Long, long, long time, no see! NeoShadows back from the ever-tiring and glamourous restaurant life.
Funny to think back to my first day; only cleaned tables, did back prep, and washed dishes. And now, ten years later, I've been working my as off as a manager for almost an entire year.
Ahhhh, someone kill me. Better yet, get me a case of cold beer.
I got some explaining to do, but we can do this at the bottom.
Let's just get to scrolling already!
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to A Certain Magical Index or Naruto. All rights are reserved to their respective creators, Kazuma Kamachi and Masashi Kishimoto.
Chapter 9: Those No Longer Present To Your Tears.
Unworthy_Champion.
The light of the moon above was the only thing helping Zori stumble along the empty village street. His vision swam, and a strong sense of vertigo was disorienting him with every step. If you were to find him wandering the street, you would notice how his face was swollen, colored with dried blood, and littered with various tears on his jacket and pants. Odd colored burns marred his exposed skin and a hint of metal was found on his red-stained shoulder. One could say it was a miracle he had made it this far without a clear idea of where he was heading.
Anywhere was better than what remained of Sector-D. The aftermath of the havoc sparked by an ordinary boy was reminiscent of a hurricane's wicked gales tearing the world asunder. Faintly, he swore he recalled…
Bizarre colors flit by his broken memory as the compound was ravaged from the inside by a chorus of chaotic, sinister, wild, roars that shattered the atmosphere itself.
A trash heap would be welcomed after crawling out of such a hellhole.
Zori had lost his final gamble against an inexperienced player. He had placed all his cards on the table to deliver his winning gambit that should have cleared the table of any chances of losing. Up against a regular civilian who had stupidly rejected the offer to join the winning party that would ensure a life of luxury for however long Gato remained at large, Zori had been knocked out of the winning party by an ordinary fist. It was frustrating, maddening, infuriating, to realize he was back to zero with nothing but whatever Ryo he had on him.
There was no returning to Gato now.
Zori had failed to stop the prisoners known as Kamijou Touma and Kyofu from escaping. It hadn't just been two but everyone who had been imprisoned in Sector-D had escaped with the help of Konoha ninja raiding their base. Everyone had failed to protect his asset from being stolen back by the village. To return to that infuriated businessman would be to accept either a hefty punishment involving losing a limb or be deemed worthless.
What Gato considered as worthless had no use to him. That which was of no use to him was destroyed and tossed into the trash.
Once again, Zori found himself in the streets without much to his name other than his katana.
He was as aimless as he had been as a child.
A waste of potential.
'You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be.'
Two separate voices kindly spoke to Zori from his waning consciousness. One from the man who had marked the departure of any kind or just path as his blood tainted his cold blade. The second was from a boy who had knocked Zori out of that set path of luxuries paid with the blood of the innocent. At his lowest, those two heroic idiots spoke to this failure of a samurai and gambler as he struggled to keep moving forward to a destine-less path.
Zori was a cold-blooded killer, one who had unsheathed his proud steel's edge to cut down whoever paid him the right price to kill. There was no kindness in his heart. He wondered if he ever had any to begin with. A samurai was honorable, just, stern, loyal, but not kind. They were as cold as the steel that they lugged with them to the service of their lord or country.
Of all the things Zori had been taught in the twenty years he had been alive, had he ever been taught such a simple thing as kindness?
An old, faded, lost memory came back to the forefront of Zori's mind as his legs gave out in the middle of the road. Of one final game with a dead man who had sealed Zori's fate as a killer.
A man named Kaiza smiled at him in his memory, sitting back with a face horribly beaten, teeth broken, and blood seeping from his busted lip in the very cell a certain spiky-haired boy had stayed. Just like Touma, Zori had played a game with the hero of Nami no Kuni as he awaited his execution with a bottle of sake between the two as Gato made his preparations.
'You know, you don't seem as bad as you make yourself out to be, Zori-san. I can't think of anyone who takes the time to ease my final moments in this world with sake and a friendly game as completely evil or cruel. You kinda remind me of my kid, Inari-kun, who always likes to play games when he's either bored or wants to find something to distract him. You must have had a lonely past to find yourself here, left with no other options than to accept whatever Gato asks of you for Ryo. Don't worry.'
The ghost of a fallen champion grinned at him, his voice holding no hostility, no hatred, no rage as he accepted the boy who would be his executioner.
'You're not to blame. A sword owned by a monster is innocent, especially when that very deathly tool has the slightest gleam of regret in his steel.'
Zori had been taught kindness. Kindness in forgiveness. And what had he done?
Zori had reaped that kindness for his own survival and luxury.
Collapsed on the ground of the dirt street, Zori heard footsteps draw closer to him. Probably a villager who lived close by and heard some commotion. He smiled bitterly as they approached.
Well, in some odd way, it was better to die to some random stranger Zori had threatened and hurt as Gato's blade than by Gato himself. In some way, he would be repaying a debt he now owed.
Death was all that awaited him. What else could this failure of a sword do? There was no longer a desire to swing his blade, no longer a taste for sake, no longer a need for Ryo, no longer want to draw another card.
Whatever happened to Zori next, he would accept. As a man who never offered kindness of any sort, he expected none in return as he lost sight of the world and his vision grew dark.
[-]
Kamijou Touma dreamed.
He dreamed a chaotic and destructive dream.
In this...this numb dream where nearly all his senses had gone mute, he briefly recalled his heavy eyes struggling to open. He couldn't remember ever taking a step. Was he breathing? Was he even alive? It felt like he was drifting through thick tar.
So much blood had been lost. He felt a bone-chilling iciness from the tip of his fingers.
The prison compound he had been attempting to break out of…
A chorus of sinister roars drowned the world of any semblance other than their presence. He made out strange hues of red, blue, pink, green, orange, and yellow. Toxic pigments he would have never discovered from outside even the deep and primordial depths of the Amazon rainforest. In his dream, those colors blotted out the scenery. Destruction whirled all around him like whips of thick rubber, twirling and lashing at the world itself.
And rampaged.
Halls were torn apart like wet paper towels. Rooms had collapsed from the sheer sound. Metal was crunched beneath ravenous jaws. Fire raged as if spewed from the cracked maw of hell itself. All manner of terrible destructive noise was made by idiots who trampled over the very world like titans skipping through a human village without any thought or care.
He couldn't make out the careless demolishing. From his perspective, it felt as if he was somehow at the center of the whirlwind of chaos.
The chaos struck with devastating force. The ferocity of the destructive whips felt excited. As if this alien violence was enjoying its freedom from whatever prison it had been stuffed into. When it roared it was ecstatic. Thrilled. Unbound and giddy to like a child left home alone to do whatever they desired without any punishment.
Fractures split the world's surroundings. Cries of fear, terror, despair and horror matched those unbound roars trampling over everything in sight. People were hurt. Even the demons who wielded cleavers, knives, bats, and spears to rend flesh and terrorize the cowering prisoners to their hearts' content, found themselves scrambling like frightening brats at the sight of a monster and ran for their lives.
Burning red-orange colored everything as flames devoured the prison compound in carpets of fire.
Touma stared listlessly at the scorching ruin and bellows of violence. Blank orbs of compassionate blue had hollowed into an abyss where nothing could be seen.
His body had lost all connection to his brain. Nerves were silent. A blank fog clouded his mind as he dreamed of watching broken fragments of destruction raze the world and go as far as even threatening lives.
Copious amounts of malice swam out of the gored flesh of his right hand and dragged him around like a beaten stuffed doll. Something sinister broke free from his body like a parasite that had finished feeding off his nutrients and blood.
He knew whatever It was, it wasn't kind. It wasn't forgiving. And it did not desire to save anyone.
An incredibly thin and flat line sliced the spiky's boy's filthy face.
Tired...he was so tired.
Of running.
Of thinking.
Of standing.
Of speaking.
Of fighting.
He was exhausted from struggling to reject the churning pressure flowing from the recesses of his beaten body. What was the point?
After all…
Alone.
Kamijou Touma was alone. He had no one to lead him back with an innocent warmth to color his world in kindness. He had no one who could understand his actions to the point of returning him from the verge of crumbling to a savage beast. It was as if what color he had found so long ago to give him meaning had been drained. Once again, he found himself colorless and hollow.
A heart lost in the hurricane of destruction cracked.
But-
A sound was heard.
Faint and soft. Fragile and quiet. Lost within in the rampage of violence wielded by behemoths, a low vibration was caught as the compound began to collapse to shambles. Like an egg, the entire structure was cracking wide open so that the strange hurricane could break free upon its birth.
'...Help me…'
In the dream, in the chaotic, violent, sinister, terribly loud, and wild dream, Kamijou Touma had found two words slip through the deafening roars. As he numbly floated from within the rancor of roaring malice, a sweet reel pulled at his chest.
And he felt his cracked heart thump strongly.
Once again, something was shattered.
And the hurricane's terrible winds fell silent to a new set of fangs and claws birthed at the sliver of despair.
[-]
When Touma awoke from the strange dream, he was speechless.
For a good few minutes, he couldn't help but blankly stare up at the ceiling above his head. He felt completely mesmerized to be seeing anything, to be breathing at all, or to feel anything resembling fatigue and pain.
He should have been dead.
He should not have any feeling left in his cold dead fingers. All his nerves should have been unresponsive and not given off even a twitch as his brain went silent due to oxygen starvation. His heart would be dried of all its blood and be just a hunk of gooey meat. He'd even heard stories of a corpse's muscles seizing up and stiffening the body like a piece of hardwood.
His injuries were severe. Fatal. Gallons of blood had been lost. Metal pierced into his body to tickle a vital organ. Without Heaven Canceler's expertise in technology and medicine, no ordinary doctor would be able to pull Touma out of the golden gates of heaven.
Warm sheets.
What he felt as he stirred awake was undeniably a warm fuzzy heat created by soft bed sheets. Even without opening his eyes, he knew someone had tucked him into bed with care. Chilling dread was devoured by this sweet warmth embracing him with a pleasant hum.
To feel such homely warmth meant one thing.
Kamijou Touma was alive.
For a moment, he had forgotten everything when his eyes sluggishly opened and blankly starred at the cieling.
He had forgotten about being exiled to a new world where supernatural ninjas could be found as an everyday spectacle. He had forgotten about fighting a demon swordsman who fought in the mist with a massive butcher blade. He had forgotten about agreeing to aid a small team of ninjas to protect a bridge builder from a corrupt billionaire. And he had forgotten about those final moments where he had saved a heroic villager from bandits, fought a pirate-themed ronin, was captured and taken to a prison compound, met a naked dark-colored kunoichi, freed the heroic villagers family along with the rest of the prisoners, before leading said prisoners to escape and fight a ronin thug who tried to pretend he was a demon.
It was all forgotten for something comforting and familiar.
"Touma!"
"Human."
In that rattled mind, he heard voices. An innocent and naive voice called out his name impatiently with the desire to be fed until she couldn't eat anymore. And a stern yet soft voice called his name knowingly with a small smile on their face. Those two important girls sat next to the spiky-haired boy's bedside, calling out to him to get off his lazy ass and start the day as they always would. So that they could leave this boring place of mending and have fun again. To play the day away until the sun set.
Such a warm and lovely scene was seen in his sleepy vision as he sluggishly opened his eyes.
Only for the illusion to fall apart with the sensation of excruciating pain felt all over his body.
Touma grit his teeth as he awoke to pain.
Pain from the lonely presence in his soft heart.
"Damn it."
Warm tears gathered at the edge of his burning eyes as he stared up at the ceiling.
So, it really hadn't been a dream after all. Of course, it wasn't. The rush of memories from the past few days was far too detailed and sound to have been a figment of an idiot who was cursed with misfortune. Every ache, every sore, every burning muscle, and every tear swimming down his face was proof that he hadn't been trapped in a vivid dream. For whatever reason, his own brain had played a cruel trick on him.
For a brief moment, he had truly believed he had awoken back home. Back in that over-familiar hospital bed. Sleeping with Index and Othinus sitting right beside him after overcoming another incident he had never desired to partaking.
Unlike those first few days in the land of Elemental Nations, Touma hadn't woken up to such a memory. In fact, he had never allowed his circumstances to get him down. He was never depressed over the fact he was alone in a world he did not belong to. He had never cried at the thought of never seeing Index, Othinus, Sphinx, Komoe, Tsuchimikado, Aogami, Fukiyose, Himegami, Mikoto, or any of his friends or family ever again. The thought he was forever stuck in a new world with no possible inkling as to how to return had never tripped his mind.
Because every time such a moment of weakness threatened to strike, he would reject it.
By busying himself with speaking with Tsunami, helping Tazuna, and interacting with Team-7 whenever he could, Touma would ignore such thoughts from plaguing his weak heart.
Until now.
When he had stumbled into that den of demons, the thick malice had sunk its fangs deep into his vulnerable heart. And those fangs had leaked a bitterly missed familiarity at his most exhausted state. Loving poison was injected. A vision of that hard-fought place surrounded by people he loved was no more than a figment of his imagination.
He was tired, incredibly tired. He felt like pulling his legs up to his chest and sobbing.
So, why was it that he couldn't find the strength to do so?
Tears briefly slipped down his face but he found himself sitting up(although struggling to do so). He sniffed those salty remnants away, drying his eyes with his right forearm as he swallowed what felt like thick rubber lodged in his throat. He noted multiple thin tubes with odd-colored medicine(?) injected into his left wrist, the limb stiff and throbbing as his senses began to return slowly. A quick inspection of his body revealed bandages and gauze over every inch of his body with only the occasional peek of skin. When he cautiously felt his side where a jagged blade shard was jabbed into, he grimaced with a sharp hiss as he felt thick tape protecting the packed open wound. A powerful scent of antibacterial medicine could be caught in the room.
Defying the odds once again, he had survived. Somehow, without Heaven Canceler's expertise, he had escaped the clutches of death's eager fingers. That alone was cause enough for him to not crumble in grief.
The dead could not despair nor could they cry. Only the living could feel such pain.
It was with a shaky breath that Touma came to terms with the loneliness nestled in his aching chest.
Crying wouldn't ease that crushing agony. Tears wouldn't mend his wounds. Those empty thoughts of hopelessness and despair would only serve to remind him of those infinite hells he had been subjected to. As much as he simply desired to let it all out...he couldn't.
Kamijou Touma was not the kind of person to be broken so easily. The borrowed heart he had been gifted thumped strongly in his aching chest, encouraging him to pull through and remain strong.
It wasn't easy but he dried the last of his tears so he could finally see clearly.
"Where am I?"
Not within the dirty prison compound of Sector-D, obviously. What he found as he turned his head here and there was a cozy room with a wooden interior. He sat up on a bed large enough for two but only had a single pillow with pale blue bed sheets that must have been hand knit. He spotted a dresser drawer with miscellaneous items, a bin for clothes, a corner full of sewing equipment, pictures and anything else one would expect to find in a room. This was an adult woman's room.
Touma felt like he had a good idea whose it was. A nightstand was placed close by with a picture frame of a familiar face and their family, immediately giving away as to whose room he was placed in.
The picture was of Tsunami. The single mother of the cynical boy Inari, and the sake-loving architect Tazuna. From the looks of it, it was a picture of a time before Gato's Company had wormed itself into their land and stolen everything from them. Inari was younger, smiling brightly as a child his age should. Both Tsunami and Tazuna appeared a few years younger, and full of far more life and hope than they did now. It was a family photo of a far funner time full of laughs and sweet smiles.
There was something odd about the photo.
Touma could clearly make out a grown man embracing the small family in a bear hug. This was an addition to the family who had given up on heroes. But for whatever reason…
The unknown man's face was torn off.
As if someone had tried to erase them from that forgotten time where only happiness had been found.
Touma frowned at the detail but decided not to dwell on it any further. Without anyone telling him a thing, he knew that it wasn't his place to pry into. Not when he still lacked the full story.
"Still, it's weird how I'm even alive right now. Didn't I lose a crazy amount of blood? Or...was there something more going on?"
Bit by bit, he was collecting the broken fragments of his memory concerning his final moments in the aftermath of his brawl with Gato's personal guard, Zori. His eyes wandered to his right hand, free of any damage or scars even after it had been gored by a samurai blade.
