Kihone felt a rush of unfamiliar pride in his newly learned metal ball-spinning technique when Izanagi praised him. He turned his nose up toward the moon and grinned, "Heh heh! It is pretty cool, huh?" He drew his bamboo stick and went ahead a bit while Izanagi walked and practiced the Shadowing Stealth Technique too. He kept his eyes ahead and darting to their peripherals, taking his turn as the point man while his brother was focused elsewhere.
He actually did lose sight of Izanagi for a moment before he reappeared at his side, causing him to flinch a little. "Wah? Cheating?! Nah uhhh! That's not what that jutsu does anyway!" He playfully tapped his brother on top of the head with his stick, "It doesn't make you invisible, I-ZA-NA-GI! It just makes you less noticeable, Baka-nagi!. Invisibility is definitely gotta be a super ninja's jutsu." Kiho restrained a chuckle at his brother's pouting but sighed when it turned into him deciding he didn't need it because it wasn't as cool as his levitating power. His tone changed from their usual slap-stick, back and forth childish satire into a much more heartfelt one, "Well, you are Izanagi the Blade Master, but wouldn't also make sense to master sneaky stuff if you're also the Shadow King? Koroto did say that there's always more than one way to fight. We might as well learn how to do most of them that we like mostest!" He really tried to cheer his brother up here, but before long Izanagi was focused on where they were going again.
Izanagi went a few steps ahead again to calm down and refocus on their exploration quest. Kihone decided to use this moment to review a slightly more difficult technique's hand seals. He holstered his bamboo stick at his side again and mumbled to himself, "Nobody else at the school has gotten this one down yet, but maybe if..." He finished molding chakra with the last hand sign, similarly to how he'd applied chakra throughout his body for the Shadowing Stealth technique he learned with his brother. "Transform!" Unlike the sloppy attempts that his peers had been producing, the few that had figured out chakra manipulation at all anyway, Kihone managed to turn into the image he had in his head of big brother Koroto. 'So this is what it's like to be tall like big bro. I can't wait to grow up too!' He momentarily had the idea to try and surprise Izanagi, but he didn't want to make his brother more upset so he just released the transformation and caught up instead.
Kihone nodded along as Izanagi once again pointed out the obvious about where they were. "A-are we sure we don't want to just go back home now? The other villagers really seem scarred of t-this place. I really hope there aren't actually bad guys in there." He shut right the heck up when Izanagi said he heard someone or something prowling at the edge of the partly clouded moonlight lighting that ruined outskirts of Sunagakure. Kihone quickly assumed his preferred fighting stance with his bamboo stick in one hand by his hip. The tip was pointed at what him imagined would be the center of the unknown enemy's chest. The boy's knees were slightly bent while he stayed light on his toes. This would making movement faster and dodging easier, just like used to deflect most of the strikes when he sparred with Izanagi earlier.
Kihone's teal eyes also scanned their surroundings and even behind them... a few times just to be extra sure. "We should keep moving, Nagi. Koro-niisan always said to find a place to hide and keep moving without being seen if we're scared or in trouble." Kihone tapped Izanagi on the shoulder to stir him from his stance as he make a sprint toward the cover of some other buildings. It seemed like a good idea to get off of the main roads, even if they were completely buried under the dunes. Rather than leave like his conscience was screaming for him to at least consider, Kihone would take the lead deeper into the ruins. His heart was racing, but he figured that if they were in any immediate danger it would've been super obvious by now.
The journey to Sorei had been long and arduous, the heat of the Land of Wind’s desert sun a stark contrast to the damp, cool air of the Land of Water. Seijun Koga wiped the sweat from his brow as he crested another dune, his gaze locked on the horizon. The massive earthen walls of Sorei rose in the distance, illuminated by the morning sun’s golden light. They hadn’t been there moments ago, their sudden appearance stirring unease in his chest. The walls were almost too perfect, too sudden. “Illusion techniques, perhaps,” he murmured to himself, his hand briefly brushing the hilt of his katana. “Whatever it is, I’ll know soon enough.”
Seijun’s intel had brought him here after demolishing a bandit stronghold in the Land of Water. The bandits there had spoken of a grander plan-an orchestrated effort to wipe out the last remnants of peace in the Land of Wind. Sorei was their final target. Though the villagers remained blissfully unaware of the coming storm, Seijun felt the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders. This was not the first time he had stepped into the role of protector, but the stakes felt higher with each passing day.
As he approached the village, he noted the telltale signs of hardship: cracked fields, simple dwellings patched with scavenged materials, and wary faces peeking from behind curtains. Sorei was hanging on by a thread. Seijun’s resolve solidified. If the villagers didn’t know what was coming, he would be the one to prepare them, to stand against the tide. But first, he would need to understand the mystery of those walls.
The desert stretched endlessly in all directions, its smooth dunes reflecting the harsh light of the morning sun. But just beyond Sorei, the landscape changed. What had appeared to be barren wasteland at first now resembled an oasis, lush with greenery and shimmering pools of water. Seijun’s brows furrowed as he scanned the scene. The vision was too abrupt, too unnatural. He had traveled the Land of Wind before, and he knew the desert offered no such reprieve. “A mirage,” he thought at first, but the clarity of the image gnawed at his instincts. It wasn’t just an oasis-it was something crafted, meticulously designed.
The closer he got, the more certain he became that this was no natural phenomenon. The greenery appeared too deliberate, the placement of trees and water too symmetrical. Seijun’s sharp eyes caught subtle details-unusual patterns in the sand and faint chakra signatures emanating from the area. “A shinobi’s work,” he muttered. But whose? And why? The walls behind Sorei had already struck him as peculiar, and now this. The pieces of a larger puzzle began to form in his mind, but the full picture eluded him. For now, he would remain cautious, his every sense attuned to the possibility of deception.
- Flashback -
At eighteen, Seijun’s first foray into rebellion was far from the calculated precision he would later become known for. The border town he had stumbled upon was nothing more than a collection of broken down homes, its people crushed under the boot of a cruel lord. Slaves worked the fields under the scorching sun, their faces hollow with exhaustion. The sight reminded Seijun too much of Kosei, of what his friend had endured before gaining even a sliver of freedom. Driven by a mix of anger and nativity, Seijun resolved to act.
Under the cover of night, he slipped into the lord’s estate. The plan was simple in theory: free the captives, incapacitate the guards, and escape before anyone realized what had happened. But as Seijun crept through the estate’s shadowy corridors, the weight of his inexperience became glaringly apparent. His steps were too loud on the polished wooden floors, and the faint clink of his katana’s scabbard against his hip alerted a nearby guard. A shout echoed through the halls, and within moments, the estate was alive with the sound of pursuit.
Seijun’s heart pounded as he darted into a storeroom, his mind racing. He’d underestimated the number of guards and overestimated his ability to remain undetected. Worse, the slaves he’d come to rescue were being rounded up, their frightened cries cutting through the chaos. Seijun clenched his fists tightly. He couldn’t abandon them, but a direct confrontation would be suicide. Searching the room, his eyes fell on a pile of oil jars. An idea formed, reckless but necessary.
Using the oil, Seijun created a slick trap at the entrance to the storeroom. When the guards burst in, their footing faltered, and they tumbled to the ground in a heap. Seijun seized the opportunity, knocking them unconscious with the hilt of his katana. He grabbed the keys from one of the guards and made his way to the holding area. The sight of the captives, dirty, malnourished, and terrified, stirred a mix of fury and guilt within him. “I’m getting you out,” he promised, unlocking the doors.
As the captives followed him, the group’s size made stealth impossible. Guards swarmed the corridors, and in the chaos, Seijun fought desperately to protect the escaping slaves. His movements were clumsy compared to the trained shinobi he faced, and a kunai grazed his shoulder, drawing blood. Pain flared, but he pressed on, using every ounce of his strength and ingenuity to keep the guards at bay. Some of the captives were recaptured, their screams haunting him as he led the rest to safety outside the estate.
