A new generation of shinobi, heirs to their predecessors’ legacies, must rise to face the challenges ahead. Their paths are intertwined with the villages’ fate and the essence of the shinobi way as they confront powerful enemies and unforeseen challenges unlike any before. Welcome to Ninja-Tales, wanderer— we’re glad you found us, and we can’t wait for you to jump into our world.
CRE DITS
NINJA-TALES was designed and created by Mitsurugi, Nugiita, and the NT staff team, with information templates and our banner image created by Tatarigami for use only on NINJA-TALES and not to be replicated or reproduced without permission. Special thanks to Pharaoh Leap for creating this skin and Linear Icons for the use of their font icons. All original characters and content on the site belong to their respective owners unless otherwise specified. We claim nothing that is not ours.
Kōki exhales a breath of air in exasperation and annoyance. He’s hopelessly lost, fed up to the teeth with the Hidden Leaf’s sweltering temperature and winding alleyways; his eyes wander over those mingling in the streets, blissfully walking under the light of a cloudless sky— the sun bright and oppressive with its relentless heat. He swipes his wrist against his forehead, wiping away the droplets of sweat that had gathered there on his wanderings. He sighs, suddenly acutely missing the blessed coolness Kirigakure’s naturally misty environment provides. Despite the map clutched between his hands he struggles to find his way through the streets of Konohagakure, having circled the block almost four times in an attempt to find the village’s famous yakiniku restaurant. [break][break] When a breeze blows by, he can almost smell the meat cooking on the grills, and his stomach growls loudly. Samehada also reacts to the sound, acutely aware of Kōki’s hunger as though it reflected its own. “Sorry,” the boy apologises to his sentient blade, reaching behind him to give it a reassuring pat, “My chakra must taste pretty horrible right now, huh?” Samehada wriggles in response as if agreeing, and Kōki smiles at it gently— an expression he seems to reserve only for the treasured blade. He’s sure Samehada is equally suffering in the hot weather, and resolves to find the restaurant sooner. [break][break] The tailed beast within him, he finds, has been oddly quiet throughout their recent travels. Kōki has scarcely heard a whisper from Chōmei, much less the usual disappointed or cross word. He enjoys the silence free from their chaotic internal bickering; perhaps he ought to attempt to sleep now— perhaps he would finally be (at least temporarily) free from his chronic nightmares. [break][break] Samehada growing increasingly restless in its place strapped to his back brings Kōki back to his task at hand: finding Yakiniku Q and finally tasting the various meats from their famous menu. Hungry and a bit moody, he continues to trudge through the streets, feeling as though he were walking in circles and squinting at the map in his hands. Waiting too long for a meal is bound to catch up to a member of the Kurogane Clan, and Kōki has a bad habit of getting lost in the simplest of places. [break][break] “I hate it here.” He grumbles, yet again wiping the sweat from his brow.
"I'm heading out." He said aloud, knowing he wouldn't get a reply. Putting on his sandals and holstering his katana sheath in his green obi. He made his way out of the house. Making his way towards his next destination. [break][break] He just got done with training and was looking to get some food. He wasn't all too keen on eating his mother's cooking. She was a good cook, but he wanted to eat something more exciting than the usual. He was craving something a bit more flavorable than just rice, fish, or stew today. And he personally did not feel like cooking for himself today. [break][break] So, Yakiniku it was. [break][break] Making his way through the dizzying streets of Konoha, he instinctually kept to the shadows. Not wanting to make his presence known much to the general populace. Sure any shinobi worth their salt would be aware of him. But the average civilian? They barely pay attention to what's in front of them. Far too preoccupied with their daily lives to be so alert. [break][break] Not that he cared much what they did with themselves. [break][break] Still, he was a creature of habit. Sticking to old routines and coping mechanisms he held on to since his youth. Anything to not draw the ire of the people in the village who wished him dead and gone. Sure, it wasn't everyone who hated him here. But it was enough to make his life difficult. And he had every intention to keep his life as uncomplicated as possible. [break][break] Pulling from his thoughts, something in him stirred. He wasn't quite sure what it was. But he felt uncomfortably tense. Like a prickling at the back of his brain, trying to tell him something. But he was unable to decipher the feeling. Frowning he noticed someone making their way through the alleys. They seemed... lost? [break][break] He could've easily passed them in the alleyway. But noticed that they were not from here. They were definitely a shinobi. Not only that. The feeling he had became more persistent. As well as a touch of familiarity. Even though he was damned sure he never met a Mist Ninja in his life. [break][break] Stopping in front of him he crossed his arms. Lips tightened into a neutral expression. As his grey eyes focused on the other male. His expression appeared as though he was trying to decipher a complicated puzzle. It was an intense, serious, assessive, look. [break][break] "Hey." [break][break] He greeted unsure what exactly to do, but wishing to help the man out. It was also curiosity that drove him to find out more. And so he continued. [break][break] "Lost? Need help?"