A sudden ache on Touma's left shoulder made him draw a sharp breath. Funny how he had completely forgotten about the gouge Waraji had left behind when he was more concerned with the katana shard jabbed into his side. A heavy patch of gauze now covered it up alongside more on his side, both thicker than the bandages rolled over his upper body and forehead. The scent of murky ointment made him grimace, the cream smoothed over the parts of his body burned by activated acidic cement mix. The only part of his body not covered in bandages was his right arm.
When he ran his eyes over the right hand, from fingertip to his bare shoulder, he couldn't find a hint of any injuries. It was almost raw. As if it was a completely different appendage than the one he had lost in his clash with Kamisato. The very lack of any pain or any discomfort from the perfectly normal limb terrified him.
Imagine Breaker was planted in that very limb. Heaven Canceler had once regarded Touma's right arm as a piece of fantasy due to how it easily sewed itself back to his shoulder, nerves, muscles, veins, and bone in all without complications. This wasn't the first time that his right arm remained unscathed after a fight. There had been many times in the past that his right arm literally popped itself back to his shoulder, not the slightest scratch after being severed, crushed, and erased. Each time it had, something terrifying had escaped.
An Invisible Thing.
The Head of a Dragon King.
An Army of Dragons.
The very reason Touma was lost in this new world was due to that horrifying presence, or things, Imagine Breaker held at bay. Because he had failed to match fists with a normal high schoolboy like himself, those monstrosities had been released to thrash about, attacking everything indiscriminately without a care in its desire to decimate all it laid its eyes on. And because Touma had failed to reign those dragons back with his own power, he had been forced to save everyone through a compromise that involved exiling himself from their world.
It had happened again. First when Touma had been overcome with resentment at Waraji's lack of concern with life that he happily butchered for genuine happiness. An invisible fissure cracked along his right fist that had been engulfed with the strong desire to ensure that such a shitty human being never got up again. When he had been imprisoned in a filthy cell, surrounded by humans who were being tormented by despicable demons, he had felt the pressure threatening to burst and slaughter everything in sight.
A faint, distorted, and fuzzy memory told Touma of a second instance It had drawn breath in the world. For the briefest moment, he felt as if his right arm had been broken to pieces and an even stranger presence had been spilled out. It was almost as if it had washed over him and caressed him. It had been so brief, that he couldn't tell if he had just been seeing things. He caught brief flashes of weird psychedelic colors thrashing about like the long necks of a hydra.
'Help me.'
Had...had someone been calling for help during that time? Was that why he had somehow gained the clarity and strength to shove those idiotic beasts back inside their cage? What exactly happened when he was on the very edge of bleeding out?
"Imagine Breaker is one thing but what else am I holding? Just what the hell is locked inside of me?" Touma scowled in deep confusion.
He'd never bothered to ask before. He'd never wanted to know.
Touma had always been far too focused on returning to his normal everyday life to care. He was content on simply being another high schoolboy rather than anything else he may have become upon digging into matters of his right hand. Imagine Breaker itself was one thing. It was a troublemaker bent on drawing in disaster. But it was a power that could overturn even the greatest tragedy so long as he clenched his fist for what be believed was right.
But It was different. He wasn't even sure those strange behemoths could be classified as a power or an ability. They were more akin to separate entities who existed apart from him and held no ties to him other than their titles as prisoners. Otherworldly and wild. Things that at times weren't even sure of what they were themselves.
He'd always feared that if he ever discovered what lay behind the seemingly average hand, he would never be able to return to that cherished everyday norm again.
But...
By not knowing what his right arm held at bay with Imagine Breaker, had he been the one at fault for being separated from his friends and family? Because he didn't realize the true dangers of those collections of draconic lovecraftian nightmares, wasn't he to blame for failing to hold them back? Ignorance was bliss but it was also dangerous.
Touma stared at his right hand, glaring past the physical container to what slumbered beneath in a ticking time bomb.
"Just...what are you?"
No response. Typical. Could those armies of destructive idiots even hear or speak?
There wasn't any point in unraveling the mysteries of his right hand now. He wasn't sure he would be figuring out the great mystery in this world. Right now he was supposed to be taking it easy after the day he had. Poking his right hand wouldn't be doing him any good and only earn him strange looks.
So Touma sat back, sleep now nothing more than an afterthought as his body lightly ached. It would have been better if he went back to sleep but no matter how many times he shut his eyes, sleep didn't come. He wanted nothing more than to get out of bed and see how everyone was doing but his body put its foot down as he cringed from the strain on his sore muscles. If Heaven Canceler had treated Touma, he was sure that he could bear the pain, thanks to the advanced medical technology and medicine Academy City was famous for.
Being alive was a miracle; an honest to god miracle not even Imagine Breaker had nullified. To think this worlds current medical practices, technology, and medicine had been enough to stave off the grim reaper's scythe.
He couldn't help but wonder how he had survived with his injuries. And like a stone at the top of a tall and narrow hill, one question rolled down into a cascade of others.
Were the people who had been imprisoned by Gato for his own greedy means safe? Had they been returned to their families? Was anyone hurt? What happened to Kyofu? Did she fulfill the end of her promise? Or did she run away now that the villagers were being led by Uzumaki-san? What happened with Hatake-san, Haruno-san, Uchiha-san, and Uzumaki-san? Was everyone safe? In fact, whatever happened to Gato's public execution starring Kamijou Touma? Was Touma still awaiting his death sentence? And where had that faint 'help me' come from when those ill-mannered monsters went on a rampage?
Distracted by the various aches popping up every few seconds and questions, Touma failed to notice the door to his temporary room crack open. An onyx eye peeked in that grew wide with surprise before growing indifferent at the now awake teenager. Gently, they shut the door and they left with a spiteful scoff.
[-]
It wasn't fair.
"Inari-kun? Did you go check up on Kamijou-kun as I asked? Is he still asleep?"
It just wasn't fair.
Inari ground his teeth and ignored his mother's concerned words as he headed for the front door. He heard his mother ask him again about the condition of the idiot upstairs sleeping in her bed, his small hand weakly attempting to crush the door handle before twisting the knob and shutting the door behind him.
He couldn't take it anymore, he needed fresh air.
The eight-year old boy left the cramped house with a resentful scowl on his youthful face, carefully walking the same old familiar path to his favorite spot untouched by Gato's influence.
Ever since his grandfather had come back from Konohagakure no Sato with shinobi in tow, Inari couldn't stand staying under the same roof with the so-called heroes. Just who did they think they were? Did they honestly believe they were the first people to go against Gato? There had been plenty of Nami no Kuni citizens who had stood up against that pompous billionaires' control.
And they all paid the price with their lives or gave up.
Inari had warned them, he tried to steer them clear of what their little mission would lead them to; death.
But they didn't listen.
Inari was just a child, they thought.
A boy who had lost hope of being saved.
A childish brat.
Well, they were right. He didn't believe in hope. Nami no Kuni was doomed to rot away like a corpse. Gato couldn't be stopped. His grandfather should have known better, Inari's mother did, but his grandfather wouldn't quit like everyone else had smartly done. Instead, Tazuna-jiji fought to complete the bridge that the old man believed would help them break free of Gato's control and reignite the spirits of their nation to stand up again.
Tazuna-jiji honestly believed that they would be saved by a bridge of all things. That everything would return to normal once they could connect their nation to the mainland to take back their rightful trading routes for themselves. Instead of relying on the sea for trade, they would utilize the bridge to ship their commerce through caravans, traders, and visiting merchants to regain their prosperity to its old glory.
What a joke.
Did anyone really expect Gato to just throw in the towel once the bridge was complete? Even if Gato somehow failed to stop the iron behemoth's construction, he would just hire more and more men to take it down. This was more than a cynical view, it was a fact. As the grandson of an architect even young Inari knew that if it can be built, it can be just as quickly destroyed.
At the peak of their reborn hope, it would all be maliciously brought down harder than before.
That was why Inari's grandfather should have quit. Tazuna should have taken his daughter and his grandson and left Nami no Kuni to sink on its own. They no longer had any obligation to stay and fight. The nation of waves knew no heroes. Every last one of them was either buried in the dirt or had their remains sunk to the cold, unforgiving waters.
Instead, Tazuna had risked his own life in sneaking out of Nami no Kuni to seek help from a shinobi village to guard his life as he came close to finishing the bridge. He had hired 'heroes' who believed that just because they knew a few magic ninja tricks, they could take on an entire criminal organization by themselves and be hailed as heroes.
What a bunch of morons. Especially that loudmouth orange-obsessed idiot who believed playing hero was all fun and games. Out of all of them, Inari resented him the most.
...
No.
Second only to him.
Kamijou Touma.
Two shadows flickered over the other, overlapping to take over the other's identity until only one remained.
Unlike the ninjas who were trained to fight and die, the older boy was just an ordinary human without any special skills. Touma was a random civilian who stupidly believed he could fight alongside ninja who were doomed to die because it was the right thing to do. A generic nobody you could find anywhere else. An idiot who acted heroically yet never acknowledged the feats he had performed as anything more than ordinary.
The right thing to do? Fighting with your all? If it means so much to you?
Inari scoffed as he thought back to the same like-minded people who rebelled against Gato because it was the right thing to do and were now rotting away in some ditch.
The right thing to do was run away and save yourself, not stand and fight a losing fight to die a liar.
'If it's precious to you, why not fight with all your strength to protect it?'
Two voices overlapped another. One of a man who had lied to Inari about those hollow, empty-worded heroes and left their family to misery, and the other of a normal boy twice Inari's age who decided to fight because he wanted to.
A bitter tear escaped Inari's dark eyes.
It wasn't fair.
Both Kaiza and KamijouTouma had said those exact same words. Each one had gone on to face Gato's men when someone was in trouble. Both had fought without weapons, ninjutsu, or combat experience. Nothing about them was remotely special or unique.
But only one of them had come back alive.
It wasn't fair.
Finally reaching his destination, Inari sat on the edge of a certain bridge that held a very special place in his heart. It was here that he had met his hero, his father, in the blue waves one sunny day two years ago. Now it only served as a monument of sorts where he frequently escaped the shitty world that had led him on with the belief of heroes.
Inari glared hatefully at the gentle lush waves, hot tears running down his face as he thought back to the spiky-haired boy who rested in his mother's bed where someone much deserving should have been.
A terrible and malicious thought was spoken aloud from the mouth of an innocent child.
"It's not fair...why did you get to live?"
[-]
Tsunami sighed as she made her way upstairs to where her house guest was currently resting. In her hands was a plate of leftover stew from last night that Touma had missed out on due to his condition. She wasn't sure if he was awake yet but she wanted to be prepared just in case.
After all, said boy had proven to be far from ordinary and had woken up after confronting The Demon of The Mist.
She had sent Inari to check up on him earlier but her son had come down without a word, ignoring her as he left to brood. His silence was his answer.
"I just don't know what I'm going to do with him." Tsunami lamented with a heavy heart.
Currently, Tsunami was the only one home right now.
Her father was back to work on the bridge, guarded in the good hands of Hatake Kakashi and Haruno Sakura while Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke were preoccupying their free time with their ninja training. Something involving tree climbing without using their arms?
The mysterious Kumogakure kunoichi that had arrived with them yesterday was nowhere to be found, having gone off by herself to take care of some unfinished business. Kyofu had thanked Tsunami for her first hot meal in the past week before running of into the dead of night after spending only a day underneath their roof.
Between the two women, a few more words were exchanged, concerning the spiky boy who hadn't so much as twitched after his condition had been stabled by the Gaze-san. A promise was made that didn't need to be repeated.
And the retired grump of a retired doctor who had taken care of Touma's injuries the first time, joined with a retired nurse named Anmi and her daughters, had also left after arriving for an early morning check-up of their patient, shortly after.
Oh, and there was also their new house guest too, who had been taken by Hatake Kakashi as they returned to watching out for her father. If said guest had been left back, they would have continued to sneak into the resting boy's room like some faithful dog scratching furiously at the door of their owner.
While everyone else was busy with their own matters, Tsunami was left to once again watch over the bedridden boy as he recovered from his latest fight. Tsunami's face grew solemn at the memory of how the teenage boy had been brought back. A foul rusty scent still lingered as she recalled the state he was in.
Kamijou Touma had been brutally, savagely, beaten by Gato's men to the point he had been found hanging onto his life by a thread.
He had been imprisoned in a filthy cell after fighting several thugs, insulted Gato and spat in his face, and was scheduled to be executed in public. Bruises marred nearly every inch of the spiky teen's skin, blood-soaked the shirt Tsunami had lent him, his face was swollen with his forehead suffering a gash, chemical burns seethed an angry red on his hands and face, and he had been stabbed twice and suffered numerous cuts by a sharp blade. Blood loss alone, he should have been dead.
Somehow, by some miracle wiggling through the cracks of the hell they had ventured in, the boy had been rescued. His life had been saved before he had bled out completely.
Just the memory of all the dirt and blood caked on Touma's battered body made her choke back tears. She had thought the thing in Hatake Kakashi's arms had been a corpse.
She couldn't help but think back to another man who had been so brutally beaten in front of her eyes.
If Touma had been missing both his arms as well, Tsunami would have mistaken him for Kaiza's corpse.
Touma was alive though. And he had done the unthinkable.
In one day, the spiky-haired teen had brought down one of Gato's bases to its knees. What had begun with Touma fighting off the thugs hired by the billionaire to beat civilians to a bloody pulp, had somehow evolved to him freeing all the imprisoned people that were taken away from their families over several weeks; possibly even months. Sector-D, the part of the village that held back the flooding water during heavy storms and had been taken over as a base, had been freed. Gato's men had been taken out and what forces remained had run back to their employer. All of the mercenaries who had been making their life a living hell for two years were gone, leaving to regroup after most of their men had been lost in a raid of one Jonin, three Genin, and one ordinary civilian boy. Those who had remained in the village had been run out by a growing group of fed-up villagers who had been inspired by the fires raging over Gato's base.
The mercenaries Gato had stationed in the village were left in shambles. While he still had plenty of bases scattered throughout the small islands that made up Nami no Kuni, he had lost one in a matter of hours that served as a knife to be always held at their throat via the main village.
Such a loss was all because one teenager had recklessly charged to fight an unwinnable battle. It was the first real step to the end of Gato's reign, one reverberating among the hearts of all Nami no Kuni's citizens as people they believed to have died, been sold off, had returned to them in tears and shaken smiles. What was loss had been found. The great despair constantly wringing at their hearts lessened considerably.
By no means were their lives returning to normal. The dead couldn't be brought back to life. There still remained those loved ones who had been sold and shipped off into servitude by Gato for Ryo. Nothing would go back to those wistful years before the billionaire sunk his claws into their lives. Even now they continued to suffer beneath his rule. At any moment those devilish demons could return to continue the nightmare upon their homes.
But for the first time, in a long time, a foreign and forgotten emotion had risen in their hollowed chests.
A strange, lost, emotion had been sparked in the majority of the jaded hearts of the village.
Hope.
All because a boy, someone not even part of their village who had no right to share in their misery, had clenched his fist and fought in their stead against the unhappy illusion they accepted.
Undoubtedly a crack in that twisted illusion had been made.
Said boy was now safely resting his weary and damaged body in her home. After everything he had done in the name of complete strangers, he was very much deserving of sleeping however much he wished in the comfort of her own bed. With how weak his body was, she couldn't very well let him sleep in a flimsy futon on the hardwood floor. So, she had the ninjas carry his sleeping body into her room where he would remain instead of a flat futon that was ill-suited for someone so heavily wounded. And as she had decided upon herself to care for him, she had continued to sleep in her room to better nurse the boy.
A-After all, someone had to watch over him just in case he was in need of anything if he woke up in the middle of the night. It wasn't as if she was even sleeping in the same bed either since she took the futon Touma had originally slept in. She simply slept next to the bed is all.
Tsunami ignored the heat coloring her cheeks as she stood in front of her room where Touma was recuperating. She gave the wooden frame a few knocks to see if her patient was awake or still asleep.
No response.
She hung her head.
She chuckled mirthfully at the preposterous thought of such a heavily damaged teen awakening after hours of intensive surgery. Gaze-san had explained to them all of the extent of his injuries, the effect his body would suffer due to a major loss of blood, and the exhaustion and various drugs pumping into his body that would leave him knocked out for possibly a week.