By the time Seijun and the survivors reached the edge of the border town, the sky was streaked with the first light of dawn. He collapsed to his knees, exhaustion and guilt washing over him. He’d failed to save everyone. The weight of their loss pressed heavily on his heart, but a small voice broke through his despair. “Thank you,” one of the freed captives said, their voice trembling with gratitude. Others echoed the sentiment, their expressions a mix of relief and hope.
It wasn’t enough to erase the pain of those he’d lost, but it was enough to fuel his resolve. Seijun swore that day to grow stronger, to learn from his mistakes, and to never let his inexperience cost lives again. The journey ahead would be long, but he would carry the memory of that night with him, a reminder of the stakes and the price of failure. He would honor the lives he couldn’t save by becoming the protector they had needed.
As Seijun stood at the edge of the desert, his gaze lingering on the distant earthen walls of Sorei, his thoughts wandered back to that chaotic night in the lord’s estate. It had been a baptism by fire, a moment that stripped away any illusions he had about heroism. His clumsy attempts at stealth and combat had cost lives- innocent people who had placed their hopes in him. The memory of their anguished cries haunted him still, but it was their gratitude, the whispered "thank yous" from those he had saved, that stayed with him. It was a bitter truth he had come to understand: even the best intentions could lead to failure, but a single act of courage could still change the course of someone’s life.
From that night, Seijun had learned the value of preparation and patience. Rash decisions, no matter how noble the cause, could turn an advantage into ruin. He remembered the fire in his chest as he fought to protect the captives, the sharp sting of the kunai grazing his skin. Pain had been a harsh teacher, and it taught him to read situations with clarity, to think beyond his emotions. But the lesson that shaped him most was the power of persistence and of standing firm even when the odds seemed insurmountable. It wasn’t the flawless victory he had dreamed of, but it was the moment that forged his resolve. That resolve carried him now, propelling him now toward Sorei with the weight of responsibility and the strength to face what lay ahead.
---
0 chakra used •
Kazuma Of The Wind
Enduring Husband
Offline
Kazuma Of The Wind
Enduring Husband
Offline
Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2025 10:43 am
The village of Sorei came into view as Seijun approached over the final stretch of the desert. Unlike the massive earthen walls in the distance, which still loomed faintly on the horizon, Sorei itself was a cluster of weather-beaten huts barely holding together against the relentless winds. The villagers were thin, their clothing patched and threadbare, their faces drawn from years of struggle. It was clear they were hanging on by a thread, their survival a testament to their resilience in the face of near insurmountable odds. As Seijun entered the village, the weight of his presence caused an immediate ripple. Villagers froze in their tasks, their eyes darting toward him before quickly turning away. Whispers followed in his wake, and he could feel their fear as tangibly as the desert’s heat on his back. A few bold souls eventually stepped forward, their nervousness evident in the tremor of their voices. These were the ones willing to trust a stranger, even one who looked as dangerous as Seijun.
They spoke hesitantly at first, explaining the village’s dire situation. Food was scarce, and their attempts to cultivate the dry, cracked earth yielded little more than bitterness. Their water supply, drawn from a single, dwindling well, was barely enough to sustain them. Worse still, illness had spread among the children and elderly, and their stock of medicine had been depleted months ago. As the villagers shared their struggles, Seijun took mental inventory, his years of experience teaching him to piece together the truth between the lines. He gently steered the conversation toward their future, asking what they wished for beyond mere survival. At first, the answers were cautious: hopes for more food, stronger walls, and clean water. But as they spoke, their voices began to hold a flicker of something long buried: dreams. A safe village, children running freely, and a life without fear.
Listening to them, Seijun’s suspicions deepened. From the intelligence he’d gathered, the eradication order against these people reeked of corruption. The bandits he’d interrogated in Kirigakure had hinted at alliances with powerful shinobi who had everything to gain by ensuring Sorei’s destruction. Looking into the faces of the villagers, Seijun resolved that no matter the cost, he would stand between them and the forces that sought to erase their existence. As Seijun listened to the villagers and surveyed their meager surroundings, his mind turned to the question that had nagged him since he first uncovered the eradication order: what could anyone possibly gain from overtaking this desolate land? Sorei had no strategic resources, no wealth, and no armies to threaten another nation. It was little more than a speck on the map, clinging to existence at the edge of the Land of Wind’s unforgiving desert.
He retraced the threads of his intelligence, recalling the words of the bandits he had interrogated in Kirigakure. They had spoken of power plays and alliances, but their boasts had been maddeningly vague. A prize worth blood, one had said before falling unconscious. Another had hinted at a secret buried deep in the desert, a treasure known only to those willing to kill for it. Seijun had dismissed the claims as the delusions of desperate men, but now, staring at the villagers who had nothing left to give, he wondered if there was more to the story.
Sorei’s proximity to the vast desert dunes seemed to hold part of the answer. Shinobi nations often sought to control hidden assets- unclaimed jutsu scrolls, mineral deposits, or ancient relics with untapped potential. If rumors of such a prize had reached the ears of corrupt leaders, it wouldn’t matter that Sorei itself was inconsequential. The village would be erased without a second thought, its people sacrificed for the sake of ambition. Yet, the explanation didn’t sit well with Seijun. Even with their greed, shinobi conspirators typically pursued larger prizes than a forgotten village in the middle of nowhere. There had to be more at play, something deeper. Perhaps Sorei’s people held knowledge or secrets they didn’t even realize were valuable. Perhaps the bandits and their allies sought to erase evidence of a crime or to prevent Sorei’s survival as a symbol of defiance against tyranny. Whatever the reason, Seijun knew he was missing a piece of the puzzle.
Looking once more at the distant walls and the vulnerable village before him, Seijun resolved to dig deeper. The answers were out there, somewhere between the whispers of terrified villagers and the cryptic warnings of dying men. Whatever the truth, it was tied to Sorei, and Seijun intended to uncover it before the storm descended.
---
0 chakra used •
Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2025 8:49 pm
Seijun’s gaze lingered on the barren horizon, the massive earthen walls a faint silhouette far in the distance. Though foreboding, they seemed too far removed to pose an immediate threat to Sorai. He carefully scanned the area for signs of danger: disturbed sand that might indicate recent movement, glints of metal that could belong to weapons, or the distant hum of activity from bandits. But the desert was unnervingly still, the oppressive heat cloaking the land in an eerie quiet. The absence of threats brought him a measure of relief, though his mind remained wary. He thought of the villagers' haunted expressions, their palpable fear rooted in years of hardship and loss. For now, they had been spared another attack. He allowed himself a moment to exhale, silently vowing to use this temporary reprieve to aid them in any way he could.
As Seijun returned to the center of Sorai, his focus shifted to the people themselves. Approaching the most visibly distressed among them, he spoke softly, his tone calm but firm. “You have nothing to fear. I am trained in the the art of medical techniques,” he said, ensuring his words carried a soothing weight. “I’m here to help.” His hands hovered just above their injuries, invisible waves of chakra extending from his palms. Though they couldn’t see his efforts, the warmth of his touch and the immediate relief it brought began to earn him hesitant trust.
One by one, Seijun tended to the villagers, beginning with the young boy whose mother had hesitantly carried him forward. The boy’s leg was swollen and discolored, a festering wound that had been left untreated for too long. Seijun knelt to examine the injury, his voice calm and steady as he reassured the mother. “This will take time, but I’ll do everything I can,” he said, glancing at the boy’s frightened eyes. With a cloth soaked in water, he began gently cleaning the area, removing dirt and sand that had aggravated the infection. The boy whimpered, and Seijun paused, placing a hand on his knee. "Bear with the pain for a little longer. It will go away soon."
