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
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[attr="class","caesartext"] The Mizukage's hair seemed to dance as his thick, light blonde locks cascaded, accompanied by the mist which has given the village it's namesake. As far as his eyes could see, he saw tourist, which the village seemed to have an influx of over the last few days. Especially, the metropolitan area, which was brimming and bustling with activity, even more than usual. Although, to be honest, over the last three years since Yashiro has resided within the Administrative Office, he has managed to accomplish quite a few feats. However, without a doubt, expanding the metropolitan territory was admittedly his most proud accomplishment. [break][break] Despite his tenure being considered relatively short, thus far, Yashiro has had every intention of not stopping prematurely. In his mind, eventually the Mist will expand into significantly more than what it is, even at its current state. [break][break] Making his way through the crowd of pedestrians, their arms filled with bags, comprised of their new clothes, tools, and/or items that they might've only just recently purchased. A subtle smile appeared upon his maw as he took in the scenery. He could almost pat himself on the back when he thinks about it. Things could've been much worst, if he didn't finesse his way into the Mizukage position. Times where significantly different just a few years ago. To think, Kirigakure was now it what the people are calling its 'Golden Age,' where their economy is making more than ever before. Then again, more money can be made when there aren't constant civil wars, and the citizens are oppressed. [break][break] Making his way pass the last of the large crowd of tourist and pedestrians, the Boykage, as many of the kids and people who were close enough to Yashiro to not be sent to prison for the comment like call him these days, made his way towards the largest of the venues. The pitter-patter of steps that resounded as he trudged along the corridor was intricately decorate with a assortment of various designs, and lanterns that hung from different parts of the territory. He was headed to one of the more popular, yet exclusive locations within the Western District of the metropolitan area, the Auction House. One could claim that the Auction House was kind of like the main attraction, or at least, for those endowed with enough coin to spend, or enough goods to distribute. [break][break] What exactly was being sold that was precious enough to grasp the interest of the Mizukage? Well, honestly, it wasn't a question much as a what, but more-so, who would be attending today's audition, that garnered Yashiro's interest. Many foreigners from abroad visited Kirigakure frequently, but today there were visits from the Land of Iron. More notably, there were members of the Date Clan, a clan of Blacksmith's who talents were almost as endowed as the Kurogane Clans'. Or at least, among them, was one such a man who had skills that were unparalleled by any other, Date Masahito. A descendant of the Master Blacksmith who forged the young Lord's most prized possession, the Tenjin. [break][break] One hand resting upon the hilt of his chokutō, an iota smile appeared upon as face as he walked up the steps that led to the entrances of the venue. However, he would stand just outside of the doorway, before entering. Kneading his chakra, he focused a portion of chakra into eyes in order to enhance his visual perception. This allowed him to see chakra normally, with his eyes open or closed. Although, by closing them, even if for a moment, a significantly more refined vision was available to him. He was no longer limited to just what he could see in front of with just his eyes, he could now see much further into the matrix of the universe. And significantly faster, as well. [break][break] "It seems I got here just in time," he said to himself, as he opened his eyes. Pressing open the black, double-doors, he proceeded into the Auction House. As Yashiro stepped into the Auction House, he was immediately greeted by an opulent display of elegance and grandeur. The long hallways were adorned with intricate designs, featuring ornate carvings and delicate patterns that exuded a sense of class and sophistication. Lanterns hung from various points along the corridors, casting a soft, warm glow that added to the overall ambiance. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and excitement, as attendees and staff bustled about, preparing for the auction to commence. [break][break] The Auction House consisted of several rooms, each dedicated to different types of products. The first room he entered was filled with an array of finely crafted weapons. Blades of all shapes and sizes lined the walls, gleaming under the carefully placed spotlights. From traditional katana to exotic and rare weaponry, the collection was truly impressive. The craftsmanship was impeccable, a testament to the renowned blacksmiths of Kirigakure who had most likely honed their skills to perfection. [break][break] Moving on to the next room, Yashiro found himself surrounded by an assortment of tools. This area catered to those seeking specialized equipment for various professions and trades. From intricate medical instruments to meticulously crafted ninja tools, the room was a treasure trove for those in need of reliable and high-quality gear. [break][break] Beyond the tool room, Yashiro entered a space dedicated to elixirs and potions. Shelves lined with glass bottles containing vibrant liquids in all hues filled the room. The potions ranged from healing elixirs to enhancing tonics, offering a myriad of benefits to those who sought them. The room was filled with the scent of herbs and rare ingredients, creating an atmosphere that hinted at the secrets and power contained within each vial. [break][break] As Yashiro continued his exploration, he came across a room that housed rare and valuable items. Here, artifacts from different corners of the world were carefully displayed under glass cases, protected and admired. Ancient scrolls, mystical artifacts, and unique relics were among the treasures that adorned the room. Each item held a story, a piece of history waiting to be discovered by the highest bidder. [break][break] Amidst the bustling atmosphere, Yashiro subtly shifted his focus. While he was indeed intrigued by the offerings of the Auction House, he was also on a more covert mission. He glanced around, searching for a member of his elite group, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, whom he had entrusted to gather information on the attendees. Their task was to identify any potential threats or individuals of interest within the crowd, and also to appraise any and all of the most valuable items they had in stock. [break][break] Having a member of the Kurogane Clan amongst his ranks, a renowned blacksmith whose expertise in appraising the authenticity and value of items was highly respected, as per their lineage. He had to admit, his tactics were a bit unusual, but Yashiro thought this was a best way to access their talents. Besides, though only just whsipers so far, rumors have surfaced regarding counterfeit items circulating in the market, and Yashiro intended to address this matter. He knew that the reputation of Kirigakure's craftsmanship was paramount to the village's economic success, and any tarnish on that reputation needed to be swiftly dealt with. [break][break] With a determined gaze, Yashiro continued his search through the bustling Auction House, his eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. He knew that in this vast collection of treasures, both mundane and extraordinary, he would find the individuals he sought. [break][break] As he continued his search, Yashiro's gaze eventually fell upon a figure standing near a display of exquisitely crafted blades. "Kōki-chan," Yashiro beckoned, his voice carrying a tone of curiosity and concern. "Have you noticed anything concerning among the displays so far?"