With stern confidence, the old retired surgeon said the troublesome delinquent would not wake as quickly as he did when they had first met. Fact was fact. To think otherwise would be-
"Come in."
A pause.
Behind the door to her room, a familiar voice had spoken in response to her knock. It was rough and exhausted but it was well enough to speak.
Surely if Gaze and Anmi had been beside her, both medical experts would have fainted.
Tsunami's breath hitched as she opened the door gently. A curtain of light beamed into the room from the open window where the bedside boy sat up. Bandages and gauze were plastered all over him as if he was a poorly wrapped gift. Thanks to Anmi who had dug through her old supplies from her time as a nurse, the foreign boy had been given a modest baby blue hospital gown.
She nearly dropped the bowl of stew as she stared at the boy who should have been sleeping for days but had awoken after only two days.
"Oh, good morning, Tsunami-san." Touma greeted her normally as if he hadn't just woken up after having nearly died a day ago.
Tsunami giggled softly as she stepped in and closed the door behind her, "It's actually good afternoon, Kamijou-kun. And what did I say about the honorifics?"
Touma rubbed the back of his head out of habit, wincing as Tsunami set the bowl of stew on the nightstand close by the head of the bed.
"Right, sorry Tsunami." Touma smiled weakly before blinking in surprise, "Wait, afternoon?! I thought it was morning!"
"Kamijou-kun? Just how long did you think you would vb asleep after nearly dying? A few hours?" Tsunami crossed her arms over her chest with a stern stare, "By the time Hatake-san and his team brought you back home alongside Anmi-san, her daughters, and Kyofu-san, the sun had gone down and dinner was growing cold. You've been out ever since. You haven't so much as stirred once after Gaze-san and Anmi-san finished treating your injuries a two days ago."
"So, I've been asleep for two days? Can't remember the last time I've had that much rest outside of a hospital room. Though I guess this is no different since I still had a doctor sewing me up in the end. I'm actually surprised that they had the supplies and technology to keep me alive."
An uncomfortable pressure formed in Tsunami's chest.
Kamijou Touma's tone was...too casual for someone who had survived a traumatic experience.
Tsunami swallowed a rough emotion in her throat as she spoke with the unaffected boy.
"How are you doing, Kamijou-san?
A normal person should have been in shock after their last memory consisted of passing out in a pool of their own blood, not chatting normally with two deep holes in his body. After what the young man had been through, Tsunami should have been comforting him through the horrifying experience.
He had faced human monsters that gleefully butchered others for nothing more than coin and blood lust. He had been stabbed, sliced, bludgeoned, beaten, and nearly broken. He was going to be killed, slaughtered like a hung pig. He had seen the worst the human mind could fantasy about when they abandoned morality. Selfish, foul, vile, disturbing, and depraved nightmares had gleefully bared down upon him with all their crushing might.
Hadn't he cried? Hadn't he begged to be saved? When he was subjected to all manner of pain and seen his body leaking a profuse amount of red, hadn't he tried to run away? Surely, he must have been terrified to the point his body was shaking and his voice hoarse from guttural cries.
A normal boy would have been in comatose, completely still in shock, and on the verge of a mental breakdown. His eyes would have grown dim and cold. A part of himself would have been devoured by the sticky black tar of a devil's greed.
Yet Kamijou Touma didn't so much as blink at the mention of his horrible experience with Gato's Company. He had collapsed in the ruins of a miniature hell with a shard of a vile blade in his abdomen.
Tsunami bit her bottom lip to hold the words back.
Why aren't you crying?
Touma blinked simply, ignorant to the turmoil simmering in her aching heart as his right hand wandered to the heavily patched wound where a razor hook-edged shard had previously threatened his life.
"Better than when I was last awake for sure. Everything aches, I really want to scratch at my bandages, my throat is dry and hot, and I kinda feel woozy. But other than that, I'm alright."
He smiled far too simply than he should be able.
Teeth threatened to pierce soft pink flesh of her lip.
Tsunami had cried. She had wept. A memory of long ago flashed before her eyes when she had seen the back of a boy disappear to confront horned oni. She remembered how numb her hand had gone when she had failed to grasp his hand. Shame overwhelmed her when her quivering legs refused to listen to her demands to stand up.
To run after the young man's shadow. To steal him back from the talon clutches of cackling demons before he lost his lift.
She was no hero. She wasn't talented. She couldn't protect anyone. Instead of summoning the courage to rescue the kind boy herself, she had begged and pleaded for others to do what she could not.
Yet the boy she had feared to have met the same fate as her husband returned to smile as if nothing had happened.
"You...could have died." Tsunami whispered lowly with her face staring down at her clasped fingers.
For a brief moment, at the sight of the pale-faced boy covered in various open wounds and splattered in dark crimson, she had thought he was dead. That what the ninjas had recovered from Gato's greedy hands had been nothing more than a corpse devoid of warmth.
Again, she had watched someone who radiated a compassionate fire snuffed out.
An uncomfortable frown made its way to Touma's face. Did it only now register to him how close he had been to not seeing the light of day again?
"Yeah, I know."
Tsunami's breath hitched.
A quivering glob was lodged in her throat.
"But I survived, so there's nothing to worry about; this isn't the first time I've been beaten within an inch of my life. It was a horrible experience but it's over with. I don't see any point in wallowing over what might have happened. After all, all the pain was worth it when it resulted in bringing a smile to someone's face."
Dark brown eyes grew wide to the words spoken by a normally smiling boy.
And a gut-wrenching pang struck her chest.
Words were spoken easily. No underlining trauma could be detected.
In the eyes of the supposedly normal teen, were the various bandages, gauze, stitches, and packed wounds nothing more than the level of a scrapped knee?
"You could have been killed."
A mother's words were spoken out as fact. Gone was the gentleness in her voice, replaced with building frustration.
"And you don't care?"
Four simple words were spoken scathingly with a venomous heat unsuited for a mother.
They were enough to stun the bedridden. The words felt as if they had stricken him across the face and left him speechless.
"Tsunami, it's not-"
"Don't lie to me! Don't you dare say it's not like that! Because I refuse to hear the same line of bullshit again!"
A wooden stool struck the floor with a fierce bang reverberating throughout the empty home. The furious mother stood up and spat angrily at the surprised boy, commanding all his attention.
"I've already heard it before. It's not that I don't care but what other choice did I have? Someone was in trouble so I had to help? What else was I supposed to do? No one else was going to help, so of course, I needed to do something? It's just a few cuts, a few broken bones, and some blood! So long as I could save someone, what does it matter?!"
She left no room for Touma to speak, shouting with all her might at the child who returned to her without tears or trauma in those far too perfect blue eyes. Hot emotions shook her body to the point she found it difficult to even breathe.
"You could have been killed! You saw awful, disgusting, evil, and cruel atrocities! You were cut up, beaten, stabbed, and treated like an animal to be slaughtered! Didn't you want to cry? Didn't you want to beg someone to save you? Didn't you pray to god for a miracle? When you were thrown into a filthy cell to be executed for fighting for someone you never met, didn't you feel any regret for throwing your life away because you wanted to be a hero?!"
Kamijou Touma disappeared.
Not physically. The spiky-haired boy remained rooted in bed as he silently listened to the emotional mother rant with moisture swelling in her eyes.
But in a sense, he felt as if there was someone else she was speaking to.
A name was said without any words.
Kaiza.
Long ago, Tsunami would have loved nothing more than to speak the scathing words she was shouting out to her beloved husband.
These words were not kind.
They were harsh.
Selfish.
A rejection of the man who had captured her heart at a time when she believed she would be happy with only her son and father.
But if she had gathered the courage then, if she had swallowed her weakness, if she had only been thinking about the happiness of her family...
She would have sat him down, patted his hand in her own, and scolded him for his careless behavior. The talk might have gone on for hours. Feelings would have been hurt. But surely...Kaiza would have grinned apologetically for worrying her before pecking her lips and soothing her frayed nerves with sweet words and promises.
She never got to say those words. It was far too late.
If she had though, maybe her husband wouldn't have run off to play a martyr to the village that had failed to hold up. She wouldn't have been left alone.
Hero?
Champion?
Those were nothing but empty and hollow titles promising death.
And the spiky boy who had wedged himself into the tragic story of failed champions was walking a path with an ugly fall.
"How selfless can you be? Stop for a second and think about the people you're hurting by charging ahead to play hero! It's not your job to fight for others and suffer in their place! You're not a soldier, a shinobi, or formally trained to deal with these tragedies. Risking your life for strangers is a noble deed but not if it's always putting your life in danger. You have to think about your own life first before that of others. It's not an evil thing to do. Just think about the people precious to you that you would be leaving to suffer because you wanted to play hero! Sacrificing yourself for others would only serve to hurt them instead of giving them anything to be proud of! You're an ordinary man who will die the same as any other man! So, why can't you just-!"
Drip.
Did the naive boy in front of her eyes even understand what kind of fate awaited such a heroic and righteous road?
The hero died in the end, fighting to uphold their justice to the bitter end. As glorious as the fairy tales displayed them, the text never went on to describe what awaited the families of those brilliant champions. They never knew of the loneliness those who adored the hero went through day by day because the hero didn't stop to think about the pain he was creating with their absence.
Kaiza was a great, kind, generous, and big-hearted man who had won Tsunami over the moment he had saved Inari's life and brought a smile to his face. She loved him dearly as she had with her first husband. But the cruel truth was she…
She despised that he had chosen the people of Nami no Kuni over his own family's happiness.
He wasn't an idiot, he should have known that standing against Gato would only lead to his death.
No courage had been implanted into the people who witnessed their champion lose his life in the name of freedom. The masses he treasured and believed in had failed to rise up in his name and fight for their nation. He had died a martyr, taking the will of the people with him to the grave.
Fighting for the good of strangers?
Defending their homeland?
Providing bravery for those too afraid to act?
When had she ever asked for such things as Kaiza's wife?!
All she had wanted was a husband, a father for Inari, not a hero. Hot tears broke free from Tsunami's eyes as she gripped the hem of her shirt. Her voice struggled to leave her throat as Touma's gaze softened.
"Why couldn't you have stood back for the good of your own family's happiness instead of others? We could have run away, so why did you have to throw your life away like an idiot!? Leave it to those who actually stand a fighting chance and just stand back for the good of those who love you!"
Tsunami's voice cracked at the very end, her own eyes watering because of the boy who was far too similar to a certain champion of Nami no Kuni she had married.
These were not words meant for Kamijou Touma. No, these were the long-held desires and thoughts reserved for the invisible presence who had long since been put to rest.
Hero, the very word brought a bitter taste to Tsunami's mouth. It was because of that word her husband had been picked out by Gato. It was that word that made Kaiza stand up to the billionaire thug. It was because of that damn word that instilled courage into the people of their small nation upon a lone man. And it was because of that sickening, corruptible, cruel word that Inari's husband had been publicly executed in front of his son's very eyes.
A single word could be a curse. She had seen it first hand and felt its damage break her family apart.
What Tsunami was asking for could be considered cruel.
It was a purely selfish desire to be asked of a man whose heart was far too big to ignore the pain of others.
Kaiza was a man who believed their own neighbors were no different than his own family. Inari, who was fathered by another man and held no blood relation to him, was undoubtedly seen as his son. And in her heart, she knew her husband would have never been able to do as she had asked.
And because Kaiza couldn't abandon others, he died. Because of the expectation placed upon himself and the village as a hero.
Touma was no different, Tsunami realized. And it crushed her heart to know that the road ahead of the young boy was one of self-destruction devoid of mercy or kindness. She couldn't stay silent again. She refused to let Kaiza's spirit die again!
So she said the words she had longed to say to Kaiza to the young man following down the same bloody road in hopes Touma would take them to heart.
It wasn't shameful to save yourself instead of others.
It was the most basic human desire.
Her chest heaved heavily as she found herself drained, her voice dying as her vision grew blurry from hot tears streaming down her face. She sniffed and fought to control her emotions from completely overwhelming her.
No doubt the bedridden boy was wearing an uncomfortable expression. After waking up from a devastating battle with Gato's demons, the last thing he could have ever desired, or deserved, was to be yelled at by a random woman he had only known for a few days.
Tsunami was not his mother. Nor was she anyone endearing to him. They held no special connection. They lacked a proper bond to justify her scolding a boy who had saved the lives of many without being asked.
He had every right to tell her to shut up, to leave, to force her to apologize for her ungrateful treatment of someone who an entire village now saw as a hero to stand behind.
Silence had settled between the two. Nothing was said for who knows how long.
But slowly, carefully, a set of thin-lined lips spoke up.
"I really am a piece of shit, huh?"
His words were said with bitter distaste and loathing.
"I thought it would be easy, you know? Back home, I would always have a place to return to. Far too many times, I would find myself coming upon a tragic scene. Someone would be in pain, I would spy blood trailing somewhere, I couldn't hear them but I knew someone was calling out for help, even if they tried to hide it, I'd see the pain buried deep in their eyes. Even when I had nothing, knew no one, and found myself colorless in a bright world where all I did have was a bitter but sweet story I never wanted to end…"
A right hand free of damage to the point it appeared ominously clean touched his chest. As if to confirm an unseen doubt he would never be able to clear.
"I wasn't alone. Every time I did something stupid and reckless, I would come across a reason to push me forward. Because I had this thought to keep me company, this desire, this wish forever engraved into my heart to provide me the strength to keep fighting and survive."
Loneliness reflected back at the mother.
"I want to go home. I want to return to that fun place I discovered and don't deserve. I want to continue walking beside the people who would put up with this selfish hypocrite who can only solve the troubles he butts into with violence. So long as I can find myself back there, to where their smiles would greet me no matter how beaten up I am, I would traverse an infinite number of hells for that wish."
A rare sight was seen. One no one else but possibly a Magic God had the privilege to see.
The mask practically plastered onto Kamijou Touma's face had fallen off to reveal the true essence of the colorless husk of a boy who had been born into a blindly colorful world by pure chance.
"But because I can't go back there, because I lack any idea to return to that goal, because that wish is far out of reach where I am...I thought it would be easy. I thought it would be easy to lose myself in a single objective for the sake of a stranger's smile even if it meant I would die. Was that...was that why I nearly lost myself so easily?"
Touma no longer had a home to return to.
World Rejector had exiled him into a new world because his beliefs had clashed with Kamisato Kakeru's. They had rejected each other to the point a violent reaction had flung him to what should have been an empty pocket of the world's phases.
What Touma had discovered though had not been an empty world but a separate reality from the laws of Magic and Science.
The very nature of Imagine Breaker denied any supernatural phenomena from creating a way back to his world. Even if he were to stumble upon such a lucky spell or ninjutsu, his right hand would negate its effects. Unless he discovered a god in this strange new world who had equal knowledge of Magic God Othinus and her understanding of Imagine Breaker, the boy made entirely out of misfortune would never return to his beloved place in the world.
This world lacked the cutting-edge technology of even the modern world outside of Academy City. And even the marvel and pinnacle city of science wasn't anywhere near to creating a device capable of traversing into alternate worlds or realities. He was positive this world based on an era of mythical Japanese folklore could provide him with such a convenient device.
In those private moments alone. Away from the genin team from Konohagakure no Sato. Away from the small family belonging to the bridge builder.
It was these logical and devastating thoughts that had been plaguing his weary mind. An unseen crack had formed in his heart, growing with each day.
And so, upon coming across Boshi, upon witnessing Gato's cruelty and greed, upon meeting Kyofu, Anmi, and her daughters, and trading blows with Zori…that hairline fracture born of loneliness had spread into countless cracks until a part of his kind heart had been broken.
'I...there's no going back...is there? A guy as unlucky as me; what hope is there for me being rescued and taken back home? Doesn't my right hand automatically cancel out whatever odds of such a miracle being granted to this loser of a bloody child?'
Such a quiet and tearful thought had been born at some point in that devilish place where he had soaked in copious amounts of despair.
An excuse had been created to combat the devastating truth that would have broken him then and there.
A reason to lose himself in conflict, in saving others.
To dye himself in destructive colors.
And an excuse to throw his body into the line of fire and death if it meant dying to bring a smile to even one person.
He had thought it would be easy to toss aside his impossible wish of returning home now that he had no reason to cling onto it anymore.