Channeling his chakra, Seijun placed his hands just above the wound. He focused on driving out the poison, feeling it resist as though clinging stubbornly to the tissue. His brow furrowed in concentration as his chakra pushed deeper, isolating the toxins and neutralizing them. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but he continued until the discoloration faded and the swelling receded. Finally, he directed his chakra to stimulate the cells, encouraging the flesh to knit itself back together. When the boy wiggled his toes and looked at his mother with wide, relieved eyes, Seijun allowed himself a small smile. “Back to normal after some well deserved rest,” he said softly.
An elderly woman approached next, supported by her granddaughter. Her steps were slow, and her sunken cheeks spoke of weeks spent in the oppressive heat with insufficient water. She lowered herself to the ground with a wince, leaning heavily on the girl beside her. “She’s been too weak to eat,” the granddaughter explained, her voice trembling. Seijun nodded, placing his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “Let me help cool you down first,” he said gently.
Seijun closed his eyes and extended his chakra, feeling the heat radiating from her body. It was a delicate process. Too much cooling could shock her system, but too little would do nothing to ease her suffering. He directed his chakra to lower her core temperature gradually, monitoring her breathing and pulse as he worked. The woman’s tense muscles began to relax, and her labored breaths became steadier. “There,” Seijun whispered gently. "You'll be good as new soon. Try to get some rest, too.” He reached into his pack, producing a small canteen of water and instructing the granddaughter to help her drink in slow sips.
As he moved from person to person, Seijun felt the strain of his efforts building, but he refused to let it slow him down. A thin and malnourished man with a deep gash across his arm sat stoically as Seijun cleaned and sealed the wound, his chakra knitting the torn muscle and skin together. A woman with cracked, bleeding hands from harvesting what little remained of their crops was soothed as Seijun infused her skin with healing hands. Each act of healing brought him closer to the villagers, their wary gazes softening into something that almost resembled hope.
Once the immediate medical needs were addressed, Seijun turned his attention to another pressing issue: hunger. He retrieved dried food from his pack, rationing it carefully as he distributed it among the villagers. Some hesitated, their pride keeping them from reaching out, but Seijun knelt before them, placing the food in their hands with quiet assurance. “This is yours,” he said. “Eat and regain your strength. You’ll need it for later.” Walking through the village, Seijun spotted children huddled in a corner, their eyes hollow with hunger. He crouched before them, offering small pieces of bread and dried fruit. “It’s not much,” he admitted, “but it’ll help you feel stronger.” As they accepted the food with trembling hands, Seijun couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He wished he could do more, but for now, this would have to be enough. With every bite they took, he felt a flicker of satisfaction, knowing he had made a small difference.
By the time the last morsel was handed out, the sun was only at midday, painting the desert in nothing more than bright light and strong shadows. Seijun stood in the center of Sorai, exhaustion tugging at his limbs, but he refused to rest. These people had endured more suffering than he could fathom, and though his efforts were but a drop in the vast ocean of their needs, he vowed to stay and continue until they were healthy again. He'd sit on the ground near what was left of a tree trunk and think on things he'd done in his past. Various medical situations that gave him the ability to stand tall now was where his mind would go while he recovered a bit before his continued mission.
- Flashback -
The memory remained vivid, a harsh lesson seared into his mind. The traveler had staggered into his camp at dusk, their arm swollen and streaked with dark veins. They collapsed at Seijun’s feet, rasping incoherently about a venomous strike from a desert scorpion. The sight of their ashen complexion made his pulse quicken, but he forced himself to focus. He'd trained for this-weeks spent learning the intricacies of chakra-based poison extraction-but now, faced with the rapid spread of venom, doubt crept in. His hands hovered over the wound as he pushed chakra into the infected tissue. The venom fought him, clinging stubbornly to the bloodstream, and every second felt like an eternity. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he worked, adjusting the flow of his chakra to carefully draw the poison out without harming the surrounding tissue. A faint tremor ran through him as the venom finally surfaced, forming a dark liquid that he expelled onto the sand. The traveler’s breathing steadied, but Seijun’s hands trembled from the sheer effort. He collapsed to his knees, realizing how close he had come to failure.
---
The scene was chaos. A child’s weak cries pierced the thick air of the outpost as a father pleaded for someone to save his son. Seijun stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the boy’s pale face. Blood loss had drained him to the brink of death from an earlier attack by bandits, and though the father was willing to donate his blood, the crude medical equipment had failed them. Seijun knelt beside the boy, a knot tightening in his chest. This wasn’t a controlled environment or a theoretical exercise; it was life and death. He closed his eyes, connecting his chakra to the father and son, creating a delicate bridge. Blood flowed through the connection, but the strain was unlike anything he had experienced. The boy convulsed, his body struggling to accept the transfusion. Seijun gritted his teeth, adjusting the chakra flow to stabilize the transfer. The precision required in real time was hard to maintain. Time stretched endlessly as he monitored both patients, his own reserves depleting rapidly. It was like starting over from scratch each time in his mind. He feared for the coming failure. When the boy’s breathing finally evened out, Seijun slumped forward, too drained to even celebrate his success.
---
The aftermath of the battle was devastating. His team lay scattered, their chakra reserves depleted to dangerous levels. They had escaped the ambush, but another attack was imminent. They needed to recover much quicker than most thought possible. Seijun knew only one way to help them, though he had never attempted it on multiple people or in a situation quiet like this one. He wasn't as young anymore, but still medical processes were his hardest lessons. They were especially hard when it came to keeping someone from dying. This time it included himself.
He began with the team’s leader, his hands pressing into key chakra points on their body. Chakra flowed through his fingertips, coaxing the body’s natural reserves to regenerate. It was an excruciatingly slow process, and his own chakra waned with each passing moment. By the time he reached the third teammate, his vision blurred, and his hands felt like lead. Still, he pushed forward, knowing failure would mean death for all of them in the next attack. As the last shinobi stirred, their chakra replenished enough to stand, Seijun collapsed to the ground. The gratitude in their eyes was worth every ounce of pain, but the experience left him with a new understanding of his limits and the strength required to surpass them.
Seijun now sat beneath the sparse shade of a dying tree, his back pressed against its gnarled trunk. The midday sun bore down mercilessly, yet he felt a faint solace in the brittle shelter the tree offered. His eyes scanned the horizon, where the wavering heat distorted the dunes, and his mind wandered back to the memories that had surfaced throughout the morning. Each one carried its own weight, a fragment of his journey etched into his very being. He reflected on the challenges that had shaped him, moments of near failure that had tested his will to endure and his capacity to learn. The desperation of pulling poison from a young girl's veins, the precision required to balance the life of a child against the strength of a father, the delicate yet critical work of restoring chakra to a spent shinobi; all of it had been a crucible. They were trials that left scars on his soul, yet he bore them with quiet gratitude.
These experiences, though frightening, had given him something invaluable: the ability to save lives. The knowledge and training he had acquired were not simply tools but a gift, one forged through pain, perseverance, and an unwavering belief that life, no matter how fleeting or fragile, was worth protecting. The faces of those he had failed still haunted him in quiet moments, but they were a reminder of why he pushed himself so relentlessly.
Leaning his head back against the tree, Seijun exhaled slowly. The villagers of Sorai were no different from the countless others he had encountered in his journey. They were people with stories, with hopes and fears, clinging to survival in a world that often seemed bent on breaking them. Seijun’s strength, both physical and emotional, was not just his own. It was a reflection of every life he had touched, every hardship he had endured to keep others from falling to despair. As he sat there, the sun blazing overhead, he allowed himself a brief moment of peace. His body ached from the morning’s work, but his heart was steady. These moments, however challenging, reminded him of his purpose. Seijun Koga was not a man driven by glory or ambition. He was a protector, one whose strength was forged in the fires of loss and tempered by the unyielding will to preserve life.
