knew. His purple eyes flickered in the dark as he saw two guards stroll past his cell.
A guard paused, frightened. "Is that…?"
"Shh! Genji-sama says not to approach! We must not tell the villagers! Or else, we'll lose our tongues… or our heads." The other warned. "That kid is a monster…!"
"A wolf," The guard sighed, alarmed. "No wonder they want him locked up…"
As quick as they came, Temūjin was alone once again.
Days later, a man came to visit his cell. Temūjin had never seen him before and took his scowling face and narrowed eyes with caution. A slight sneer formed on the man's lips as he met Temūjin's wide, lilac eyes. "Who… Who are you?"
"I am Genji-sama. It is about time we become well-acquainted. You're Temūjin, yes? Such a strong name…" His sneer faded, eyeing the boy intently. "We may not be blood, but I am now your father… and you are my son. You must do as I say and become the perfect shinobi, for it is your destiny."
Temūjin did not know what to say. "Did I… have parents?"
"They abandoned you at the foot of your mountain," Genji said. "They had their little heiress already. You were only the spare… with no place in the clan's line. But unlike the family from which you were born, I need you, Temūjin. Your potential is not yet realized… and they will regret casting aside their only son in favour of a daughter."
His heart ached, tears filling his purple eyes.
"If you wish to be free, you must do as I say. Understood?"
Temūjin sniffed. "Yes, sir."
And since that day, Temūjin became Genji's underling.
He was trained in the ways of the shinobi as if he were Genji's own son. Ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu. However, the latter was unable to be performed on his part due to his beastly chakra. The boy excelled at weaponry and close combat and often chose the war-axe as his weapon of choice. Spars in the courtyard with the men-at-arms strengthened him, and by the time he was ten, Temūjin was capable of disarming grown men with his prowess.
One day, Temūjin grew bold enough to ask. "Why can't I go outside?"
"Your powers strike fear in the hearts of weaker men," "If I were to let you out, you may never be able to see daylight again. You are to stay in your cell until I permit you to leave. Is that clear?"
"…Yes, Genji-sama."
On the eve of his thirteenth birthday, Temūjin was summoned from his cell in the darkness.
Blinking intensely, he took in the light from the sconces as he was led down the corridor by a litter of guards. Genji stood in the chamber's centre, stoic-faced and stone-like. His master commanded him to kneel, and so he did. Temūjin opened his tunic to bare his chest as was asked, and Genji began weaving the intricate hand-signs. When all was done, his master slammed his palm over his heart – and Temūjin last remembered becoming one with the darkness that soon enveloped his vision. He did not scream from the scorching pain that seared between his ribs. He awoke on the cold mosaic floor, feeling slightly more powerful than before he closed his purple eyes.
His fingers grazed the skin where his heart lay beating, still. "This seal on my heart…"
"All shinobi warriors deemed worthy by their liege lords earn such a badge of honour, Temūjin," Genji explained. "You have proved yourself at such a young age. How could I not? Among the shinobi in the Kurogane clan, you are the strongest – and are well on your way to succeeding me as patriarch."
Temūjin jolted. "I am not of your own blood -,"
"I've chosen you." Genji made it clear. "That is your destiny. And now that you bear this seal, you make walk among us above ground. No longer will you be imprisoned in the dark, I promise you. All I ask is that you fall under my wing."
Temūjin bowed, his palms clapping the stone. "I live to serve you, master. My destiny lies with you…"
And Genji was at last satisfied.
The young wolf was his – and willing.
Temūjin awoke feeling no different than before.
Rolling his shoulder, he strode from the chamber to find Genji waiting in the shadows. Although grateful for taking him under his wing, Temūjin grew annoyed with the lord's company. He was constantly overburdened with tasks of hunting, spying, and dealing with diplomatic ties. For once, he wanted to be left alone in his solitude. He glared at his presence. "What now?"
Genji paid no mind to his tone. "I need you to go on the hunt again,"
"The prey?"
"The half-breed," Genji sneered, anticipating his reaction. "The time has come. Kill her before she discovers our plan… The she-wolf must be stopped above all else. She is the only one capable of standing in our way. And after she is taken care of, you can capture her pups and bring them to me. Of course, you'll find yourself dealing with the Kazekage. So, I suggest you deal with him next…"
Temūjin stood wide-eyed on the floor, his chest heaving.
His heart beat like a stone in his ribs, the seal churning and aching. He caught his thoughts second-guessing the command, his mind racing to the memories of the she-wolf weeping and pleading for him to relent. He knew she was his sister by blood, but he did not know her. She was just a woman – a woman Tenbu sought to destroy. But her grieving face struck something within his psyche, evoking a strange sadness in himself. But to kill her? The very words Genji uttered caused his mind to falter, his heart to ache, and his voice to quiet.
Something told him he could not do it.
That he should not do it.
But what it was, he could not say.
"Hm?" Genji sighed. "No answer? Unusual for you, Temūjin."
"She will be taken care of," Temūjin affirmed, glaring at his master. "I'll see to that…"
Genji nodded. "Good," He turned on his heel, starting down the darkened corridor. "Bring me her pelt if you're able. Beasts are… hard to slay."
Anger erupted in his chest, and Temūjin strode in the opposite direction.
His blood boiled and simmered under his clenched fists. Why, He thought, Why couldn't I kill her? Did I turn soft? Why couldn't I… - he remembered her face. The distress, the anger, the grief – and the compassion. Something in his heart pulsed, shattered. The seal… Something she said caused it to burn. Why? Anger took hold, his eyes snapping open with the urge to spill blood. She is weak… and she is a woman. My sister… the failure. She must die.
The dungeons were as dark as he last left them when he threw their last prisoner inside. As he approached, Matsuri fell back, shuddering. "W-What do you want with me?"
"I have a task for you," Temūjin said, his tone even. "Should you complete it, I will grant you your freedom and return you to your village. But you must come with me… if you want to live."
Matsuri shivered in her ragged blankets, nodding slowly.