"I didn't do this to be a hero or to be seen as a champion. I fought to protect Boshi, his family, and those others I found in Sector-D because I needed a reason to fight. I wanted to find anything to shut up the lonely thoughts growing with each passing day, tormenting me in those quiet moments where I'm defenseless and weak. People were hurt and crying out for help and I wanted to save them because it was what I thought was right. But honestly? That was nothing more than an excuse."
Gato's tyranny needed to be shut down.
The people of Nami no Kuni deserved to be saved.
Tsunami's family had every right to be happy and free of torment.
But was Touma necessarily essential to either objective?
Wasn't that what Team-7 was here for?
This story didn't need him. If he were to have never appeared out of the blue, he felt as if things would have fallen into a different route. One where the day would have been saved. The bad guy would be defeated. Lessons would have been learned through violence and understanding. And smiles would be found in the end.
It may not have been a perfect ending. It may have been bitter-sweet. But he was sure those bright young ninjas and their veteran sensei would have done a fine job.
It was only because Touma had insisted to be involved that he was even here. And why was that?
Undoubtedly it was because he had come upon a tragic story he couldn't ignore. His heart had all but commanded him to step in. To turn his back on what was transpiring before his eyes would be an insult to the memory of the boy he based all his actions on.
But there was another side to his reasoning. A purely selfish and lonely side.
Involving himself in the matters of those supernatural ninjas and a nation terrorized by a billionaire would stave off the despair. If he kept himself busy with a goal, even if it was temporary, he would push aside the pain and grief of having been exiled to another world.
He would forget about Index. He would forget about Othinus. He would forget about his friends and family. He would forget about returning home.
Because he was focused on the smiles of others and not on his own happiness.
If he lacked anyone to understand him, he would lose sight of himself and his actions.
If he lacked a beacon to return to, he would be swallowed whole by the malice of others.
For once, he would have nothing holding him back as he fully invested himself in rescuing others and their worlds.
In doing so, he found himself wandering dangerously close to the abyss.
But if it meant that a person was saved and had the opportunity to return to their normal lives, he would have been satisfied to have died in the remnants of Sector-D's hell.
After all, there was no one in this world who would have cared if Kamijou Touma had died.
At least, that was what he had believed.
To his utter disbelief, there was a woman standing at his bedside with tears running down her lovely face, who had scolded him with anger in her voice and cared enough to grow frustrated at his desensitized reaction to the terrible experience he had survived.
It was enough to make his heart feel warm again.
"I didn't think there would be anyone to mourn me, let alone cry for the blood I've lost. I honestly believed I could let loose and blind myself with fighting for the life of people I've never met without worrying about upsetting anyone."
Index and Othinus hadn't greeted him when he awoke. No one had been there to tell him off for putting his life at risk. He had nothing to worry about. He was alone.
Yet Tsunami had appeared to destroy that lonely illusion.
A right hand free of damage and a left hand wrapped tightly in white gripped the sheets of the bed in shame.
"Kamijou-san…"
The boiling fury in Tsunami's voice dwindled to a simmer. She felt remorse when she gazed upon the spiky boy who couldn't bring himself to look at her but smiled a melancholic smile.
'Do you need a reason to save someone?'
"Why...why are you lying to yourself?"
Once again, Touma was left stunned by the single mother whose watery eyes stared at him gently.
"You were fighting as an excuse to stave off your own thoughts and loneliness? You used the tears and unhappiness you stumbled upon to push forward for your own sake? Because you had no one to worry about for your sake, you could let loose? Why?"
Hero?
Champion?
Savior?
Why had she believed he was so simple-minded?
"Why do you feel the need to put yourself down? Do you truly hate yourself that much?"
Kamijou Touma didn't argue with her words. No, he had listened intently without motioning he would interrupt. He hadn't grown angry or attempted to defend his actions. He hadn't gone on in a speech to paint himself as a hero who thought about others because it was the right thing to do. Nothing smooth or charming was said to make him shine brighter.
Somewhere in the furious and selfish words she had shouted to him, he had reflected upon his own actions and seen them as an excuse to throw himself into hell for his sake.
Not even Kaiza had ever said worn such a self-loathing smile.
Touma didn't say a thing. As if he himself had asked himself only to fail to ever discover an answer.
"I just wanted to protect someone's world from being trampled on. It had nothing to do with love or justice; even if it was an excuse for my own well-being, my feet were already moving before I could even think."
An honest smile could be found on his face, genuine and naive.
"I've told you before that I'm nothing special when compared to the rest. Despite what I've done, or what others might say of me, I'm just your average, ordinary guy. I understand your worry and frustration but...I can't help but feel as if there's someone else those words were meant for."
Kamijou Touma wasn't alone in the scolding. Those meaningful words were meant for somebody else who stood beside him. That person lacked warmth. They lacked a physical form. They lacked a voice.
But he felt a champion incline their head in shame.
How long?
How long had that lonely mother withheld those bottled-up emotions in her weary heart?
"Do you feel better?"
"…"
A right hand reached for his chest, seeking to linger in a place he knew did not belong to him.
"You've kept a horrible secret to yourself for a long time. Even though you wanted to say it out loud, to release yourself from the stress of locking it away, all in hopes of retaining the image everyone else has grown accustomed to, you decided to shelf it away. Because you knew if you were to say it out loud, there would be those who'd grow upset and even cry. It must have been painful, huh?"
Tsunami once again bit her lower lip. Her hand clutched at her chest. A tear fell.
Why did it seem as if he perfectly understood?
Tsunami hated heroes.
Just like her son. She saw the very title as a bewitching flower with mouths discretely hidden in the lovely petals, luring naive men to fall for its seductive promises of grandeur and justice. It hooked those normal kind souls to stand up against tyrants despite lacking the qualities and talents to do more than die at the idea of trying to do what was right.
She had never told Inari or her father. Whenever her son would speak cynically about fighting back and insulting those who tried, she would admonish him but secretly agree. Whenever her father would speak about his dream of freeing their nation from the evil tyrant's clutches with his bridge, she would hide her scowl with a pretty smile. Because she was Kaiza's wife, a hero's wife.
She was meant to believe in heroes.
Not despise them.
"I may not be the idiot you were wishing to say those words to but it's fine; I'll take that knucklehead's place too. If it means you can let go of that burdening pressure in your heart then I'll accept that selfish and shameful side of you; only if it means you can smile a bit more honestly now."
Stop.
Tsunami's lips quivered and she fought to swallow a cry.
Stop trying to make me feel better.
Stop trying to bring a smile to my face.
Stop trying to think about the happiness of anyone but yourself!
Tears trickled down her face as she once again bore witness to the selfless actions of a man who could not think of himself first.
An invisible and intangible memory stood beside the spiky boy as if to offer his own strength.
"Why couldn't you stop? Why weren't you content with the smiles of your family? Were we not enough? Was there something missing that you could only find in fighting for others?"
Even if she whispered lowly to a memory she could never touch again, those crumbling words were caught by the battered boy.
Touma ground his teeth. His shoulders stiffened as he flinched at the fragile tone entering his ears.
Even if they weren't meant for him, she had struck his heart to reel out a memory.
Tsunami vanished in his eyes, replaced by the angelic form of a girl dressed in white-gold embroiled habit standing in front of a sunny window.
Those words were directed at a person who could no longer receive them but another had taken the stage. She was not here to scold him, admonish him, or bite him. Those lovely emerald green eyes were absent and would no longer plead for him to cease his reckless ways.
He would not feel her small, soft, warm hand around his own to drag him back to their ordinary life with a beautiful smile made of light.
Would Index have said those exact words if she had been in Tsunami's place?
No one knew what Kaiza would say back.
But Touma decided to speak up for himself. To speak to the illusion of the dream he had always fought to the point of breaking his body into a red pulsing mass of flesh to hold again.
Kindred spirits spoke in perfect unison.
"Everything I could ever want was with you. So, how could I tarnish the fun times with you by becoming the kind of person who could happily smile at your side at the cost of turning a blind eye to the cries of someone else?"
He had to wonder if it was the same for the unspoken hero who deserved Tsunami's ire.
Had that ordinary champion of the nation of Nami no Kuni felt the same when his eyes wandered to Tsunami and their family? Did he taste ugly bile at the thought of prioritizing ignoring the pain of a stranger just so he could continue living a peaceful life with his family? Had he come to a point where he had to choose between becoming the kind of man who only thought of his own small little world while refusing to acknowledge the flames devouring the outside world, or throwing himself into the malice ravaging the worlds of others while leaving his beloved family to gaze at his beaten back?
When it came down to it, be it the lingering embers of who he originally was or what his true essence was, Kamijou Touma had simply desired to see everyone involved with a smile. Whatever it may have entailed, he would see through to that wish, no matter the cost to himself.
There was no way to tell what Kaiza would have said. The dead could not speak or convey their feelings from the grave.
Tsunami's breath hitched. Her heart was wrung by those formless desires spoken by a person who had fought people he had never met to the point he would have given up his life.
Her anger, her frustration, her loathing, her bitterness, and her loneliness, had been accepted.
So...how could she remain angry?
The spiky boy had deflected her question; why did he see himself below everyone else? Why did he accept his happiness as an afterthought?
Instead of answering, he had chosen to ease her turmoil. All so she could smile a bit more earnestly.
She found herself growing tired. She was drained after releasing all the pent-up emotions built up over several years. To her dismay, she felt kinda woozy and found herself sitting on the edge of the spiky-haired boy's bed.
What more could she say that she hadn't already?
In a way, this wasn't all about releasing her long-held frustrations and doubts about her deceased husband's decision to put others before his own family.
She had wanted to dissuade the young image of the man she loved to abandon the path he was treading.
Or, perhaps, hoped to rip him off the blood-stained road he had walked for who knows how long.
But the boy hadn't flinched, hadn't been stricken with regret, or grown to doubt the actions he had taken. Only that his selfish actions had brought someone he had never thought to worry for him to cry.
If there was no one to mourn him, to cry for him, to worry for him, to understand him, to greet him…
He would have been lost to the crashing malice and destruction of the tide he was diving into. And he had clearly realized such a thought at some point and decided to rush into the seething wave with a smile. Just so someone else could be free to go back home.
Such a self-destructive boy.
Now wasn't the time to be scolding such a reckless teenager when he was in a terrible state. Clearly, there was more to Kamijou Touma than the image of a simple glorious hero of the people. Deeper darkness clearly leaked from the broken cracks of the simple smile she had seen.
Right now though, he was in pain, bedridden, and exhausted.
"You...are far too alike to him, you know that?"
Touma smiled but didn't say a word. His eyes briefly wandered to the photo frame on the bedside next to the hot bowl of stew. To the torn face of a man who hugged the small family in his strong arms with all the care in the world.
'Kaiza, huh?'
A motherly hand fell atop his spiky locks.
"You know just what to say to temper my mood. But you should watch what you say, Kamijou-san."
His hair was ruffled and found a tender smile turned his way by the caring woman.
"When you say you'll take his place and accept even the ugliest side of me, it makes a woman think you'd go as far as to embrace even her heart. You might just give a lonely woman some rather naughty ideas~."
Whatever the tense atmosphere had been plaguing the room had instantly been shattered by the beautiful woman's words.
A flustered Touma stammered at the older mature woman leaning close with a teasing grin.
Damn it! Didn't she realize he was a teenager with a healthy and natural libido! He'd even told her she closely resembled the woman of his fantasies. What did she think would happen if she got so close, her sweet hot breath practically kissing his lips, a stray strand of hair falling over her forehead teasingly, when he was naked below the bed sheets?!
"P-Please don't joke around with this sensitive Kamijou-san! Don't you know how cruel it is to get a young man's hopes up so high?! Even if the body is frail, it doesn't mean certain parts aren't reactive! Do you know how much blood I've lost?! I don't need whatever is left over to be heading down south!"
Stiffening, it was stiffening!
She wasn't an onee-san but as that drunken old bridge builder had said; weren't kaa-san's the final evolution of onee-san's?!
An uncomfortable Touma couldn't meet the giggling mature woman as he squeezed his thighs together.
"You okay, Kamijou-kun? Your body seems to be trembling. Are you feeling any discomfort anywhere?"
Of course, he had some discomfort! But there was no way she could help him relieve the ache he was currently feeling(sadly)! This wasn't some shitty cliché doujin found in a buggy site choked with adult ads!
Ah, but a boy could dream, right?
Tsunami giggled behind her hand, knowingly staring at the boy who tried to hide his shame; poorly.
But that was fine.
The despair and grief had dwindled to nothing, right?
With a bit of fun, even the most troubled of souls could gain a small curl to their lips.
Kaiza had taught her that long ago.
And she felt out of all the people she had met thus far since her father had gathered the courage to save their people with a dream, the ordinary boy was the one in need of some fun to color his life.
A pleasant meal was shared between two lonely figures who had experienced loss.
And for a moment, the various aches and pains vanished from the small world.
[-]
It hurt to stand but Touma mustered the strength to rise up from the bed and follow the single mother back down to the living room. Though she had insisted he remain and was in no shape to so much as even sit up, he wouldn't listen. Too much time spent in bed tends to numb the lower body and piled up more aches. He needed to stretch his legs here and there.
After popping some dry medicine tablets Tsunami had said Dr. Gaze had left to relieve his pain, he put on some slippers(originally belonging to the gentle and nurturing mother nursing him) and left the soft bed with a clean dark shirt and gray pants Tsunami had lent him.
He had nothing else to do now that he was awake. And while it was a childish thought, he didn't want to be left alone.
It was those moments where he found solace in silence that the grief in his heart would rise up like bile.
He didn't want that. Not now. Not when the image of a bright-faced nun lingered.
It felt pathetic but he wanted to keep himself busy however he could.
It was as this bandaged-faced spiky boy followed Tsunami to the kitchen to clean up some leftover dishes that their conversation took a surprising turn.
Touma paused his hand, a soap-lathered rice bowl in his hand as he stood beside Tsunami in front of the kitchen sink, with a puzzled frown.
"Who?"
The events of Sector-D's finale as it was brought down in a great thundering roar of destruction by unknown means were a blurry memory. All he could dredge up in the haze of stabbing pain was running away. Blood was pouring out of various open wounds, his right hand was mangled by a japanese blade, he was dotted in bruises, his brain was jarred and numb, and an invisible eldritch presence was attempting to break free and rampage like giddy children going out to recess.
Bits and pieces of the scrambled moments after he passed out flitted across his thoughts. A hurricane of utter devastation came to mind. Strange, unnatural colors came to mind.
And teeth?
Had he been in the center of that chaos?
Trying to recollect those moments brought a headache. And when Tsunami mentioned a surprising detail of those scrambled memories, he was left stunned.
The bubbly dish was taken and dipped in mid-temp water.
"You mean you don't remember? Seems after all the trouble you'd gone through, you still couldn't help yourself. In the state you were in, I was just as surprised. She's a rather timid one."
A small, low, fragile voice had spoken up in those fractured memories. In the mayhem of broken metal beam, shattered asphalt, burning wood, hot smoke, and thrashing malice he dreamed to be centered in, a beam of innocence had made its way through.
Tsunami continued to speak, laughing softly at the softly frowning boy.
"When you were found, you were, in Hatake-san's words, a bloody and ragged corpse dropped in the middle of a cracked open warehouse crawling with embers. No one knows what happened but something had split the prison compound apart like a broken egg and driven the remaining forces of Gato out like mice fleeing from a ravenous snake. Those who were captured were stricken by terror, unable to speak of what had torn their lair apart from the inside. Only after making their way to the center of where the crack formed did they find you. And that was where they found her."
Nothing came to mind. Numbness was found, devouring his brain. He couldn't for the life of him remember a thing but those broken pieces.
But apparently, his body had moved further into the hell to reach for something.
"Curled up against your bloody chest was that girl, fingers dug into the rags of your vest and breathing softly. Poor thing; she was trembling, covered in bruises and scratches, with sunken cheeks and a thin frame. It's been a day now since she arrived with you all and she looks better but Gaze-san and Anmi-san say she's still malnourished. I would have kept her here for her own sake but she's become rather clingy to a certain someone who saved her. I think this is the first time she's left your bedside since you were patched up."
He had...rescued someone else? In all that hazy destruction, his beaten-up body had actually searched for the source of a soft cry?
Touma was growing more curious about the identity of the nameless girl he had saved.
"What's her name?"