---
0 chakra used •
Techniques Learned: • Healing Hands Technique: Minor | C-Rank • Poison Removal | D-Rank • Temperature Control | C-Rank • Blood Transfusion Skill | C-Rank • Deep Muscle Massage | C-Rank
Kazuma Of The Wind
Enduring Husband
Offline
Kazuma Of The Wind
Enduring Husband
Offline
Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2025 6:15 pm
Seijun leaned against the dying tree, letting the faint rustle of the desert breeze fill the silence. The midday sun blazed overhead, but he was accustomed to extremes, and the harshness of the desert felt like a metaphor for his path. His mind drifted to the winding road that brought him here, across seas, mountains, and now, sand. Each step of that journey had tested his resolve and reshaped his understanding of the world—and himself.
The Land of Water had been his starting point, a place of mist and secrets. In the shattered remnants of a small coastal village, he had encountered a woman named Hana, whose family had been ravaged by illness after being forced into hiding by a war between bandit factions. Her young daughter, Mai, had been the worst off, her frail body gripped by a fever so severe it bordered on fatal. Seijun had spent two sleepless nights tending to her, painstakingly drawing out the illness with his medical techniques while rationing his own energy to avoid collapse. When Mai finally opened her eyes, weak but alive, Seijun had felt an ache in his chest—not of exhaustion, but of quiet joy. Hana had called him a miracle worker, but Seijun knew it was desperation that had driven him to succeed.
In the Land of Fire, Seijun had come across a traveling merchant caravan ambushed by bandits. Among the wounded was a young man named Riku, clutching his abdomen as blood pooled beneath him. The caravan’s medic had tried to staunch the bleeding but failed. Seijun had no tools, only his chakra and his hands. He had performed an improvised surgery, weaving threads of chakra into Riku’s torn blood vessels. The strain left him shaking, his vision blurred, but the gratitude in Riku’s tearful eyes was worth every ounce of pain.
By the time he reached the Land of Wind, the desert had stripped him of comfort and familiarity. There, in the harsh expanse of dunes, he had found a lone traveler named Kaiya collapsed from dehydration. Her skin was cracked, her lips blistered. Seijun had carried her on his back for hours, giving her sips of his own precious water and using his chakra to replenish her failing organs. When she recovered, she spoke of the ruins she had been searching for, ruins that whispered of forgotten peace and hidden truths.
-
As the midday sun bore down on Sorai, Seijun remained under the withering tree, pondering his next course of action. His reflection was interrupted by the low murmur of voices approaching, which quickly grew louder. A group of villagers gathered near him, their expressions etched with fear and frustration. Though not directed entirely at him, the tension was palpable.
The older man with a staff stepped forward, his voice quaking but firm. “We know why you’re here, shinobi. We’ve heard the whispers—bandits, right? Moving closer? Are they coming for us?” Seijun stood, brushing the dust from his hakama. “Yes,” he said plainly, his voice steady. “The bandits deeper in the desert have been regrouping near where Sunagakure once stood. Based on the intel I’ve gathered, they may attack soon.” This revelation sent a ripple through the crowd. Gasps and panicked murmurs broke out among the villagers, some clutching at each other as their fear spilled over. “What do they want from us?” one woman cried. “We have nothing left to take!” A younger man, his voice tight with anger and desperation, added, “They’re going to kill us all, aren’t they? Just like they’ve done to everyone else out here!”
The fragile sense of composure the villagers clung to snapped, all at once, and chaos ensued. People shouted over one another, voices rising in fear and frustration. Some called for hiding, others for fleeing into the desert. A few openly wept, while others frantically tried to organize a defense with their meager tools.
Seijun stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chaos like steel through wood. “Enough!”
The sharpness of his tone brought the villagers to a halt. The crowd turned to face him, their faces streaked with tears and flushed with fear. Seijun softened his voice, but focused his words to carry a weight of authority. “Panicking will solve nothing. I understand your fear, but I need you to focus. You’ve survived this long because you’re strong, not because you’ve fallen apart when things seemed impossible.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “If the bandits come, we will face them together. I’m here to protect you for as long as I can. But to do that, I need you to trust me and stay calm.” A tense silence followed, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the sand. Slowly, the frantic energy began to dissipate. The villagers exchanged uncertain glances, some nodding hesitantly. An elderly woman stepped forward, her voice trembling but resolute. “We’ve heard rumors about those bandits. They’ve been raiding other places, taking everything and leaving no one alive. Some said they were heading this way, but we didn’t want to believe it.” Another villager chimed in, a middle-aged man with a weakened frame. “They’re coming from the ruins of Sunagakure. We’ve seen their scouts in the distance before. It was only a matter of time. We didn't want to believe it... but it's true.”
Seijun nodded gravely, his head bowing low and lingering there for what felt like an eternity. The weight of his gesture was palpable, and the air seemed to grow heavier with the unspoken acknowledgment of the peril they faced. When he finally straightened, his gaze swept across the group, firm but gentle, as if he were measuring their resolve and silently willing it to strengthen. The pause was deliberate, stretching just long enough to make his next words hang with an almost unbearable tension. It was not hesitation but a moment for the weight of the situation to fully settle- not only in his own heart but in theirs.
Finally, his voice broke through the silence, low and steady, like the first rumble of distant thunder. “Then we have little time to prepare.” His words seemed to resonate with a finality that made the villagers flinch, their nervous shuffling ceasing as they absorbed the gravity of what was to come. “I’ve sent for help,” he continued, his tone carrying a glimmer of hope that felt fragile yet unwavering, “but until they arrive, I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.” His eyes darted across the crowd, searching for a flicker of courage, a spark of determination among their fearful expressions. “If there are shinobi among you, they’ll need to step up. There’s no room for hesitation or fear now. We stand or we fall together.”
The villagers exchanged uncertain glances, their unease rippling through the crowd like a whisper carried on the desert wind. Seijun’s voice grew firmer, not louder but deeper, a steady anchor amidst the rising tide of anxiety. “The rest of you, prepare what you can. Anything that might help—supplies, barricades, tools- use what you have. Every effort counts, no matter how small. Trust me on this.” Another silence fell, this one thick with fear and unspoken questions. Seijun’s words hung in the air, not just as orders but as a call to action, a desperate plea for unity in the face of overwhelming odds. His grave nod wasn’t just an acknowledgment of their fears but a commitment- a silent vow that he would stand with them, no matter what came.
The villagers began to rally under his words, their fear tempered by the clarity of a plan. Seijun spoke calmly but firmly as he gave directions. “Gather any weapons you have, even if they seem useless. Farming tools, knives, anything. Strengthen your shelters as much as possible for the children. I’ll patrol the outskirts to ensure no scouts come too close.” Seijun paused, his voice steady but his expression softening, allowing his gaze to meet each villager’s eyes. “I know this isn’t fair. None of this is,” he said, his words heavy with sincerity. “You’ve suffered enough already. You’ve lost your homes, your loved ones, your peace. And now, just when you’re trying to hold on to what little remains, this threat looms over you.” He glanced at the anxious faces before him- men and women clutching each other, some trembling as if the mere mention of bandits would summon them. “I know the world has failed you. It’s easy to feel like everyone’s turned their backs on you. Maybe I don’t have the right to ask anything of you after everything you’ve been through,” he admitted, his tone growing quieter, almost hesitant. “But I promise you this,” Seijun continued, his voice firming as resolve sparked in his golden eyes. “Right now, in this moment, I am here with you. I am not just some passing shinobi looking for glory or ryo. I’m here because I believe every one of you deserves a chance to live- not just tpo survive, but to truly live again. This fight, it’s not just yours anymore. It’s ours. And I will do everything I can to protect you, to give you that chance.”