[attr="class","rulemyheartlyric3]ruler of my
[attr="class","rulemyheartlyric4]HEART
[break]
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0070 HP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0065 SP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0065 DP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0050 CP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0050 AP
[attr="class","rulemyheartn"]
Surprise!
[attr="class","rulemyheartwc"]
426 WORDS
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“Hey,” [break][break] Kōki has the inherent ability to act unnaturally even in the most mundane of scenarios; he wonders if it would be prudent of him to keep a notebook of icebreakers and helpful tips on social etiquette on his person at all times, if only to avoid the inevitable awkwardness that happens every time a stranger breathes even a word in his direction. In this case, the stranger is tall, built, and armed. Tension draws the muscles in his shoulders taut like a stretched wire when he realises he’s stumbled on not a civilian, but a shinobi. “Um—” [break][break] “Lost? Need help?” [break][break] He can’t help but stare up at the man, tired eyes coloured with unsubtle suspicion. He stares as long as he dares until finally, he repositions his gaze and shifts his focus to something else, clearly uncomfortable with eye contact. Good samaritans were a rarity in the Mist; one would more likely encounter an opportunistic mugger feigning helpfulness than a kindly stranger with no ulterior motive. He’s about to mumble some poor excuse to leave when the growl of his stomach cuts through his ingrained paranoia. [break][break] What are you, a child? Ask him for directions. [break][break] “Oh, now you want to talk? You’re always talking when I’m in the middle of trying to process things.” Kōki mumbles lowly, his brows knitting into a frown at the fact that Chōmei has decided now, of all times, is a good time to interject with his loud, obnoxious commentary on his host’s various shortcomings. He realises just a little too late that he spoke aloud, and with wide gold eyes suddenly snaps his attention back to the stranger, “Oh, sorry, not you. I have a…” He vaguely draws circles with his hand over his chest, palm hovering over a clothed part of his skin etched with a telltale seal. “Thing. Like a parasite. It talks.” [break][break] I’m hurt, Kōki. That’s hurtful. [break][break] He would deal with Chōmei later. For now, it’s as though his stomach speaks through him, willing his mouth to form words in the shape of urgency. “I’m looking for Yakiniku Q. Famous place. I can smell it close by.” His words are short. Clipped. Uneven, like he’s not used to proper conversation— because he isn’t. “Yes, help. Thanks.” He finishes— the word help seems to squeeze through grit teeth, unwieldy and unwanted. [break][break] Though they stood away from the general bustle, Kōki slowly comes to realise that their interaction, however brief, has drawn the attention of a spare few nosy onlookers wearing a comical assortment of expressions: some of curiosity, some of shock, some of suspicion. They exist as simple material contexture and background noise to him and yet, he can’t help but feel unsettled by their stares. Are shinobi really such a rarity now in the Hidden Leaf that seeing two from different villages in interaction could send local gossip into a frenzy? [break][break] Perhaps it’s something else. Up until a moment ago he was practically invisible to them.
The young man's expression lightened slightly as he seemed a tiny bit less tense than before. He didn't look he was trying to see into the mist ninja's soul. And instead looked neutral. His grey eyes shone a bit with acknowledgment. "Parasite, huh?" He gave a wry, mockery, of a smirk. "That's something we have in common." He stated before beckoning towards Kouki with a gesture. "I'll show you where it is, I was actually heading there myself." His smirk melted into a somewhat softer expression. [break][break] "Come on." [break][break] He said, making his way down the alleyway at a sedate pace. Ignoring the stares the pair was getting. If he was bothered by the looks he didn't act like it. If anything he looked pretty bored. "Ignore them." He stated out of the blue his attention focused ahead. "They'll get bored soon." The young Jinchuriki intoned coldly. Not bothering to elaborate if they were looking at him or Kouki. Even though he knew the answer. [break][break] A few moments later the duo would appear in front of Yakiniku Q. The smell of delicious sizzling meat wafting through the door. As a few customers walked out laughing with each other before noticing the taller man. They eyed him warily hushing their voices as the boyfriend quickly grabbed his girlfriend's hand and pulled her past him a little bit faster down the street. Her confused protests were heard until they were out of sight. [break][break] Mentally sighing he watched as the door opened once again. However, the person who greeted him seemed to work there. The old man's expression brightened as he noticed Ren. As he went from grumbling about 'inconsiderate brats' to grinning. "RenRen! Good to see you, kid! You should've told me you were coming over! I would've saved you your favorite spot!" [break][break] Ren simply shrugged as he gestured to the purple-haired newcomer, ignoring the teasing nickname. "It was a last-minute thing. Plus I got a new customer here who is really hungry. Mind getting us a seat?" [break][break] The old man nodded as he held the door open for the two Jinchuriki. "Sure, Sure! Feel free to take any free table!" The man made a welcoming gesture as Ren seemed actually to smile, even if it was only somewhat softly. He prepared to enter the restaurant only to pause and thank the man before turning his attention to Kouki. [break][break] "Thanks old man, I owe you one." [break][break] He shrugged a bit as he somewhat gestured toward the door. [break][break] "Come on, let's go eat."