"I don't know. Tragically, whatever torment she must have suffered at the hands of Gato's men has left memories blank. Dr. Gaze though believes it's less of trauma and rather the work of either drugs or even the effects of ninjutsu. From what we've learned, she can't remember a thing; not even her own name."
CRACK!
Tsunami's shoulders jumped in fright. The sound of a wood snapping startled her. Looking to the source of the violent sound, she was taken back.
In the left hand of the spiky boy was a wooden stirrer, crushed in his tight grip to the point it had snapped into pieces. The hair over his forehead had fallen over his inclined face, shadowing the dark expression she found peeking out from the curtain of sharp tresses. A silent rage overcame the normally casual and kind boy.
"Kamijou-kun?"
Like a switch, the rage clouding his face disappeared.
"Ow!"
Tsunami breathed a sigh of relief as the odd boy gripped his left hand, the bandaged hand now marred by a few large splinters no bigger than his pinkie nail. What a troublesome child.
"Here, let me see."
Once she had dried her hands, unwrapped the cut and bruised hand, picked the wooden splinters out, and disinfected it before re-wrapping it, she decided to shoo the battered boy away. It really was best for him to rest even if he disagreed.
"I can finish up the dishes myself, so why don't you go out and get some fresh air?"
Lacking the stamina to argue with a stern-faced mother waving a broken half of a wooden cooking spoon, the bored teen headed for the door.
He still had questions pertaining to the past two days since the raid on Sector-D.
What happened to the people who were pulled out of that devilish hell? Where had the dark-skinned kunoichi known as Kyofu wandered off to? What about Gato's goons; where they still lurking and abducting the people of the village? Had he responded to the events of the fall of his lair's collapse with vengeance? Were Team-7 alright after breaking in to save this lousy idiot?
And what of the nameless girl who had appeared in his arms in the fall?
Just the thought back to her condition, to her lack of memories, made him bite down on his lower lip in an attempt to withhold his anger.
Awake without any clue to as who you were? Wasn't that an all too familiar feeling?
Just as his fingers touched the door handle, the wooden frame creaked as to warn him of being beaten by whoever stood behind.
Touma stopped as the door opened. He was greeted with a familiar sight.
A tall lanky man with gray hair spiking in one direction, his eyes hidden by a metal forehead, and his one visible eye expressing laziness. Behind him were heads of blonde spiky hair with whiskers, cherry blossom hair parted over a large forehead, and a head of raven hair styled like a duck. The team of ninjas from a foreign nation known as Team-7 found themselves freezing in place as their sensei opened the door. An old man wearing a straw hat and glazes, with dark gray hair and smelling of sweat and alcohol was equally stupefied with his jaw hanging low.
"Holy shit, he's awake? Dear Kami-sama, what the hell are you made of, boy?!"
"I had a feeling you'd come to soon. After everything you've been through; combating one of the Demon Brother's, facing off with Momochi Zabuza, all without a weapon or wielding ninjutsu to your disposal and surviving, I'd come to expect you weren't the type to be laid out for days. Keep showing off like that and you're going to make me look pathetic."
"Why are you out of bed? Do you have any idea how much blood you lost, you stupid idiot!?"
"Dude! You got to show me how you do it! Ya gotta teach me how you can fight so hard through all the pain with just your fist! Please, take me under your wing and teach everything you know about the world of fist-fighting and archetypes!"
"...I don't get you. But it seems you're fine enough to be walking. For a civilian, you're tougher than you appear. If you're not careful, you'll start raising more doubts about your claims of being no more than an ordinary idiot."
Relief flooded Touma's anxious thoughts. He felt a weight vanish from his chest at the sight of those figures who had taken in this lost and helpless boy exiled to a strange world.
They were fine. Not more than a scratch or bandage on them with the exception of the bridge builder who hadn't stepped into the battlefield.
When greeted so lively, he had only one thing to say.
"Thank you!"
He must have looked strange to the surprised group as he bowed deeply in gratitude. Even if the action brought a painful grimace as his muscles cried and his wounds ached, he had to do it. After all…
"You guys saved my life, right? When I acted recklessly, charged into the den of demons without a plan or strategy, with nothing but my bare hands to combat those vicious killers, and was captured to be later executed! You all caught wind of my actions and rushed over to save me. Even though I didn't ask for your help or cried out for anyone to come to my rescue, you still fought against those monsters for an idiot who couldn't survive on his own!"
Wasn't it always like this?
From the moment he had been born again as Kamijou Touma and lacked any memories to build himself off of, he had pushed ahead into tragedies after tragedies. This weak vicious child who could only make a fist and attempt to connect with his attackers had always wound up soaking in grievous damage.
From magicians who could bend reality with their words, espers who could control vectors and wielded wings of chaotic darkness and tranquil white, to combat-loving gods who saw the world as a playground to let loose, and even angels who could manipulate the stars above to perform a world wide spell capable of raining brimstone, he had just barely survived and come out victorious.
In every instance, he had found people of different backgrounds and desires aiding him. Every time he was pummeled to an ugly, oozing pulp, he had been saved.
If he had been alone throughout his fights, he would have died in a pool of his own blood. It was no different here.
"I can't thank you enough for coming to my rescue. I'm in your gratitude and I can't think of anything else I could say to express my thanks."
He had nothing to repay those kind ninjas for risking their lives for him. All he possessed were his empty hands and words. A bow was all he could afford to offer.
His gratitude was met with a deep sigh.
"You truly are a bizarre boy. Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"?"
Kakashi chuckled at the naive head tilt from the far too humble child.
"We're not the ones being hailed as the hero of the village but I suppose you'll come to understand it yourself later on. I believe I've already come to an understanding of your nature, so I won't stubbornly argue who is more worthy of either one's gratitude."
Kakashi ruffled the bowing teen's head, expressing his signature eye-smile to the annoyed reckless fool.
"I'm simply pleased to see you're in fit enough shape to greet us after everything you've been through. Can't tell you how worried everyone was about you; Tsunami-san has been at your bedside since you came back a mess. Well, her and the toothy kid who stared at you from the bottom of the bed."
As he fixed his sore posture, Touma found his eyes wandering to Kakashi. Specifically, the dark blue tresses of hair peeking out from his side from whoever hid behind him.
Did he catch a...gray iris? Grayish...blue skin? Were those gills?!
"...Ryu-sama?"
Touma pointed at himself as everyone gained puzzled expressions.
Ryu-sama?
Dragon?
Where did that come from? She couldn't possibly mean him, right?
Slowly, the nameless girl detached herself from Kakashi, revealing herself to the curious teen.
She was a few inches taller than Naruto. Her skin was a grayish-blue resembling the skin of the alpha predator of the seas; the great and mighty shark. In fact, the resemblance didn't end with her strange skin tone. Her eyes were a steely gray, deep dark lines ran beneath her eyes that he swore were gills, and her dark hair was shoulder length and resembled a deep blue like his eyes. Months, or even years, of undernourishment, have left her frame thin and most likely attributed to her short height.
She couldn't be older than thirteen, possibly fourteen, just a year or two older than the young genin team. Her very appearance was something he hadn't expected to see even though he was transported into a world separate from his own. Even for a world of supernatural ninjas!
He was positive Tsunami or Anmi had gifted the young girl with her current clothes; a navy blue long sleeve vest, a tan pair of shorts, and a pair of simple sandals. Due to her thin frame, the long sleeve vest had to be fastened with rope and had a habit of sliding over her shoulder.
Her very appearance was exotic and seemed to blend in with the seaside village. She reminded him of a shark who had gained legs and turned human. Kinda like a mermaid?
'Have I...have I discovered a new archetype? Shark girl? I never even thought such a genre could work but now that I'm meeting the real thing, I can see the appeal. Fierce, deadly, but cute. I haven't seen her teeth yet but if they were sharp then it would add to the appeal. If only Aogami and Tsuchimikado were here then I'd have some help in properly assessing this new type of girl to further expand upon our research.'
In his study of the girl who called him something as weird as Dragon, he found himself taken by a particular feature of hers.
Her face.
Inwardly he had to control himself from showing any reaction. He felt something inexplicable wring his heart.
The shark girl stared up at him shyly, her wide gray eyes containing a sweet kind of innocence found only in candy. Her cheeks were sunken but her face resembled someone he would have known very well if she were in better shape. Even if she had been salvaged from the ruins of one man's hell, she still contained something pure about her in the way she gazed at him with a sense of wonder.
They were strangers who had met in a hazy memory corrupted by a thrashing storm of destruction. But when he met those innocent wide eyes, he felt a pang in his heart.
The nameless shark girl smiled widely with excitement.
"Ryu-sama!"
A small body rammed itself into Touma's abdomen without delay. He felt his stomach lurch as the blue-gray-skinned girl buried her face in his chest with childish glee and wrapped her thin arms around his abdomen.
"Ryu-sama!"
Touma was paralyzed by the action of the nameless girl's embrace. He didn't know what to do and it showed in how his face was frozen in an odd expression. When he looked towards Kakashi, Tazuna, and Team-7 for help, he received nothing more than amused shakes, grins, shy smiles, and indifferent shrugs. He should have known better than to seek any help from ninjas or a drunk old man.
Out of a habit, his right hand fell atop the unknown girl's dark blue head.
His eyes blurred with mist.
"O-Oh, that's why…"
He spoke ever so quietly that not even those highly trained ninjas could detect the vibrations produced from his lips.
He felt a fine needle scratch at his sensitive beating core.
He was hugged tightly by a small child who spoke to him with a vibrant brightness in her voice. Those wide eyes gleamed with happiness. From the depths of a crisis peppered with despair, he had rescued her and lacked the memory to prove it other than the accounts of others.
Once upon a time, Kamijou Touma had protected another innocent child from the gates of hell. Such a treasured bitter-sweet story was one he adored and refused to ever forget no matter the damage he absorbed.
'Touma!'
Quivering lips fresh with the figment of a gentle wish fought to break down.
"I don't know where you're getting a strange name like Ryu-sama from but my name's Kamijou Touma."
How difficult had it been to gulp down the thick mass of grief in his throat?
He smiled softly at the giggling form who sought his attention.
Was it wrong of him to find an odd tinge of...comfort in the joy of a lonely girl?
"Compared to 'Kamijou Touma' I think Ryu is a far more ordinary name." The lazy-eyed public smut reading ninja commented.
"What's wrong with Touma's name?" Naruto mumbled quizzically as his brows knitted together like a fox kit, "Not like he's named after fishcake."
To the ignorant energetic blond, Kakashi wagged his pointer finger.
"If you'd study properly in your kanji, you'd come to see just how...ominous our boring-faced comrade's name can be interpenetrated. His first name is rather frightening on its own."
Silent and brooding Sasuke quirked a disbelieving brow. When he discreetly looked at Touma's way, he found the so-called normal teen rubbing the shark-skinned girl's head like she were a stray.
Touma.
Invisible Demon.
A hidden beast concealed in plain sight with terrifying claws.
Considering the wake of the dark spiky teen's assault on the billionaire's domain, the defeated criminals beat into the dirt, and his clash with Momochi's Zabuza, the prodigy would have to agree. Only monsters could face monsters.
[-]
It wasn't long until Touma's legs were bawling dramatically for rest. Fresh air was nice but Tsunami had the right idea about kicking his feet up. Being in no condition to argue after he had his time in the sun, the Mummy-jou returned to the modest home.
All while a happy-faced blue-gray-skinned girl closely followed behind.
With Team-7 back from their training and guarding of Tazuna, all the but one important figure had returned to help this empty-headed boy piece together the aftermath of Sector-D's collapse.
In the living room of the bridge builder's family those who had participated in some way in the inner destruction of the physical knife touching the neck of the nation sat. Pleasant humming could be heard in the kitchen from the housewife preparing for the night's meal. Besides the mature woman stood the nameless shark-girl, doing her best to help their caretaker however she could.
At the forefront of his thoughts, Touma had to ask about the very man who had given him a reason to charge ahead to a lair of horned bastards with nothing more than an invisible spark to ward the sticky darkness.
Tazuna cleaned the sweat and grim still caked on his neck with a wet towel as he sat himself down at the dinner table. Even if he found a distasteful frown from his daughter, he popped open a curvy wooden bottle of sake to wet his lips.
"The fool's currently resting in the presence of his loving wife and daughters. The beating Waraji gave him has him stuck in bed as you should be but Anmi-chan's been caring for him every moment of the day. Heard that he's even set to be back on his feet at the end of the week too. He even passed on a message to Anmi-chan for us. Says that Boshi wants to get off his lazy ass and help with construction however he can once he's recovered. Apparently, he's grown sick of cowering at home with nothing to do. 'Bout time that idiot got back to working."
The architect chuckled into the fermented rice beverage at the memory. With a wistful and content sigh, he propped his drink down at his knee, grinning broadly at the relieved dark spiky teen.
"You really inspired that man who adored his family above all else. Boshi all but cut ties with me, content with hiding his wife and kids at home to the point they were all but locked up. Always kept his head down, slinked away whenever any kind of trouble was ready to start, and was rumored to have bribed a few of Gato's own men to look the other way. He'd given up on anything better and thought simply living was good enough."
Not an uncommon ideology in these trying times under Gato's shadow. People gave up. When pushed to the ground far too many times, tasted dirt and blood, and failed to grip onto the things you were struggling to hold onto, what else was there to do?
Protect what little you have left. Be it your last child, your wife, a family heirloom, a pet, or a small object valuable only to yourself, you could only seep into whatever lows you could find to guard it with your life.
"Your one-man crusade against Gato flipped his opinion and made him feel like an idiot for sticking his kin's head into the dirt. He's beaten pretty bad; not as much as you."
For what felt like the hundredth time, Touma felt the occupants in the house staring at him and the plastered gauze on his skin. He felt a bit of himself die at being stared at like some mythical creature by a pack of supernatural ninjas who could create doubles of themselves and summon literal whirlpools.
"But it's nothing good old bed rest and a loving wife can't patch up."
"Lucky bastard." Lamented the single teen who'd never even been kissed.
"Says the idiot who all the village girls have been whispering about these last two days."
Muttered the pouting old man into a long sip of his smooth saki.
"He's not the only one who's grown tired of hiding. Ever since Gato's little clubhouse for his pet demons was brought down in a roar of flames and violent bangs, a great number of folk have…"
It felt strange to Tazuna to even say it. Those words on his lips have never felt so alien. A long-forgotten word was said slowly, said with wistful awe, said with almost child-like glee.
"Hope. They've begun to hope if even just a little. This numbing and dreadful slump has been given a pulse. It's weak, nothing more than a faint ember barely breathing in all the sticky darkness surrounding it, but there's heat in those cold and carved-out chests. You can see it in their eyes. The fear, anxiety, emptiness, and grief have been cracked. Enough for over twelve men alone to risk their lives to drive away a small group of Gato's men who had been lurking near the village after they had all been run out!"
Having been knocked out due to exhaustion, damage, and most likely anesthesia, the naive Touma had no idea of the events playing out from outside Sector-D.
"Wait, did you say they were driven out? When?! Are you telling me you guys already ran the midget's henchman out from your nation in over a day?"
Instead of the bridge builder explaining the situation, it was Kakashi who decided to inform the surprised teen of the aftermath. Though his eyes were forever glued to the open orange book in his right hand, he was still capable of explaining the missing bits of the story thus far.
"I wouldn't put it like that. You have to remember that Nami no Kuni is a nation. A small land but land nonetheless. The very village we are holding ourselves up in is but a fragment of the soil Gato's coveted as his own property and business. Our fun little raid did more than just empty out the buzzing though. Those scrambled worker bees flying about in search of nectar were smoked out from the field by those who witnessed those terrifying pests being brought down to the realm of humans."
Horns adorn to terrify the weak masses had been broken. Fed-up ordinary citizens who weren't born or destined with supernatural powers had taken up arms to push back against their abusers.
"Our attack on Sector-D was seen by all those weak-willed villagers who were terrified to so much as glance at their tormentors. I can't say what it was those trembling folk had seen in those ravaging flames but it was enough. Just enough to push them past the breaking point to fight back."
Tazuna scratched his balding scalp with a strange expression. Surprise, doubt, and amazement swam in those weary orbs.