He took a step closer, planting himself solidly before them, his tall, white robed figure as unshakable as the desert’s ancient dunes. “I know it’s terrifying. I know it’s hard to trust after everything you’ve been through. But you are not alone in this- not anymore. We’ll face this together, every step of the way.” A faint silence lingered in the air, punctuated only by the restless winds stirring the dry sands. Seijun let his words settle, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. His presence exuded an unyielding calm, a grounding force against the whirlwind of their fears. “I can’t promise there won’t be danger,” he added, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “But I will promise this: I’ll stand between you and that danger for as long as I can. I’ll do my best to protect every single one of you. I won’t let this place fall while I’m still breathing.”
He watched as their fearful expressions shifted, some showing the faintest flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Seijun knew he wasn’t just making promises. He was taking their pain and their fear onto himself, bearing the weight of their trust. For the first time, they weren’t just strangers in need. They were his people now, and he would stand by them, no matter the cost. Just as he had for so many other groups for the majority of his life.
The boy with the bandaged leg, that he had helped earlier, stepped forward, clutching his crutch tightly. “We trust you,” he said, his small voice steady. Others nodded, some murmuring quiet thanks. Though the villagers were still afraid, Seijun’s presence gave them a fragile sense of hope. As they separated to follow his instructions, Seijun remained by the tree, for a moment, watching them with a heavy heart. This was why he had come to the Land of Wind; to protect the vulnerable, to face what others couldn’t on their own. Though he felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, he was determine to not let things go any further. He had made it this far, and he would not let Sorai fall. He just hoped that his reinforcements would arrive soon. It wasn't exactly a short journey from the Land of Waterfalls and hopefully all was well with the team.
---
0 chakra used •
Techniques Learned: •
Posted: Thu Jan 23, 2025 1:52 pm
Seijun leaned against the dying tree, his mind still heavy with the weight of his responsibilities. The villagers had begun organizing themselves into small groups, preparing what they could with limited supplies. Despite their fear, there was a spark of determination growing among them, and it gave Seijun a small measure of hope. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the sounds of the desert, the faint rustle of wind, the distant hum of cicadas, to center him.
Then, a low rumbling broke through the stillness.
Seijun’s eyes snapped open, his sharp gaze darting toward the horizon. The sound wasn’t natural; it was too rhythmic, too deliberate. It was faint, but unmistakable, like thunder rolling beneath the sands. He stiffened, his senses sharpening, and a strange unease settled over him. Several villagers nearby noticed the noise and his sudden alertness and followed his gaze. “What is it?” one of them asked, their voice tinged with fear. Before Seijun could respond, the source of the disturbance revealed itself. In the distance, above the shimmering heat waves of the desert, a massive glass-like serpent rose into the sky, its translucent body glinting in the midday sun. The sight was both awe-inspiring and unnerving, as if the desert itself had come alive. The serpent arched gracefully before plunging back into the distant oasis, sending a cascade of water high into the air.
Seijun’s breath hitched. An ordinary oasis didn’t hold that much water. His first thought was of ninjutsu, but it was powerful, controlled, and far beyond anything a common bandit could manage. “Is that a dragon?” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. The villagers began to murmur amongst themselves, voices rising in a mixture of fear and confusion. “That’s the direction of the bandit's encampment,” one of them said, their brow furrowed. “The bandits moved in deeper, towards the ruins of Sunagakure, but there's never been an oasis behind our village. Could they have.. made it?”
“No,” another interrupted, shaking their head strongly. “That can’t be bandits. They don’t have that kind of power. That’s a shinobi’s doing, for sure.”
Seijun’s jaw tightened. If this was the work of a shinobi, it could mean trouble. But what kind of shinobi would linger in a desolate region like this? Why would they construct an oasis in a place they were planning to wipe out? The implications gnawed at him. He glanced toward the villagers, their faces now a mixture of worry and dread. Could he leave them to investigate? The prospect of abandoning them, even briefly, was unthinkable, especially with the looming threat of a bandit attack. “Young man, what do we do?” a younger villager asked, their voice quivering.
He hesitated, torn between his instinct to act and his duty to protect the people here. Leaving could expose the village to an ambush, but ignoring such a blatant display of power was equally risky. Finally, Seijun spoke, his voice calm but firm. “We stay vigilant. Until we know more, we don’t move.” The villagers nodded reluctantly, though their apprehension lingered. Seijun turned his gaze back toward the desert, his mind racing. "If that's a bandit, they definitely used to be a high level shinobi..." He couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was out there was connected to the bandits’ movements and their purpose. The struggles Sorai faced were increasing and all the thoughts he had before were gone. But for now, his priority was clear: ensure the safety of the people here. Still, the image of the serpent lingered in his mind. The desert was full of mysteries, but this was something entirely different.
---
0 chakra used •
Techniques Learned: •
Kazuma Of The Wind
Enduring Husband
Offline
Kazuma Of The Wind
Enduring Husband
Offline
Posted: Sun Jan 26, 2025 3:16 pm
Seijun busied himself among the villagers, showing them how to fashion makeshift weapons from whatever scarce materials they had on hand. Old farming tools became spearheads with a few adjustments, while broken wagon parts were carefully reshaped into primitive but serviceable shields. Throughout it all, a nagging worry clung to him, one he tried to suppress but couldn’t quite banish. They were pitifully unprepared for a full-scale bandit raid, especially one that might involve advanced ninjutsu. He could see the same doubt mirrored in the eyes of the villagers, many of them trembling with each hammer strike, each swing of a blade. Yet despite this mutual unease, Seijun forced a confident smile whenever someone glanced his way. If he let his own fears slip, he knew it would undermine the fragile resolve that had taken root in Sorai.
After securing a final metal scrap to the end of a wooden pole, Seijun handed the makeshift spear to a young man. “Keep your stance firm,” he instructed. “Aim low to push an enemy off balance. But remember, your life matters more than a weapon. If things get overwhelming, drop it and run.” Stepping back, Seijun inhaled deeply, collecting himself. Doubt still tugged at the corners of his mind: Are we truly ready for this? Will help arrive in time? He clenched his fists, deliberately letting the tension drain. No. Focus. He glanced around, seeing the hopeful eyes of the people who had come to rely on him. His resolve hardened. He refused to let them see him falter.
Moving away from the small gathering, he climbed a nearby sand dune that overlooked the village. With the sun beating down, he squinted at the horizon to the north, where he expected his squad to appear. The rolling hills of wind-swept sand offered little in the way of clarity. Still, he searched for any sign of life, dust clouds, silhouettes, anything that might mean reinforcements were on the way. When will they get here? he wondered, his brow furrowing. And will it be before the bandits strike? He closed his eyes momentarily, imagining their arrival. His squadmates would fan out, set traps, reinforce the villagers’ defenses. A plan would form, one that didn’t rely solely on improvised weapons and desperate hope. But for now, it was a waiting game.
Suddenly, a violent tremor jolted him from his thoughts. The sand beneath his feet shifted, sending waves of sand tumbling down the side of the dune. Seijun’s eyes widened in alarm as a deep rumble echoed across the desert. Below, the villagers shouted in alarm and turned in unison toward the oasis. Seijun spun around, his heart pounding. Over the distant horizon, where a glass-like serpent had appeared only moments before, massive shapes burst upward. Towering sequoias, trees that had no business thriving in the desert, rapidly stretched to full maturity, their enormous trunks ripping through the oasis as if it were made of paper. The ground tore open as more and more trees sprouted, forming a dense forest that sprawled across what had once been the remnants of Sunagakure. A mile-wide area, at least, of rubble was suddenly a lush woodland, practically an entire ecosystem manifesting in seconds. “That’s… impossible,” Seijun breathed, momentarily stunned by the sheer magnitude of the feat. The villagers erupted in frantic cries behind him, their fear renewed tenfold. He understood why. This was more than just an omen of trouble. It was a display of vast chakra mastery, something no mere bandit could accomplish.