[attr="class","rulemyheartlyric3]ruler of my
[attr="class","rulemyheartlyric4]HEART
[break]
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0070 HP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0065 SP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0065 DP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0050 CP
[attr="class","rulemystats"]0050 AP
[attr="class","rulemyheartn"]
:)
[attr="class","rulemyheartwc"]
439 WORDS
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"Parasite, huh? That's something we have in common." [break][break] There’s a tiny spark of something in Kōki’s dull, dead eyes that announces an unspoken understanding. He nods tiredly, knowing full well the man knew exactly what he meant; though he says no more on the subject, the tension in his shoulders drop in the face of a kindred spirit. He introduces himself as he’s being beckoned along, “I’m… Kōki, from Kirigakure.” He says shortly, watchfully following every turn the shinobi takes with unblinking focus. [break][break] He’s dimly aware of the fact that they’re being eyeballed, but the Hidden Mist shinobi pays that prickling sensation at the nape of his neck no mind. There are more pressing matters at hand, the main one being that he is, by scent alone, rapidly approaching the restaurant he’d been searching for. He admonishes himself for missing such an obvious turn in the road, but the rumble in his stomach and his gnawing hunger supersedes all feelings of shame. [break][break] Languidly, his gaze follows a couple as they leave the store. The way they’re unsubtle with their attempts to quicken their departure is curious; he tracks their movements— the man dragging his paramour to what he probably deems is a ‘safe distance’. Kōki’s eyebrows raise quizzically with unstated interest, and as if on cue Samehada bristles behind him— clearly, his friendly shinobi guide had a more fearsome reputation than his kindness would initially suggest. [break][break] He’s torn from his thoughts as the man greets the shop owner like an old friend, securing them a table in record time. The doors to Yakiniku Q open for them, and he all too happily shuffles in. [break][break] Had it not been for the smell of the food or the restaurant’s extensive menu, Kōki would not subject himself to such a location. He’s navigating around the various tables of a crowded hotspot in the heart of the Hidden Leaf, asking himself in his mind why this is a thing people do. There’s too much noise and twice as much heat, it’s almost suffocating, made worse by the smell of smoke and burning meat. It’s almost more than he can take, and Kōki exhales a sigh of contentment when they’re settled in a booth in the corner of the restaurant— thankfully separate from the majority of the patrons. [break][break] He slides into his seat, carefully setting Samehada down nearby. There’s a grill on the surface of the table in front of him— it’s standard yakiniku restaurant fare. Without hesitation nor a wasted breath, he plucks a menu from its place on the table and begins to order before the restaurant’s owner can retreat to serve another. [break][break] Four salted beef tongues with welsh onion, two short ribs, three cuts of sirloin, and an order of fatty karubi slices later, Kōki finally allows the owner to leave after lighting the grill. As he watches the fire beneath the metal roar to life, his hand hovers over the pouch in his jacket, making sure he brought enough ryō for his meal. When his fingers trace the outline of a full coin purse, he turns his attention finally to his Good Samaritan— his saviour; there’s a subtle shift in Kōki’s demeanour then, brightened by the prospect of food. [break][break] “My treat. As thanks.” He says— words friendly, but quite lacking in any discernible emotion. Kōki moves the topic of conversation along about as gracefully as a bear crashing through a china shop, “You seem to have a reputation in the Hidden Leaf,” The swordsman notes, watchful eyes catching the slightest glimpse of a familiar symbol on his fellow shinobi’s necklace “— And that’s a curious necklace.” [break][break] He recognises it as the mark of the Aoyagi Clan: the Mizukage’s own blood. Strange that he would find it here, of all places. Kōki’s eyes narrow in contemplation, knowing now there’s more to the man than he originally thought. “The emblem of a clan I know all too well... but the Lord Mizukage mentioned nothing about relatives in the Hidden Leaf.” [break][break] Their plates begin to arrive— piles upon piles of meat are balanced on the table, taking up every available space; some are even stacked on top of each other. Kōki gets to work almost immediately; with all the dexterity of a practiced glutton he starts with the restaurant’s specialty: the beef tongue, placing a healthy handful of slices on the grill and relishing in the sound of the sizzle as it touches the searing surface. He plucks a slice from its place the moment it's cooked just right, downing it with a bite of rice— unbothered by the heat. He eats far faster than he moves in battle. [break][break] Look at you go. Slow down, or you’ll choke. [break][break] Kōki ignores the voice in his head, opting instead to continue his line of questioning. “Who are you, really?” He asks. Despite his fascination, there’s scarcely even a hint of emotion on his face or in his words— the product of his poor social experience moreso than apathy, “A swordsman, from your weapon. Makes sense for the necklace… but you’re a shinobi from Konohagakure—” [break][break] “— and do you mind if we order more? I’m not sure this is enough.”
[attr="class","dramaturgynotes"]
had the worst hankering for yakiniku after writing this.