"I thought they were all just a bunch of cowards. I said so to many of their faces when they refused to help with constructing the bridge or hiding a few materials from Gato's goons. All they did was cower behind Kaiza's back, scurry away when their champion crumbled, and accept all the misery crashing down upon them like some almighty tidal wave. But to think that a few of them would dare to snap back at all?"
To the haggard old man who should have been enjoying his golden days in peace and comfort, who felt as if he alone stood against the toxic tide of a dictator, it must have been dumbfounding to hear. The very folk he had written off as too cowardly and traumatized to get up on their feet without a symbol had made their own stands without his help. Was he even sure of what to feel?
"Their little uproar didn't come without its own consequences. A few of those who picked up random tools and objects to rush at the criminals under Gato's thumb were grievously wounded. A few were killed."
Kakashi's grim statement caused the young genin to grit their teeth or hang their heads solemnly.
A change was felt in the air.
"?!"
Those gathered in the living space found their gazes tracing the spike of brief killer intent to an unlikely place.
Kamijou Touma stared down at his lap, his fists tightly balled, his eyes shadowed by his hanging locks of hair to conceal the darkness threatening to leak out, and his jaw tightened to the point a small noise of teeth groaning could be heard if one listened carefully.
"How many?"
He whispered lowly. As if he was ashamed of himself for even daring to speak.
The blunt and cold logic shinobi Kakashi didn't mince words.
"If I recall correctly, a total of eight people died in the riot; five male and three female. Including those butchered that very day by a one-eyed thug; thirteen total."
Touma's shoulders stiffened. To hear the number spoken out loud cemented the loss of lives far out of his reach to defend. It was an unpleasant truth that made his body shiver as if he had been touched by a slimy appendage.
He wanted to lash out.
He wanted someone to blame.
He wanted someone to punch.
To beat down.
To savagely tear apart with his bare hands.
To inflict pain, pain, pain, and more pain.
But the battered teen found his fists letting go of the tension rising in his heart. He sighed wearily and leaned back on his arms to stare up at the ceiling.
Violence here would gain him nothing, solve nothing, fix nothing, or save nothing.
The darkness planted in his heart by demons seethed but simmered down until it fell flat.
Thirteen people had died. Nothing would magically reduce that number to zero. An almighty god wouldn't wave their lance to resurrect the lost lives.
All he could do was accept the dreadful number, swallow it, and remember it.
Thirteen people were dead because of Gato's selfish greed. How many more had been killed behind the scenes? How many more of Nami no Kuni's people had vanished without even a body to cement their death?
Far too many to ever estimate.
And he'd be damned if he allowed that damn invisible number to continue rising by so much as a single digit.
"We can't let Gato's greed continue tearing this nation apart. He has to be stopped."
"Oh? So, are you aiming to assassinate the dictator of an entire nation all by yourself? Do you believe sticking a kunai in his heart, slitting his throat, drowning him, poisoning him, mutilating him, or choking the life out of him would resolve everything perfectly?"
"…"
The very fact he hadn't outright denied the thought concerned Touma.
A piece of that ugly and sickening hell had latched onto his heart. And burned.
Kakashi shook his head ruefully. He had felt the sudden spike of anger and killing intent as his students had. Even the civilian Tazuna had slightly jumped.
An ordinary child had come face to face with a physical manifestation of a demon's vilest desires. Disgusting acts had been found. Foul odors lingered. Noises no child should have ever heard were recorded permanently.
Yet…
'You didn't break? No doubt, you must have been born witness to the sickening acts Gato's men had been subjecting Nami no Kuni's citizens to. You were at the heart of their darkness and pushed through with all sorts of wounds on your body. A normal person would have crumbled, cried, broken down, or lost faith in humanity. But those eyes...why are they so firm and determined?'
The mystery of Kamijou Touma continued to deepen into a strange and baffling route, not even a season veteran as Kakashi could so easily solve.
"I understand your anger and impatience. But I'd suggest stepping back from any further actions against Gato. After all, this isn't a combat mission." Kakashi explained sternly, mostly to the three genin students under his charge. He could already make out a certain eagerness in the three children's gazes.
They too must have come upon scenes refusing to fade away from their memory.
Sasuke's eyes burned hotly as if he had come across a scene taking him back to a certain night long ago.
Sakura's lips were drawn back in a bitter line as if to conceal the ugly expression on her face of disturbing scenes she had never desired to see.
Naruto's fists had cracked and his blue eyes had grown wild as if he was recalling scenes of cruelty he hadn't been able to stop.
If he so much as said the word, each one would have leaped at the chance to charge at Gato's empire.
This was precisely why he had forbidden any of them to confront any of Gato's men when in the village. They were to ignore those horned beasts and continue walking ahead or hide in the shadows. Because their naive hearts would never allow them to sit still they bore witness to the cruelty of man mirroring demons.
"But Kakashi-sensei!"
"Are you talking back to your superior? That is a punishable offense. Say another word, and not only are we dropping this mission, but I will personally demand the Hokage to strip you of your rank as genin."
Naruto looked as if he had been struck across the face. A sense of betrayal washed over his face as he growled and swallowed whatever he wanted to say. The young genin crossed his arms over his chest and looked away in frustration.
Sasuke clicked his tongue with a grimace. Sakura dropped her head, wilting to their teacher's strict tone.
There was no regret in Kakashi's heart. He couldn't allow his students to act so brashly or demanding. They weren't children. They were ninjas. Soldiers and hired arms. Emotions held no place in their line of duty.
"We are not an army. You are genin, fresh out of the academy. And not even a jonin like myself can confidently take on an entire armed force of a private army of criminals, ex-shinobi, and mercenaries. To do so would be suicide. Besides-"
"This isn't your fight to fight. That right rests solely on our nation, not you."
A saki bottle was slammed down with a fierce bang. Enough to startle Tsunami by the kitchen who looked over with concern before turning the young shark-girl by her side back to help her prepare for dinner.
Tazuna's features were stern, refusing to crumble in the face of the surprised ninjas. Gone was the drunkard who thought the people he was intent on saving were lazy, terrified children. A spark of the original man had awoken and spoke firmly.
"Saving us yourselves won't do a damn thing for our spirits! The people of this nation have to understand that they themselves have to fight for their freedom and happiness, not anyone else! We can't continue placing all our hopes and dreams on one person anymore. That kind of crushing weight, that kind of retched curse, that unfair and unbalanced responsibility! We have to learn to bear it all together!"
Maybe it had been the saki. Maybe it had been the long hours of work. Maybe it had been the anxiety of killers hunting you down.
Or maybe it was because he had finally caught a glimpse of the dream he had been attempting to carve.
Whatever it was, the old bridge builder glared at the gathered ninja he had hired to protect him and his family.
"I didn't hire you, people, to come to our rescue. I hired you to keep me safe as I work to finish building the symbol my people need to awaken their long-lost hope! If it was a matter of hiring people to slaughter the mole-faced bastard, I would have saved whatever I could. I would have begged anyone I could. I would have given up whatever I could. Even if it scrapped away at my pride, I would have worked towards gaining the money needed to hire a well-trained group of powerful and legendary warriors to take out the tyrant even if it took decades. But what then?"
Tazuna's voice cracked, his straw heat brought down to hide his grieving expression of a loss he would never be able to accept.
"Are we supposed to grow accustomed to this? To be saved whenever we're in danger? To continue being so weak and helpless that we crumble when we suffer a loss? Are we doomed to accept being so pathetic that we can't even live up to the hopes of one person who fought to the bitter end to inspire us to reject this misfortune?"
Nami no Kuni had always been an impoverished nation. Compared to the many lands surrounding it, it was a fragile and pitiable land. No military power, no special goods, nothing unique to make them stand out. Ruled by a lord who grew fat on the trimmings of a nation incapable of sustaining itself and who cowered away into a hole when a nasty demon showed up at his door.
What was the problem? What was the root cause of such pestilence?
Its people. Without a doubt, Tazuna believed the fault laid not in their resources, their lack of unique powers, their lack of military force, or their lazy and idiotic lord, but in the people who lived in the poor land.
As one of its people, he accepted the fault. He understood the root problem. He knew what was the center of the rot. And he knew how such a man like Gato had been able to so easily nudge himself into their world to the point knocking him off would cause everything to collapse.
If the people of a nation were too nervous to speak up about the injustices plaguing them, further injustice would build. If the people were too pathetic to cry out for help, they would grow into pathetic worms. If the people were too scared to stand up for themselves then they would be at fault for the beatings they received.
He knew it was cruel and unfair to blame them for the misery Gato spread. But whose fault was it that no one said a thing when such a sleazy man walked into their nation with a salesman's pitch to fix everything without showing any scrutiny? Who had placed all their hopes in one man when that very sleazy man began abusing the citizens of their nation and demanded him to fight in their place? Whose fault was it that the memory of that man's last stand hadn't caught their hearts on fire?
Everyone was to blame. Because they had grown to accept this suffering as an everyday commodity they couldn't change.
And he had enough of allowing such an ugly acceptance to continue.
"Nami no Kuni needs to be the one to deal with Gato. Whether we gut him like a pig or drive him away in tears, we have to be the ones to close this unpleasant chapter of our lives. We have to be willing to take the risks, take the blows, take the grief, take the loss, and grow stronger through it all. Unless we gain the courage to try...we'll never be able to rescue ourselves."
An old man had grown fed up with having to be protected. He had grown tired of standing aside as someone else shouldered the crushing weight of their small world. When he looked at his village, his home, a land he had once felt pride in no matter how poor it had been, he had grown disgusted at the lethargic despair and empty eyes living in accepted misery.
So, he had wanted to inspire those who had given up. A physical symbol of hope to build back their nation using commerce between the other surrounding nations by utilizing their land as a trading route to allow an easier path for merchants to pass through without having to go around the treacherous terrain. If he built a path for his battered people to walk on then they would no longer have an excuse to sit on their asses with nothing to do.
Hope was all but lost, so he would have to be the one to give it to them.
And once they had hope, once they had courage, once they took their first steps on the new road to a better future…
"Those folk who found the spark to rebel against Gato's thugs realized it. They saw the supposed almighty symbol of a tyrant devoured by flames so easily it must have made them cry and laugh. Once given a reason, a symbol, even us weak village folk can rise up and drive a demon lord off his throne. We don't need champions-"
"You're far better suited for such roles yourselves, so take the so-called special title and spread it. You'll look so much cooler if you stood up yourselves."
A normal spiky-haired boy spoke up with a rueful grin, matched only by the tired old man with an empty sake bottle. A pleasant swish of rice liqueur was heard as Tazuna raised his oldest friend up, drank deep, and gave the stunned talented ninja of a famous village a deep laugh.
"Don't look down on us simple village folk! So long as we have heart, so long as we have courage, so long as we stay strong! Even this weary old man can get up off his ass and knock the teeth out of Gato's ugly mug!"
All that was needed was a spark to feed the flame.
[-]
The conversation took a turn onto a matter Touma had been eager to hear.
"So, she left? Just like that, huh."
Nothing else could be said about the foreign kunoichi's departure. At some point last night, she had slipped away under the curtain of the night without a word. To where and to do what, she left no clue.
Touma felt an ache in his chest at the lost chance to speak with her again.
Kyofu. A kunoichi from a foreign nation known as Kumogakure no Sato. A dark-skinned beauty with a lithe body who this unfortunate exiled teen had found as a cellmate as he awaited his execution.
If it hadn't been for the kind-hearted kunoichi's aid, he would have died in a dirty old cell. Alone this weak boy would have either bled out or been publicly gutted like a factory pig. His special right hand would have been useless and not even the bizarre destruction in his hand would have been able to break out. Whatever accolades he had under his belt after raising fists with his world's strongest figures in the magical world and scientific world, none would have been of any help.
Because of Kyofu, the seething violence ever-growing in his vulnerable heart had been weakened. Her voice had soothed his doubts, his fears, his anger, and disgust at every corner as they traversed the prison camp. He would have died without her but…
Not even the kindness in his fist would have been enough to stave off the growing seed of malice in his lonely heart.
Dinner had finally been prepared and the group now found themselves sitting down at the table with a hot home-cooked meal. Bowls of seasoned white rice, grilled fish caught from the ocean, a simple beef stew swimming with carrots and potatoes, and some greens. A nice and filling dinner for those who had been working hard.
It was nothing like the mundane meals Tsunami had cooked with what little ingredients she could scrounge up from the pickings left over in the village market. Being a self-sufficient high school boy with a budget to work around, he could tell even at a glance that the stew itself was richer and fuller than its previous form of a few days ago. And there seemed to be more than enough to go around for thirds.
He mused his thoughts aloud as struggled to keep the hungry shark-girl sitting next to him from stealing his grilled fish. She had grown incredibly close to him since she had met him and refused to stray from his side now that he was awake. Almost like a little sister character who adored her older brother from the bottom of her heart.
If Aogami or Tsuchimikado were here, both idiots would deck him in the jaw.
"As of now, Gato has lost one of his bases, the closest one to the village at that. For the time being, his influence and control can't reach us."
"Can't reach us? What does that mean?" Touma asked curiously as he pushed the nameless shark-girl's face back before she could bite into his spoonful of hearty beef stew, "I would think that after you guys brought down one of his bases that he would retaliate."
Kakashi nodded but raised a single finger, "True, he would strike back. While not as large as his other bases I would believe, Sector-D was a base of operations that allowed him to intimidate the masses, collect taxes, and take people prisoner for ransom or made into slaves. But he would have to take into consideration the fact that one of his pieces on the game board was easily taken down in less than a day. To snap back now would only invite more attacks on the rest of his strongholds, an action he can't afford right now considering how easily his men were taken out. What Gato doesn't realize is that we have no intention of attacking him directly as we did before; our mission states that we are only to act as Tazuna-san's bodyguards until he's completed the construction of the bridge. But Gato doesn't know that, seeing the attack on one of his strongholds as a sign that we are more than prepared to take him on again if pushed. His manpower right now consists of low-level thieves, thugs, mercenaries, basically anyone willing to spill blood for money no matter their skill level. The only real threatening card he holds would be Momochi Zabuza and the unknown Hunter-nin, both of whom won't be played until Zabuza has recovered at the end of the week."
Touma caught onto what was being said quickly, "He can't afford another loss like that again. Gato may be merciless but he's not an idiot. He knows better than to make a hostile move that would result in a repeat of yesterday that can possibly lead to the villagers rising up to take up arms and fight. He probably connected the attack with the idea that he went too far in harassing the villagers, believing that the shinobi hired by Gato would stay out of his way and focus on only guarding Tazuna-san. Now he sees differently."
"If Gato were to make another move against the village this early, his men would be targeted and another one of his bases would go down; is his belief. It's a gamble the rich businessman is far too nervous to take. Especially if such a play would encourage the people to stand up and fight back."
Kakashi agreed as he leaned further back in his seat with a sigh, "The smart move for him to do right now would be to pull back his men, leave the village alone, and wait until Momochi Zabuza's recovered before going all in. And this time he'll be sending out the Hunter-nin as well. If Zabuza and his companion can take us out this time then it would not only serve to put fear back into the heart of the masses but succeed in crushing any hopes as Tazuna-san is killed before the construction."
"So, it's fallen into a Wait and See kinda deal, huh?" What a nerve-wracking situation. While there would be no attacks from here on out that meant that a much bigger, fiercer, and more powerful attack was to come instead. Touma shut his eyes with a grimace.
Taking on both Waraji and Zori in one day had resulted in Touma nearly dying, and they were nothing compared to Momochi Zabuza. The Demon of The Mist now knew of what Touma was capable of after their fight, no doubt knowing better than to use Ninjutsu against him and focus instead on his hand-to-hand skills or cutting Touma down with his executing buster sword that was highly effective against a high school boy with no protection. Their next fight wouldn't be the same as before.
But the anxiety did bring about some good. Enough to outweigh the fear of tomorrow.
"With Gato's thieves pulled back, the village can finally keep their resources to themselves. Their stock of goods, for the time being, will not be depleted by the greedy bandits pilfering whatever they desire from the people who labored hours and hours to feed and care for their families. It isn't much but what they've been able to keep for themselves is just enough to feed even the hungriest of children left out in the streets."
Hungriest of children, huh?
The grilled and seasoned salmon caught between his wooden chopsticks was snatched out of his grasp by the toothy blue-gray-skinned girl sitting next to him. She had no name, no memory of before she found herself in a collapsing prison, and had no one. But the bright smile on her face hadn't been dimmed by the experience or the lack of true colors to her character as she happily devoured the juicy white meat with a giddy hum.