For a moment, he found himself transfixed, genuinely awed. Whoever did this is incredibly strong… The thought flickered in his mind, igniting that familiar thrill of a potential challenge. For a brief instant, Seijun’s lips curled into a barely restrained grin. Part of him, the warrior’s spirit, craved a worthy opponent, someone who could truly push him to his limits. But just as quickly, he reined the feeling in, reminding himself of what was truly at stake. He turned, addressing the villagers with renewed urgency. “Everyone, listen to me!” he shouted above the din. “We don’t know who caused this, but if it’s the bandits, they’re far stronger than we anticipated. We can’t risk running in blindly.” He paused, scanning their faces, noting the mounting terror. “For now, return to your homes and barricade yourselves inside. Weapons are our last resort. If you see anyone approaching who isn’t me or my squad… stay hidden.” The villagers stared at him, panic and confusion warring with the sliver of hope his presence inspired. Seijun took a steadying breath, willing himself to project confidence he didn’t fully feel. “You’re scared—I understand. But we can’t let panic rule us. We will get through this. I promise.” With that, the crowd began to disperse, some scrambling to gather family members and drag them into whatever shelter they had. Seijun watched them go, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. This is bigger than I realized. The other dens didn't have anyone at my level...
And all he could do was wait, standing guard under the relentless sun, covering himself with the hood attached to his robe, his gaze flicking between the impossible forest on the horizon and the distant north where he prayed his friends would soon appear.
---
0 chakra used •
Techniques Learned: •
Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2025 8:34 pm
Kihone adjusted the strap of his worn out satchel along with the cloth tying his new sword to his back. He was laughing merrily with his brother after being gently shoved by Nagi after making a playful jest. The afternoon sun was high and drifting into its descent toward the east. Sorai village eventually came into view over some dunes, causing Kihone to pause at the top of the sandy terrain to look back at the forest that had grown in place of the Sunagakure ruins. "Nobody is gonna believe what we survived yesterday, Nagi. Good thing Ama-neesama is here to vouch for us!" He'd give each of them a smile then looked back toward the village. It was hard to tell at first, but after a closer inspection he noticed that it was eerily quiet, but it seemed like a bunch of junk or scrap had been piled together into defensive walls to protect various points of entry into the village. Kihone strained his eyes to make out any details as they continued their approach home. As he did, he asked his companions, "Uhh... d'ya think they know about the bandits?" He was starting to worry if perhaps they were too late and everyone was already dead, or something like that. Kihone's anxious gaze continued to pick at any other details he could until he spotted a lone figure on another dune along the way to the village. He certainly didn't recognize the figure, so Kihone halted for a moment to look at Reika and see if maybe she'd recognize him. "Maybe... you should go first Reika-neesama?" He tried to mask his wariness with deference, but it was pretty clear that he was just hesitating about being anywhere near this stranger if they were another bad guy.
The journey back to the village proved taxing for Reika, whose stamina was already at its limits. Even the sweet fruit she nibbled on offered only fleeting relief from her mounting exhaustion, and each step felt heavier than the last. She nodded absently at Kihone’s chatter, half-listening as her keen gaze swept across the sandy expanse. Reaching the crest of a dune between their newly formed forest and the battered village, Reika froze at the sight of a lone figure dressed in pristine white robes. The person stood at the far edge of the settlement, seemingly engrossed in the desert’s emptiness rather than the sudden forest behind them.
“Me first?” she murmured, swallowing her apprehension before speaking up for the boys’ benefit. “So you don’t know them either,” she added under her breath, her heart drumming a warning pulse in her chest. The figure’s posture suggested no immediate threat, yet the way they carried themselves—calm and unhurried—unsettled her. Do they know about my technique? Reika wondered, a bead of sweat tracking down her temple. The pounding of her pulse reverberated in her hands, and she tensed her fingers into fists to steady herself. “Stay close behind,” she ordered softly, “but not so close that I can’t defend you.”
They descended the dune together, the gritty sand shifting beneath their feet until they reached the compacted flats of the village’s outer edge. Reika called out, her voice echoing in the uneasy stillness, “Anyone still here?” even as her eyes remained locked on the stranger in white. “The boys and I took care of the bandits…” She paused, uncertain how to explain the miraculous forest that now swallowed what remained of the desert. “Where the… forest is now,” she finished awkwardly.
Although her tone faltered, her vigilance did not. She slipped a kunai from the pouch strapped to her thigh, gripping it firmly in case this silent figure posed more danger than their serene posture suggested. The breeze tugged at her hair, carrying with it the faint scent of the lush greenery behind her- yet the village itself remained eerily devoid of any sign of life. Reika’s heart thudded anew, and she braced herself for whatever awaited them beneath that quiet, ghostly robe.
--- Posting Order: Kihone, Reika, Izanagi, Seijun
0 chakra used •
Techniques Learned: •
Kondo Kaicho
Regenki
Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2025 4:20 pm
As Izanagi and Kihone made their way toward Sorai, the air felt heavier with each step. The playful banter that had fueled their journey began to thin out, replaced by an unspoken tension that gnawed at Izanagi’s gut. His thoughts churned with uncertainty. They’d left in secret, but only for a day—Koroto was used to their antics. This time, though, something felt wrong. His fingers clenched instinctively at his side, his other hand resting lightly against the scabbard of his sword as if the steel inside could answer the questions rattling in his head. Then he saw it. The village was wrapped in a crude barrier. It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t planned. It was an act of survival. But worse than the wall was the silence. No voices, no movement, no signs of the bustling life Sorai always carried. It was as if the entire village had vanished into the sand.
Izanagi’s heart pounded in his ears. The weight of the unseen, the unknown, pressed into his chest. Where is everyone? His eyes darted across the village’s perimeter, scanning for any sign of life. His feet were moving before he realized, his body drawn forward by the sheer force of his dread. Then his gaze locked onto the figure. A lone man in white stood between them and Sorai, unmoving. His robes billowed faintly in the dry breeze, the hood obscuring his face. He was positioned deliberately, as if waiting. Watching. Izanagi's breath hitched. His first instinct was fear, an icy chill that ran the length of his spine. But just as quickly, a fire roared to life in its place, burning away hesitation. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to step forward. Kihone, beside him, had stiffened but had the sense to ease back, falling in step behind Reika as she raised a hand to keep them back. She moved with subtle caution, her fingers ghosting over the hilt of a kunai, ready but composed.
Izanagi did not share her patience.
"Oi, Oi, Oi! Where's everyone at?!" His voice cut through the silence, raw and unrestrained. His grip on his sword tightened. His stance shifted ever so slightly, his feet planting themselves in the sand as his weight adjusted—ready to draw, ready to fight. His breathing was heavy, uneven. His body was screaming at him to wait, to think, but his heart was too loud, pounding with fear, with anger. "Did you hurt my Big Bro? " The words escaped before he could think better of them. His eyes, fierce and unwavering, bore into the stranger’s shadowed face, waiting for an answer. 'Say something. Show me if I should cut you down.'His mind screamed, but he couldn't tell if he was hoping for a fight or praying against one.
_______________ ☼Out Of Context ☼ ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ OOC goes here
Technique Used: ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here.
Technique Active: ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here.