Unlike the spiky-haired boy who had been so lost to his identity or purpose that he stole the place of the boy who had rightfully deserved the warm home he had taken for himself.
She was thin, malnourished, and lost. Yet she could still smile so brightly it nearly blinded him when she turned to stare at him, a piece of fish and grains of rice stuck to her cheek, with a pleasing smile.
She had woken up with nothing. Not even a name. Her memory was just as damaged and broken as the once colorless boy. Even when he felt he was brought back to square one with nothing to his name but a fist suited for collecting trouble and inflicting violence, she handled the scary circumstances with such a giddy elation he couldn't bring himself to reflect.
"Thank you for the meal, Ryu-sama!"
He felt envious.
But if she could make such a smile so easily...maybe he could too.
"At least you say thank you despite stealing my meal. And can't you tell you have food on your face? Here, let me see."
"Hm? What are you-hehehehehehe! It tickles! Hey! I could have still eaten that, Ryu-sama!"
"If you're that hungry then here, you can have some of my stew. But you also have to eat the greens! You can't just gobble up nothing but protein and carbs. It's not healthy for someone who's so deprived of vital nutrients and vitamins. And I told you before, call me Kamijou-san or just Kamijou. I don't get where you got the Ryu from but please don't tack on such a foreboding name to this bland teen! I've already got plenty of odd and terrifying names back home, so I don't need another one added to the list!"
It was a rather strange sight to see those eating at the table.
The self-professed normal teen cleaned the bits of food off the pouting shark-girl's face with the manner of an older brother and spoke as so. As if he was used to this sort of...bond.
Neither of the two knew of another. They had only just met a few hours ago.
But the awkwardness naturally found in such instances was nowhere to be found. As if some barrier had crumbled. Now it almost seemed as if the two had known each other for years.
"Do you have a little sister back home, Kamijou-san?"
It was Tsunami who had asked the question as she looked on with a pleasant expression at the two.
"I wouldn't say it like that. I'm an only child. And I've apparently lived all on my one since I was six years old due to...reasons. It was only until this past half-year that I found myself with roommates to care for. I would cook for them, clean for them, take care of them, buy clothes for them, and protect them all on my own. They were nothing but trouble, causing me nothing but grief and further piling onto my troubles, but they made me happy. They were the reason I could put up with so much abuse."
The little shark-girl's face grew confused as the older boy's hand dropped from her face.
"Guess they were my world."
She couldn't comprehend the strange tight expression on her savior's face. But it made her feel sad.
"Does your stomach hurt, Ryu-sama? Are you really hungry too? H-Here! You can have my leftover broth and the tasty white fish I was saving for last! I know how much it hurts when you're really, really hungry, so don't worry. I'll make you feel better!"
Even if she felt as if she hadn't eaten enough to make her feel satisfied for once. Even if she had been hoping to stuff herself with a delicious white fish that melted in her mouth. Even if this was the first real meal she had had in who knows how long since she had awoken in a blurry hurricane of terrifying colors lashing at the world.
The nameless shark-girl shoved a small plate of simple skinned and seasoned fish in the face of the older boy's strained expression. Almost as if she was lifting up an offering at a temple.
She heard a hefty sigh followed by a small laugh. The measly offering she offered to her hero was pushed down in rejection.
"If you want to make me feel better then eat your heart out, Otohime."
"...Oto...hime?"
"!?"
Without understanding it himself, the name had slipped out of Touma's tongue.
Maybe it was because he was kinda reminded of the over-affectionate cousin he had met during Angel Fall last summer. They were just about the same age.
"Otohime!"
He had said it by accident but the shark-girl repeated it with a large and happy grin on her gray-blue face.
"Otohime! Otohime! Otohime! That's my name! Otohime! Because that's what Ryu-same called me! Otohime!"
She seemed to like the sounds of it because she continued to repeat the name over and over again as she raised the plate of white fish up high like a treasure. All while her happy grin continued to stretch over her face.
"What an interesting name, Kamijou-san! I think it's a lovely name for little Otohime-chan."
The single mother found it just as fitting and gave the spiky-haired boy a motherly smile.
"And here I was calling her shark brat this whole time." The old bridge builder muttered.
The motherly smiling Tsunami swiftly smacked the top of that old man's head without so much marring her warm expression.
"Says the drunk who named his only daughter after a massive and deadly force of nature all seafarers fear."
"I stand by my decision."
Another smack was delivered that sent the tipsy old man's head smacking into the wooden table. No one bothered to pay attention to the salty tears on the whimpering drunk nursing a bump on his balding noggin.
"At the very least the village can rest easy." Touma thought positively, "They won't be harassed by Gato's men anymore unless you guys fail to protect Tazuna-san. Which means you are all going to need to get stronger in preparation for the final showdown."
"So, what's next?"
It wasn't over.
This was but a pause before the plot escalated any further. By no means did it say the fighting and despair would stop after one sudden victory.
Men like Gato wouldn't retreat and give up territory so easily. He would take the time to plan out his next punishing action with an ugly grin on his face.
Kakashi paused slipping out his ever enjoyable book of erotic misadventures at the question. A subtle frown was found on his face as he laid the orange book down beside his empty plate.
Empty plate.
He'd finished his meal in a matter of moments when everyone was preoccupied with this or that. Only now did they all come to realize the fact.
"Damn it! He did it again. Is it some kind of super-rare forbidden ninjutsu?"
"Hn, most likely he carefully plans it out, takes advantage of the small slips of collective distractions, and with his veteran skills and muscle memory, finishes his actions in a matter of seconds. Or is it the sharingan?"
"Or a genjutsu? A passive one with little demand for chakra that's always raised up to trick the optical senses."
"If it's an illusion, can my right hand shatter it?"
"Ooooh, magic!"
Once again, the small genin team he was in charge of was attempting to get an eye of what lay underneath his mask. Kakashi chuckled at their crappy group huddle and whispered off the side. At the very least his mask helped to build some camaraderie between his students and got them to participate in a silly team-building exercise without even knowing it. He was a bit concerned to see Touma stare at his creepy right hand while the shark girl grew starry-eyed.
"We continue to wait. To train and recover. To carefully observe our surroundings as we return to guarding Tazuna's construction of his bridge." he carefully explained to not only Touma but his eager students, "We never planned on directly confronting Gato; that's not our mission. We would only act when his men acted to attack Tazuna or his family. To jump into battle so blindly would only invite a greater spread of violence and loss of life. So, we will return to our original strategy of protecting, not attacking."
There was no arguing from Touma about the plan. In fact, his shoulders lost some of their tension as he sighed tiredly.
He wanted this to end. He wanted Gato gone. He wanted the demons underneath his thumb to be ejected from this impoverished nation.
But not at the cost of any more lives being lost because they wanted to rush it.
Even if he wanted to charge ahead to the little greedy mole's base and deliver a barrage of punches personally. One hit wouldn't end this nightmare. Far too many stalled and crooked cogs were jamming up this system to be remedied in one battle.
"We must also take into consideration the underlining threat of Momochi Zabuza. The ex-Kirigakure shinobi is an all too powerful and overwhelming card still at his disposal. Damaged as he was, a terrifying warrior embodying blood-lust would know how to recuperate in a matter of a week. Not to mention the unknown danger of the Hunter-nin who had proclaimed him as dead; they could be working together and further increase the difficulty of our next encounter. We have to prepare ourselves for that inevitability whenever it may occur."
This wasn't an if. A maybe. Or a possibility.
This was just a small pause before the true ending could be reached.
"Our mission is to protect the bridge builder Tazuna. Combat is not required to complete the mission but we would be idiots to not expect any more violence coming our way. If Gato thinks he can retreat and obsess over his measly Ace in his waning hand of cards or save whatever Pawns he has left while waiting for the opportunity to achieve victory with his King on the board, then we'll simply have to crush his last and final move with all our might. We'll show that pompous false lord of the land just how terrifying and cruel the proud shinobi of Konohagakure no Sato can truly be."
A sense of excitement could be felt entering the young ninjas' youthful spirits.
Each of them had tasted a true sense of combat.
A vengeful avenger had come across injustice and decided he would use his gifts to strike back and further grow his power.
A naive cherry blossom had come across a filthy bed of cruelty and had not wilted or been dirtied, instead of finding something she couldn't explain planted in her romantic heart.
A boastful and mischievous fox had come across demons far more twisted than the one he was pictured to be in his home and had grown to see a purpose in his growing claws and fangs.
Something about this mission had changed for them. Only when they reached the conclusion of this false simple beginner's level outside their comfy home, would they discover what it was.
"So, it all comes to an end when the Final Boss decides to make himself known with a surprise attack? One final battle. If it really is that simple then even I can't complain."
Bandaged and battered Touma flexed his right hand in front of his face with a strange smile.
It most likely wasn't as simple as he was making it out to be. It seemed far more complicated than that. After all, defeating Momochi Zabuza wouldn't eliminate Gato from the scenario. The true troublemaker would still be at large. Further despair could still be produced if the figurehead remained in power.
Not even his right hand could fix the original system that allowed such a tragic series of events to play out.
But what if this one deafening victory was all the people of Nami no Kuni needed? What if this was the potent spark that would lit the fire in their bellies and give them a chance to be courageous?
What if this was what would lead them to save themselves instead of relying on something as flimsy as heroes to fix their nation?
"Kid, don't tell me you're seriously considering fighting too? Have you looked at yourself? You're more bandages than boy right now!"
"Kamijou-kun, this isn't your fight. You've already done enough as is. Don't-"
"But I want to."
A bewildered Tazuna and a frantically worried Tsunami found themselves growing silent.
Was he making a weird face right now? Was that why Kakashi was shaking his head with an amused chuckle?
"And yet you continue to deny to be anything else but normal? Denial is an ugly thing to hold onto, Kamijou-san."
Touma felt like crying, "Please stop bullying this poor Kamijou-san. His HP's already blinking a critical red, don't go wounding him any further!"
Sasuke scoffed, "Even I can see that you're far beyond normal despite being a plain-faced civilian. You could be a sleeper agent for all we know with your unnatural ability to avoid a B-rank ninja and survive near-fatal wounds without much concern. That or you have the devil's luck."
Touma's forehead hit the table. Tears ran down his face as his muffled cries of being normal and pain from hitting his bandaged temple were ignored.
Tsunami unhappily sighed. She had been hoping that Kakashi would forbid Touma from getting involved in their matters with Gato again. It was a hope in vain. Even if Touma was told to stay out of the fight, he would break free from whatever was holding him back and run in. She had already accepted it and could only hope that the Konoha ninja kept him safe as well as her father.
Swallowing the last bits of rice and grilled fish, Naruto happily grinned as he punched Touma's shoulder and ignored the teary eye glare from the older teen while Otohime patted his arm with a giddy grin.
"Ya hear that?! Gato's all but done for now! That fancy chocolate named bastard's days are numbered now that Team-7+Touma are on the scene. Not even some browless freak with a giant sword will be able to stop the heroes of Nami no Kuni from saving the day!"
Hope was in the air even in the village after one of Gato's bases was taken down in a day. The people were no longer as afraid as they were once were. Thanks to the efforts of Team-7 and Touma saving the imprisoned people of the village and scaring away the mercenaries, the spirits of the people had been uplifted enough for them to see there was hope in standing up to Gato's reign.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Nami's weak, spurting ember had grown brighter and bigger to nearly resembled a flame. The island nation's chances of breaking free from a billionaire's greedy grasp no longer seemed impossible.
The brightness in Naruto's exclamation was enough to bring smiles to Tazuna and Tsunami's faces as well as Sakura, Kakashi, and Touma with Sasuke smirking slightly.
"You're just wasting your breath, idiot. You should know that heroes don't exist and you're only running ahead to your death."
[-]
"Inari-kun!"
Inari stiffened but never let his cold gaze drop from the annoying sun-kissed blond ninja in orange. His lips peeled back in disgust at what he was hearing.
He'd come down for dinner when his mother had called him down and he'd sat down without saying a word in the company of false virtuous idols spouting lip service after lip service. Unlike the weirdo with blue skin who stared at the idiots with adoration and awe, he had nothing but bitterness building up in his eyes. Every time they spoke of the good they were doing.
Every time they smiled at the progress they were making.
Every time they laughed freely for surviving.
Every time they spoke with the hope of inching closer to ending Gato's reign.
The bubbling fury in the young child's scarred heart sputtered. Until it became too much to contain.
When he had walked the streets of the villager earlier, when he braved to roam about in the territory claimed by the bastard who had killed his father, he had heard those listless and cowardly adults speak happily. The men and woman who were supposed to have stood up to take up the mantle of his father's will and courage but had been too pathetic to even build him a memorial or speak up in his wake…
The village people had called that arrogant and naive ninja- they called him, heroes.
Heroes? In Nami no Kuni? Were they trying to follow after his father to their own deaths like drowning dog in the ocean? What were they saying? A bunch of overblown idiots who believed one win spelled their victory. Did they honestly think that was worth celebrating as if they had cast aside their shackles?
What did it matter that one of Gato's bases was taken out? He had many more to make up for one loss. He still had plenty of men to throw around like they were disposable Ryo bills. Gato had the boogie man of the Kiri in his pocket, Momochi Zabuza, at his beck and call to slaughter them all. It was only a matter of time before the billionaire decided to stop lazing around and take them all out. Resources and manpower were all but limitless to a man who owned an entire nation. Nothing was impossible for the billionaire who had long ago stolen the soul and pride of their home.
It didn't matter that his grandfather had Konoha shinobi playing shields for them. Three of them were overconfident brats and one was a man who had already been wounded by Zabuza. Like everyone else who had gotten in Gato's way, they would be killed. What made them any more special than those who were already dead?
Just because they had been trained from an early age to fight? Just because they had the ability to utilize strange supernatural powers? Just because they had a veteran shinobi leading them? Just because they were born from a strong and powerful nation famous for powerful ninjas?
What did it matter? Without a doubt, they would die.
Just like Inari's father, the only real hero this lousy nation had known. It was pointless to think anything could be done to save their home now.
"What was that you damn emo-brat!?"
Young stoney black eyes regarded the annoying head of spiky blond hair with an unsettling gaze no child his age should have been capable of producing. His eyes were icy yet there was a strong fire of hate simmering in the cold.
Inari scoffed at Naruto's childish behavior. It made him question which one between the two was the real brat.
"Get over yourself. Do you think you stand any chance against an army of Gato's mercenaries and Momochi Zabuza all by yourselves? You're better off slitting your own throats now instead of playing something as retarded as a hero."
Cold, callous, and cruel words were accompanied by a sneer that should have never fit a child's face.
Naruto grit his teeth, his anger coloring his face as he glared at the cynical boy who stared at him like he was nothing but a blubbering idiot. He nearly lost his temper if it weren't for a right hand holding him back by the shoulder.
"Inari-san, you shouldn't be saying such mean-spirited things. You know they're only trying to help you and your family; they're fighting for your happiness after all. There's no need to snap back at them like they're the enemy. They just want to help."
Inari's stiffened as he found himself being talked to by him. The fake hero being praised by everyone for nothing more than surviving. A pale imitation of someone far more deserving of the spot he inhabited.
The icy sheets roamed over to another spiky-haired boy, a random nobody who had shown up out of nowhere and tagged along for the hell of it. Someone whose very sight, whose very voice, whose very eyes irritated him to his core. A heavily bandaged boy who had fought against Gato's men destroyed one of his territories and lived to tell the tale.
Kamijou Touma.
The hero.
The new champion.
"Shut up."
It was a whisper barely heard but caught by everyone at the table. Tsunami grew concerned as she noticed Inari's shoulders tremble as he stared down at his feet with a dark shadow cast over his face.
His voice burned and seethed, practically spitting out like foul pus oozing out of his scornful heart.
"Help? What makes you think they're helping at all? All they're doing is building up everyone's hopes just so Gato can make them all the more hurt when they're hope is brought down. There's no fighting him, you'll just die with lies on your lips trying. Stop lying to everyone with false promises and cheer to cover your inability to save us. You're not heroes, so stop trying to make yourselves out as anything more than suicidal morons who can't even die right."
A hero was just a make-believe figure better off abandoned in fairy tales. Reality had no such heroes to save them. Inari knew that now and he refused to be lied to again.
That sweet, childish, warm, and bright naivety had died alongside his father.
"You think that it's too late to fight back then? That it would be better if you ran away instead of risking your life against an overbearing obstacle?"
Of course, it was, why even ask such a stupid question?
Touma smiled softly as he left his seat and wandered up to Inari who refused to look at him as he stood in front of him.
"If you really think so then why are you still here?"
Inari struggled to say anything back to such a question.
Shut up.
"For all your warnings and insults for us all to save ourselves from a pointless death, you're still here. That's got to say something about your desire to stand your ground instead of running away. Even without a hero, you're still here holding down the fort like your ojiji-san and kaa-san are. That's a pretty brave thing to do. You're even kinder for trying to steer us clear of danger no matter how resentful your words are."
Shut.
Up.
A bandaged left hand gingerly patted Inari's head as their owner grinned brightly at the silent boy.
"I know you aren't a bad kid, Inari-san. You've just been put through a shitty situation that's left a bad taste in your mouth. I can understand that; I'm not a fan of the word hero either. After all, you don't need a hero to stand up against injustice, even an ordinary guy without any special powers or talent can stand up and fight for what he cares for with all his heart-"
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
"SHUT UPPPPPPPPP!"
The sound of Inari slapping Touma's hand off echoed in the dining room. Touma flinched as he took a step back, massaging his stinging hand as Inari hatefully glared at him with tears in his eyes.
Inari's body was trembling with visible anger directed at Touma, his small fists clenched tightly at his sides as he spat angrily.
A shadow of hate and anger clouded his childish face, morphing a little boy into a livid demon who could only see red.
"Who do you think you are?! You're not my Tou-san, you don't have any right to talk to me as if you know a damn thing about me or my family! Just because you lived doesn't make you out as some hero. That's not fair. It's not fair!"
"Leave Ryu-sama alone, you big meanie!"
The shark-faced girl quickly jumped out of her seat, her malnourished and frail body quickly putting itself between the furious Inari and the stunned Touma.
She was supposed to be older than him but due to lack of nutrition, she was only a few inches taller than him. She spread her thin arms lacking any threatening muscles out, almost as if she was acting as a shield. And she glared at him furiously, showing her sharp teeth like a snarling dog whose master had been attacked right in front of their eyes.
Another idiot who fell for a naive and terrible lie.
Even if Inari was being stared at disapprovingly, glared at heatedly, or seen sadly with grief, his anger wouldn't dim. The sharp-toothed girl didn't scare him.
Every word that left Kamijou Touma's mouth further drove a nail into Inari's heart. They were the same words his father would have spoken to him if he was here. But he was dead. Killed for sticking his neck out for this country and its people he failed to protect.
Now this pale imitation of that hero was talking down to him, speaking to Inari as if he knew what he was going through, treating him like a child to be pitied, and promising the same promise his father had made to him.
It wasn't fair.
IT WASN'T FAIR!
Something ugly, sick, selfish, and tragic spurned by resentment popped like a diseased boil.
"It's not fair! Why did my Tou-san have to die but you got to live?! WHY COULDN'T YOU BE THE ONE TO DIE INSTEAD?!"
"INARI-KUN!"
The words of a child had never sounded so cruel. It was no different from the foulest curse.
The Konoha ninjas were left dumbfounded in shock and disbelief. Even the cool-faced Uchiha Sasuke's coal-black eyes had widened slightly in his own show of surprise.
Not a word was said after the mother's reprimanding cry. No one dared to say a word.
Least of all from the now expressionless Kamijou Touma who had frozen as still as a statue.
Inari's words were screamed out of deep pain, loneliness, and grief left behind in the absence of Inari's one and only hero. He had said them in denial of Touma's existence, believing that it wasn't fair that between his father and some stranger, both of whom spoke and fought for the happiness of others, it was his father who failed to come through with his promise.
Inari didn't want heroes, he wanted his father!
The morbid shock on everyone's faces didn't mean a damn to him. They could all stare and lecture him all they want. Inari didn't care as he focused all his hate on the melancholic-faced Touma who wasn't worthy of standing where his dad should have stood.
It wasn't fair that Kaiza was the one to have died and be made a liar. It wasn't fair that Touma was the one to have lived and proved his word was stronger. It wasn't fair that the people of his village now looked at both Touma and the Konoha ninja as heroes.
The one to be seen as a hero, the one to be picking Inari up, the one to be giving the people strength to fight back against Gato's company, should have been Kaiza!
SLAP!
The tears on Inari's face froze as he held the stinging red print on his right cheek. His dark eyes were open wide in disbelief as he couldn't even cry out in pain as glanced at his mother whose hand was suspended after slapping him across the face. Tsunami's face held back tears, expressing guilt and grief at what she had done to her own child.
Her voice quivered with a cluster of emotions that cracked her heart.
"Don't you dare, ever, say such things! No matter what your reason, or pain, or right, you have no right to say such a thing that your own father would loudly reject!"
It wasn't fair.
A small voice, frail and brittle, whimpered out a sob.
"W-Why? W-why do you want Ryu-sama to die?"
Inari found a crying Otohime glaring at him, tears rolling down her sunken cheeks. Her skinny frame trembled terribly to the point one would think she would collapse.
"He saved me. When scary men kept me locked up in a nasty cell. When mean men would shake my cage and lick their lips like they wanted to eat me. When fat men wouldn't feed me. When smelly men would laugh and do disgusting things to other girls outside my cell."
Another victim of Gato's reign, one just a bit older than Inari, who had looked to be treated like a dingy stray abandoned in an alley, cried angrily with hurt in her voice.
"Ryu-sama saved me! When no one else heard my cries, he saved me! So, I won't let another mean demon take anything else from me!"
D-Demon?
One word, a single character, had materialized into a physical blow to knock the breath out of the angry cynical boy.
Inari's eyes grew hazed with tears that burned hotter than any flame he had felt. He hiccuped with the loss of his voice that had shriveled up the moment his mother struck him. His small finger nearly tore through the side of his pants he had gripped terribly with a trembling hold. He wanted nothing more than to shout, scream, yell, and sob.
His mother hit him. Tsunami's own child. And a random girl who had been tormented by Gato's men had called him out as a demon.
Through the melting sheets of seething anger and pain, Inari saw eyes full of disappointment, pity, anger, and even grief.
Shame stabbed at little Inari's consciousness, growing stronger as he noticed everyone at the dinner table staring at him like he was the problem. Like he was the howling freak who didn't belong. As if he had no right to be crying or cursing them out.
But when his blurry gaze found Touma though, he found none of those solemn or angry emotions in the older boy's eyes.
What Inari had seen had been the snapping break in his mind that made him turn away and run, run away from his mother, grandfather, and guests with a muffled sob he fought desperately to contain.
What Inari had seen was not anger at being struck, not pity at the young boy who missed his father, or disappointment in his cynical thoughts and attitude.
Guilt.
The face of someone who owned up to pain and suffering he was witnessing as if it was their fault and his right to accept whatever punishment they were given.
[-]
Touma sat back down at the quiet dining table with a heavy weight on his shoulders. The ache in his left hand was nothing to what he felt after watching Inari run back to his room with stifled sobs as Tsunami cried out to him and followed after him with apologies.
After he calmed down the sobbing Otohime and promised he wasn't going anywhere, he noticed how all the commotion had worn her out. She was thin and malnourished. She had eaten enough food to remind him of a dieting Index. It was only natural for her to begin to nod off in his arms as she hugged him tightly.
He had taken her to her bed mat to sleep. All while he carried the shameful guilt on his heavy shoulders.
He'd screwed up. His big mouth had created the pain in the cynical boy's heart.
It was his fault for overreaching in a matter he had no right to involve himself in.
"Don't blame yourself for what happened, Kamijou-kun. Sadly the topic of heroes has always been a very sensitive topic in this house."
Tazuna sighed as he scratched the bald spot on his head. The old bridge builder decided this was as good as time as ever for even more sake. Pouring himself a hearty portion, he leaned his head back and downed the rich rice alcohol with a bitter grimace.
"While it's only been recent that Tsunami's stance on that word has weakened, thanks to a certain teenager's actions, Inari-kun's a highly volatile powder keg that will explode at the mere mention. He's been like that ever since Gato's Company arrived and took over."
"Is it because of Kaiza-san?"
Tazuna stiffened at the mere mention of said man Touma had found bits and pieces of. The old weathered man swished the sake in his cup somberly, his eyes shining with a forgotten light. He seemed to be remembering a time long ago that once brought him joy but now only brought him pain.
"Kaiza-san?" Sakura blinked at the mystery name that brought a visible change to Tazuna's demeanor. A thought struck her of something she had noticed throughout dinner. She glanced past Touma, Naruto, and Sasuke to the wall behind them to a spot Inari had been staring at throughout dinner, "Would that be the person whose face is ripped out of the photo Inari's been looking at this whole time?"
"Hmm, that would be Inari's father and Tsunami's husband. He was a bit of a legend back in the day." Tazuna melancholy smiled as set down his drink. He leaned into his fist, gazing ahead at memories that brought a sweet bitterness to his being as he spoke.
"I suppose I should have explained our family history a bit if you were to be staying here. It was my mistake, mine to accept out of a fear of rising back to forgotten times that always accompany grief in my family. If I had explained then maybe Inari-kun wouldn't have lashed out if you understood the core of his loneliness and grief."
Tazuna's voice cracked near the end as a lone tear fell from his eye.
Touma listened closely as the rest of Team-7 waited for Tazuna to gather the strength to continue with the tale of a man known only as Kaiza; a name that brought Tazuna's family great pain, a name that had been spoken bitterly in regret by Zori, a name that brought strength to Midori, and a name that had greatly satisfied Gato.
Once again, Touma felt an invisible presence slip in.
And incline their head bitterly.
"Long ago, this small island nation had a hero..."
The night was one of sadness, tragedy, sympathy, and a renewed strength to fight. It was the night that the tale of Kaiza of Nami no Kuni was told to the ninja of Konohagakure no Sato and the 'foreigner' of an unknown land.
It was the night that a certain fist had nearly broken itself to pieces in rage.
The fissure in your heart grows ever wider the further you blindly rush into the fray.
Loneliness can be a terrible pain. Even though you are surrounded, there is no one who understands you or loves you dearly. So, what reason do you have to fight to the point your body drops?
There once was a hero, a champion of a nation. A loving father, a caring husband, and a strong man who would fight for the smiles of even a random stranger on the streets. He too stood up to a greedy demon lord.
And died.
What makes you any different?
Why did you survive?
Man, that took me some time to finally finish. This is funny to say, considering I finished this arc when I first uploaded the first chapter.
And then scrapped everything after the fourth chapter and re-wrote everything. Which set me back an entire year.
It genuinely makes me happy to see people continue to message me to update. I'm pretty sure there are many who believe my stories are dead. Let me put those fears to rest; they ain't dead.
But I am. Dead tired and worn out. I'm 27 years old; the manager of a small mom-and-pop deli, with low staff, and hungry, hungry, guests coming in droves to eat custom-made sandwiches, drink coffee and eat giant grilled and buttered muffins. I won't even get into catering; god damn it, did ya really think I could make over 500 hundred sandwiches in over a day with only 6-7 people?!
I'm growing gray hairs in my late twenties here. It's no wonder I've started to drink every day and found a local bar to ease the stress away.
Because of these tiring days, I find myself too tired to write. I'll try to crack my laptop open, type a few things, but usually find myself feeling fatigued and end up either dozing off or watching TV. I've been getting easily distracted and even try to get my writing spirits up by reading some old fics. God knows its been hard finding some new fics I can enjoy that are decently written.
Now, back to the writing side of things.
The end of Nami no Kuni's arc is nearing its finale. We got one more chapter before we dive into the closing chapter and its epilogue. This chapter serves more like the aftermath of the fall of Sector-D and the effects of Gato losing one of his main bases. It deals with explaining why Gato wouldn't immediately strike back after suffering such a sudden loss, which I hoped to have done well.
I also wanted to dive a bit more into Touma's inner turmoil.
Ya know, what little fanfics dwelling into Xovers with ToAru, starring Touma, never really touch on a certain important trait of his character.
That, without Index and Othinus, or his friends and family, he's a really lonely guy. A boy who is always absorbing malice and grief from his surroundings isn't exactly a bright kid who is always grinning with a sunny disposition. I mean, yeah, he's a kindhearted guy who genuinely loves helping others and feels happy to see people smile, but that by no way means he's the kind of person who wouldn't be affected if he were to lose those people who gave him purpose.
What fics I read involving Touma being transported to another world, have never touched on how he feels. He seems to act his normal self, unshaken and acting just like he usually would.
I can't see that. Not from the boy who had grown to be so selfish as to discard an entire world where nothing but smiles could be found.
To me, he wouldn't survive. His character wouldn't survive. I think there was a passage I read in NT that described Touma very well; that he was this bunny who would die of loneliness if he had no one.
So, I scattered these bits and pieces of that loneliness, these small cracks that threaten to break him.
And Sector-D was the stage where those cracks would widen and do the most damage. Here, we got to see how the lonely boy with none to understand him or love him, could slowly devolve into bloodying his own hands with weapons and fought with a budding desire to hurt, not save. If it hadn't been for Zori, if he hadn't found something to empathize with, if he had simply fought some run-of-the-mill demon who genuinely found pleasure in abusing others for his own smile, it may have been too much.
Malice and loneliness could have caused an irreparable change to his kind nature.
The talk between Touma and Tsunami was one I had done over at least twice. If I remember the first draft that was written a year ago, it was too comical in certain parts, lacked meaning, and was just too heroic. It just didn't seem to fit at all with what had happened to the two or how they must have felt. There was emotion, but the emotion just seemed off. For one, Touma's explanation for why he did what he did, had come off as cliche and sappy. Tsunami had forgiven him too easily because of the speech that made him off as right, and her wrong.
I couldn't accept that. Not after re-reading it and letting it sit for so long.
So, I rewrote it. And I think this came off a bit better than the original route I had.
Ah, our lovely dark-skinned Kyofu-chan has left the party. Too suddenly, in my opinion. I wonder where she went.
And speaking of new characters!
Yes, yes I did. I brought in a shark-girl. And I did have to name her after the sorely seen Otohime; because, why not? So much to say, so much I want to spoil. But we can't do any more than introduce her and see how she fits into the story as we move on.
And finally, Inari.
Man, oh, man! I'm loving working with his character. Now that I'm older, better understanding of his situation, and have grown as a writer and storyteller, I understand him. I get it.
Being lied to by someone you loved with all your heart...fucking hurts. Even if they never meant to do so. Even if it was out of their control. Even if they tried with all their heart to keep their promise. It still fucking hearts. And at a young age, where you're still learning about the world and find those early experiences and trauma shape who you are, I really do get it.
Heroes are selfish. They are most likely to die. They never stick around and even put others before the ones they love.
Inari is a child who had to watch the man he loved like his real father, die in front of his eyes. Because he was his hero. Because he was everyone's hero. And he failed to live up to that title. To that little boy, he had been lied to by the person he adored most. That's got to suck.
Now, to see another person who acted the same, smiled the same, and spoke the same way, fight the same fight as his father did, and win?
How was the fair? How was that spiky-haired boy more deserving? What made him more worthy of being praised as the hero or champion? How was that any different than spitting in his face?
We'll dwell more into this little matter as we close this arc.
We're moving up to the lead-up to the last three chapters.
It's going to be a wild ride~! We got ourselves a nice little awakening coming up!
...yes, I am excited for Xenoblade Chronicles 3. What gave it away?
Next up, I'm working towards uploading A Certain Influx of Time Traveling Mishaps, and then A Certain Unfortunate Trainer. I'm doing my best to make it out of work every day with a bit more energy to get back to writing! Even if it means breaking my doctor's orders to keep my coffee intake to one a day so that I don't overdose on caffeine for the third time.
If anyone ever wants to talk, I'm usually free to talk from time to time on Steam. I'm under NeoShadows; Friend Code#343603205. I've already made a few friends there and have enjoyed talking to them, so don't be afraid to stop by with a message! I'll get back to ya...eventually.
Remember to Read and Review! It's common courtesy.
NeoShadows fading in and out.