Combat Modifiers & PA's ▰ Singularity | Jūryokuton users have an inherent gravitational pull towards themselves. Because of this, they are able to utilize close range Taijutsu and Bukijutsu with greater effects, reducing the opponents Agility by half once every [3] posts when using an appropriate Taijutsu or Bukijutsu. Additionally, Jūryokuton are able to cast their Gravity techniques with somatic gestures. Once per [5] posts, gravity chakra can be applied to a complex Taijutsu and Bukijutsu technique which causes the technique to count as spiritual in collisions but loses the stat buff. Using this PA itself never consumes a combat action. ▰ Piercing Accuracy | The clansman is more proficient than his fellow clan members at striking tenketsu. One's gentle fist application allows them to reduce 1.5 times the amount of chakra spent in a juken strike instead of 1.25. For example, if one spends 80 chakra on a gentle fist technique, the attack robs the target of 120 instead of the 100 normal clansmen would reduce. ▰ Purest Lineage | The clansman's thoroughbred lineage allows them access to the Byakugan without the use of a hand seal, chakra cost, or activation. In addition, should they unlock the Tenseigan, they may have 50% less reserves to maintain it than other clan members and may also activate the Tenseigan without the use of a hand seal, chakra cost, or activation. ▰ Signature Style: Infinite One Sword Style
Discipline & Cross Class Abilities ▰ Bukijutsu: Expert [ Katana ] | The user has achieved a sense of mastery and focus unlike others and are known as an Expert, a dedicated focus over a weapon they use to near perfection. The shinobi can pick a single weapon, or two if dual wielding, to apply this focus toward with examples such as Katana, Spear, Bows or even Dual Daggers. They acquire a Keystone technique that is unique to them with an additional 2 Custom Techniques derived of this special ability. Refer to the Keystone Guideline for more information. They gain a [+1] boost to both speed and agility & techniques cost [5] less Chakra and/or Stamina per rank of the technique when wielding attacks with their specialized weapon in attack or defense. With a minimum of 5 chakra or stamina paid.
▰ Bloodline: Dual Ancestry | Dual Ancestry allows you to have full access to two bloodlines upon creation including all techniques, abilities, and personal attributes associated with them. For biographical purposes, your secondary bloodline may be genetic or implanted at your discretion. This discipline gives you [4] bloodline PAs to be used only for the bloodline attributes of your dual bloodlines on top of the [2] personal attributes you receive at base for a total of [6]. If two elemental bloodlines are chosen then the primary bloodline's elemental affinities become your base elements and you gain full access to those elements while your secondary bloodline gives you locked elemental affinities that you cannot learn ninjutsu techniques from but you gain full access to the secondary bloodline. Locked elemental affinities can be unlocked through methods such as ninjutsu class or personal attributes. Elemental affinity personal attributes are automatically allotted to locked affinities. Jiongu users do not have access to Dual Ancestry nor can they be chosen as a secondary bloodline. Dual Ancestry users do not have access to the implant system including the Genetic Palette personal attribute. If you use multiple techniques from both of your bloodlines in the same post without Korabo then those techniques are increased in effectiveness by one rank. This discipline cannot be taken with the Elemental Mastery discipline from Ninjutsu Class. ▰ Bloodline - Bukijutsu Cross Class | Bloodline abilities that effect stats are increased by [1] per rank of the technique. In addition, the user is able to combine a bloodline technique and a bukijutsu technique together for a single action, paying the resource cost of both every three posts.
Title: Group Training! Paragraphs Counted: 2 Rank: E Reputation: Neutral Impact: Global Information: Train and hone your skills with other Academy Student Level characters! **Name of Mission - [ Rank | 1/1 Posts ]
Footsteps. Soft, deliberate. Coming from the forest.
Seijun’s heartbeat quickened, a mixture of excitement, worry, elation, and dread washing over him in waves. His left hand slipped from the protective cover of his sleeves, letting the desert sun kiss his skin as it moved instinctively to rest on the black-and-gold hilt of his katana. Good or bad… it doesn’t matter. He took a slow, measured breath, his hooded head tilting toward the direction of shifting sands and approaching figures. I'm ready. His stance adjusted almost imperceptibly- his knees bent just enough to launch forward in an instant, his right hand gripping the hilt, prepared to draw in one fluid motion. Every muscle, every breath, was primed for efficiency. Not a single movement would be wasted. If this was a threat, he would strike first. Then, just as he was about to move, a voice rang out—loud, brash, and utterly ridiculous.
Oi, oi, oi…? Seijun faltered. What? The sheer absurdity of it almost sent him tumbling forward. He barely restrained a chuckle, but his lips twitched at the edges, threatening to betray him. Gangster bravado? In the middle of the desert? He released the hilt of his sword and, without warning, burst into laughter so forceful that it knocked his hood clean off. Losing balance, he fell backward onto the sand with a soft thud, clutching his stomach as laughter shook through him.
“Ahahaha! For real?!” he wheezed, pointing at the approaching trio with an amused grin. “People still talk like that?! I thought that style died out ages ago!” Still chuckling, he rolled smoothly onto his feet and slid down the sand dune toward level ground, his movements fluid, almost effortless. Even in his playful descent, his body remained precise. If the moment turned, if an attack came, he could instantly return to his previous stance, ready to strike without hesitation. Coming to a stop, he dusted the sand off his sleeves and exhaled sharply. His sharp golden eyes flicked over the trio, scrutinizing them in the span of a heartbeat.
"I’ll assume none of you are bandits for now," he mused, his tone still tinged with amusement. "But..." He trailed off, shifting his gaze to the redhead, his expression growing more inquisitive. His finger extended, pointing directly at her. "You’re not dressed for this weather. And they," he gestured toward the other two, "aren’t much better off." Then, almost lazily, he turned his head toward the towering trees behind them. His voice dropped into something deeper, more sinister; calm yet unsettling.
“The forest.” His eyes gleamed with knowing. His posture remained relaxed, yet without warning, his hands disappeared behind his back, hidden from sight. It wasn't a threatening movement, but one that would undoubtedly put someone on edge. “You did that, didn’t you, miss?” Though his stance was easygoing, there was no mistaking the sharp intelligence behind his gaze. He wasn’t just toying with them. He was studying them, waiting to see how they reacted.
Kihone was quiet and observant for the entirety of the exchange with this stranger who was waiting outside of a fortified Sorai village. This man completely ignored his brother's question after laughing in his face about how he spoke then proceeded with his own interrogation against Reika. Worried teal eyes surveyed the village once more from closer than last time, hoping for any sign of Koroto also keeping watch for their return. Kihone would step out from behind Reika and yank Izanagi back from the man he was squaring up to. "Koro-nii must be worried to death about us, Nagi. Also, all my ninja training notes are under my mattress. We have to get back to the orphanage." He whispered to his little brother while the older folks prodded each other for details with a poker heated with unspoken tensions. Nobody had even gone out of their way to even introduce themselves. 'Are we not supposed to say who we are even though we're so close to home?' Kihone would look up at Reika then Seijun and spoke up, "Albino-san, are you a friend to this village? Ama-nee saved us from bad guys in the ruins who are coming here to hurt everyone else. Please, let us pass? Pretty please!?" If he was nice about, maybe things could progress without anyone actually hurting each other before the real looming danger arrived. Things were bad enough to not need to menacingly mingle with a stranger who might also actually just be here to help too. Perhaps the gods smiled favorably on Sorai if this guy was as strong as he looked to this eight year old.
Reika’s muscles coiled at the sound of the man's laughter. Even as she watched him tumble down the sand dune, it was clear he was toying with them. There was something deeply unsettling about his nonchalance—how he treated this as a game, yet carried the presence of a predator. Her grip tightened around the kunai, fingers stiff, knuckles whitening. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs. Are we in danger? Panic clawed at her mind. Is he here to kill everyone? She scanned the barren landscape—no one else was around. Her breathing grew ragged, uneven. Without thinking, she raised the kunai to her chest and crouched low, instinct kicking in.
“Y-you…” she managed between shallow breaths, trying to suppress the storm within. “You’re a bandit, aren't you?” Her words carried a challenge, but her tone was unsteady. A fire burned in her eyes as her chakra flared, her body preparing for battle. Then, with a sudden realization, she thrust out her left arm, blocking Kihone and Izanagi from stepping forward. She had forgotten them—forgotten everything but the suffocating weight of her own fear. Her breath hitched. Not again.
Doubt swelled inside her, thick and suffocating. She wasn’t qualified to protect them. Just like before—just like her village. The past bled into the present, and for a moment, she wasn’t standing in the desert. She was back there—back in the forest, where the screams of her clan still echoed. The acrid stench of blood and burning wood filled her mind. The weight of failure pressed against her chest, heavy and unrelenting. She stared down at the kunai in her grip. In this moment, she swore she could see it—their blood, staining her hands, caked beneath her nails. I won’t let them win again…! The silent scream tore through her mind as she tightened her stance, ready to fight as if she were reliving that nightmare all over again.
--- Posting Order: Kihone, Reika, Izanagi, Seijun
0 chakra used •
Techniques Learned: •
Kondo Kaicho
Regenki
Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2025 6:56 pm
Nagi's cheeks burned red with embarrassment, his brow furrowed in anger at the hooded man's form rolling around on the ground. "Whadd'ya mean?! What's wrong with the way I talk?!" He roared in his frustration. It was obvious to the man that his bark was far stronger than his bite. He hand moved to the hilt of the sword, gripping it tightly as he prepared to dart forward and attempt to attack the man to get even with him for his insults, when he heard him say he'd assume they weren't bandits he paused.
A sharp tug from Kiho and Reika's hand placement would stop him.
He'd be glad they did. The air seemed to shift when the stranger's demeanor did. The hairs on his neck stood on end as he suddenly sensed danger. He looked to Reika to get a sense of how dangerous he could actually be, which would concern him more. Her confidence seemed broken. As he took note of this, Kiho whispered about getting back to the orphanage before addressing the man. Izanagi's tensed stance would relax. He wasn't sure what he was sensing, but Kiho seemed to be more in control of the situation right now than Reika or he were. He settled, allowing them to speak and removed his hand from the weapon, offering a sharp huff and crossed his arms, nearly pouting at the scorning laughter the man had offered already.
_______________ ☼Out Of Context ☼ ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ OOC goes here
Technique Used: ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here.
Technique Active: ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here. ▰ Technique Name | Rank Description goes here.
Combat Modifiers & PA's ▰ Singularity | Jūryokuton users have an inherent gravitational pull towards themselves. Because of this, they are able to utilize close range Taijutsu and Bukijutsu with greater effects, reducing the opponents Agility by half once every [3] posts when using an appropriate Taijutsu or Bukijutsu. Additionally, Jūryokuton are able to cast their Gravity techniques with somatic gestures. Once per [5] posts, gravity chakra can be applied to a complex Taijutsu and Bukijutsu technique which causes the technique to count as spiritual in collisions but loses the stat buff. Using this PA itself never consumes a combat action. ▰ Piercing Accuracy | The clansman is more proficient than his fellow clan members at striking tenketsu. One's gentle fist application allows them to reduce 1.5 times the amount of chakra spent in a juken strike instead of 1.25. For example, if one spends 80 chakra on a gentle fist technique, the attack robs the target of 120 instead of the 100 normal clansmen would reduce. ▰ Purest Lineage | The clansman's thoroughbred lineage allows them access to the Byakugan without the use of a hand seal, chakra cost, or activation. In addition, should they unlock the Tenseigan, they may have 50% less reserves to maintain it than other clan members and may also activate the Tenseigan without the use of a hand seal, chakra cost, or activation. ▰ Signature Style: Infinite One Sword Style
Discipline & Cross Class Abilities ▰ Bukijutsu: Expert [ Katana ] | The user has achieved a sense of mastery and focus unlike others and are known as an Expert, a dedicated focus over a weapon they use to near perfection. The shinobi can pick a single weapon, or two if dual wielding, to apply this focus toward with examples such as Katana, Spear, Bows or even Dual Daggers. They acquire a Keystone technique that is unique to them with an additional 2 Custom Techniques derived of this special ability. Refer to the Keystone Guideline for more information. They gain a [+1] boost to both speed and agility & techniques cost [5] less Chakra and/or Stamina per rank of the technique when wielding attacks with their specialized weapon in attack or defense. With a minimum of 5 chakra or stamina paid.
▰ Bloodline: Dual Ancestry | Dual Ancestry allows you to have full access to two bloodlines upon creation including all techniques, abilities, and personal attributes associated with them. For biographical purposes, your secondary bloodline may be genetic or implanted at your discretion. This discipline gives you [4] bloodline PAs to be used only for the bloodline attributes of your dual bloodlines on top of the [2] personal attributes you receive at base for a total of [6]. If two elemental bloodlines are chosen then the primary bloodline's elemental affinities become your base elements and you gain full access to those elements while your secondary bloodline gives you locked elemental affinities that you cannot learn ninjutsu techniques from but you gain full access to the secondary bloodline. Locked elemental affinities can be unlocked through methods such as ninjutsu class or personal attributes. Elemental affinity personal attributes are automatically allotted to locked affinities. Jiongu users do not have access to Dual Ancestry nor can they be chosen as a secondary bloodline. Dual Ancestry users do not have access to the implant system including the Genetic Palette personal attribute. If you use multiple techniques from both of your bloodlines in the same post without Korabo then those techniques are increased in effectiveness by one rank. This discipline cannot be taken with the Elemental Mastery discipline from Ninjutsu Class. ▰ Bloodline - Bukijutsu Cross Class | Bloodline abilities that effect stats are increased by [1] per rank of the technique. In addition, the user is able to combine a bloodline technique and a bukijutsu technique together for a single action, paying the resource cost of both every three posts.
Title: Group Training! Paragraphs Counted: 2 Rank: E Reputation: Neutral Impact: Global Information: Train and hone your skills with other Academy Student Level characters! **Name of Mission - [ Rank | 1/1 Posts ]
When the little green kid spoke, Seijun tilted his head, lips quirking in amusement. "You have a mattress?" he echoed, his voice dripping with exaggerated curiosity. His fingers tapped against his chin thoughtfully before his gaze flicked toward the trio. "Aren’t they poor?" he muttered to himself, half-distracted, half-genuinely confused. The comment about ninja training notes went completely over his head, but before he could clear up the confusion, the redhead lost her damn mind.
Seijun blinked. Then blinked again. “Yikes… You’ve got trauma too, huh?” he said, loud enough for her to hear, his tone laced with that easygoing amusement that made it impossible to tell whether he was joking or being completely serious. Then, as if sighing at the sheer absurdity of it all, he let out a long, exaggerated breath that ruffled his bangs before—poof. In an instant, Seijun was gone. No blur, no warning. Just the soft hiss of sand shifting where he once stood, as if the wind had snatched him from existence. Before anyone could process it, he reappeared just four feet in front of the red-haired girl, his katana raised above his head. His grin never faltered. His right hand, still gripping the sheathed blade, swung down with a force that could send a lesser shinobi into retirement. If she couldn’t dodge, she’d be kissing the sand unconscious in an instant.
If successful, (Kazuma said he was cool with it hitting) Seijun would crouch beside her collapsed form, resting his left hand lightly on her head, fingers tapping as if she were an instrument. “Girls get crazier and crazier the older I get,” he mused, sighing in mock exasperation. Then, with the same ease as before, he shot back up, tossing his katana lazily into the air. His attention shifted to the two boys before him. “You two look tense.” Without hesitation, he shot both palms forward, striking their chests with enough force to make them stagger—but rather than pain, warmth spread through their bodies as his chakra worked to heal the majority of their injuries. “Relax, I’m here to deal with the bandits,” he assured them, rolling his shoulders as he effortlessly caught his katana mid-air and secured it back at his waist.
Then, as if completely detached from the entire encounter, he pulled his hood up to shield himself from the sun and slid his hands back into his sleeves. He took a deep breath, then sneezed so suddenly and violently that it shattered any lingering tension in the air. “The sun’s pretty rough this time of—no, wait, it’s always this bad out here,” he muttered, sniffling as if he had completely forgotten the chaos that had just unfolded. “Ugh. I hate the desert…” Walking off to ignore the young girl in the sand.
---
210 chakra used • Body Flicker | D-Rank • Nap no Jutsu | S-Rank • Healing Hands Technique | B-Rank