Feel free gto carry on the proceedings of the auction and add whatever you want to it. Also, I assumed Yashiro and Kouki were already rather familiar with one another.
The auction house bustles with life: a veritable orchestra of criers peddling their wares and the contemplative chatter of prospective buyers mid-perusal. Kōki’s shadow slides across the walls, weaving through crowds like a snake through the grass— fluid like salt in the sea as his silhouette visits stall after stall, his presence so thin that not even a single glance is drawn from preoccupied attendees. Dark circles underline the shape of his golden eyes, their colors dulled by insomnia and persistent nightmares; he drags his tired gaze along rows upon rows of weapons for sale. A glance is all it takes for him to measure their balance and sharpness— a byproduct of spending much of his life shaping metal by a forge. [break][break] He finds several well-hidden fakes in their midst, regarding them with an uncountable expression. Fastened to his back, Samehada bristles, straining against its bandages with a frustration that much reflected Kōki’s own. These were Kurogane Clan fakes— an insulting imitation. Kōki’s lips draw a thin line as he leans in closer to inspect the ‘masterwork’. It was a plainly forged iron tanto, blackened by impurities in the metal to imitate the signature ‘black blade’ his clan was so known for. [break][break] You’ve a good eye, kid! That there is a Kurogane-forged blade— note the black blade and razor edge, it’ll cost you a fortune but you’ll never need another weapon in your life. [break][break] His eyes meet the man’s own; he had rather narrow eyes, much like a weasel’s— they appeared shrewd, and yet granted not the perception needed to see past Kōki’s tied hair to find the strands of deep black that members of the Kurogane Clan were known for. Seconds tick by, and the silence becomes suffocating, he can feel the shopkeep’s discomfort increase under his gaze. Just as it feels as though one could drown in the tension, Kōki finally parts his lips and exhales a sigh that sounds as weary as he looks. “No. Thank you.” He says, tilting his head in the direction of Samehada’s hilt visibly jutting from behind his shoulder, “I have one already.” [break][break] As if on cue, razor thorns spike from its hilt. Samehada vibrates with bloodlust, no doubt hoping to test and prove itself against the myriad fakes on display. The sensation travels down Kōki’s spine, and he resists the urge to give in and draw the blade. “Calm down.” He dips his head low, addressing Samehada with a gentle tone reserved only for it, “He’ll hardly make a palatable snack. We’ll find someone else to kill.” With that, the greatsword calms, its bristling reduced to a compliant wriggle. The shopkeep retreats to engage others, equal parts disturbed and annoyed. [break][break] He returns to his assignment, checking stall by stall. Counterfeits abound— and yet he spies among them fakes that could very well pass for real. There was, without a doubt, a masterful counterfeiting ring behind the curtains of Kirigakure’s infamous black markets. [break][break] "Kōki-chan," [break][break] He recognises the voice and turns slowly to meet it. Despite his age, the Mizukage cuts a prominent figure in a crowd, and his voice carries enough weight to be heard amidst the din even as a whisper. Answering the summons he shuffles over; Kōki is taller by several inches at least, but his slouch brings him closer to the Mizukage’s height. “Lord Mizukage.” He nods in polite reverence. Samehada hums, gleefully recognising a powerful and familiar chakra signature. [break][break] "Have you noticed anything concerning among the displays so far?" [break][break] Kōki makes a noise of consideration, eyes darkening under the guise of something indescribable. “Some poor fakes of works from my clan and others.” He says shortly, his words a tired drawl— languid as they may sound, there’s a splash of anger behind each enunciation, subtle but present. “There are… clever counterfeits, however.” He notes with concern, “Ones you can hardly tell are fakes without being an expert.” [break][break] And you didn’t confront them. You’re so boring, you know? Where’s your spirit? [break][break] Chōmei’s voice echoes unwelcome in his mind, sparking a sharp headache. Kōki’s hand flies up to clutch his forehead firmly, as though willing the voice away. Now is not the time to lose control. Blessedly, the pain fades almost as soon as it starts, and with now-even breaths Kōki returned to the matter at hand. “There’s a masterful counterfeiting ring at work here, and their influence runs deep.” He concludes his report, reaching behind him to give Samehada’s bandages a firm, affectionate pat, for it was the sentient blade’s chakra-consuming properties that silenced the Seven Tails’ voice. [break][break] “They didn’t recognise me.” Kōki added, lazily pointing to his hair, tightly tied into a messy ponytail, the purple underside of which frequently masks his association with the Kurogane Clan. “They never seem to.” [break][break] Just then, the booming voice of an auctioneer cuts through the crowds. [break][break] Step right up don’t miss this one, folks! A genuine article bearing the signature of legendary Date Clan. Dated to be over one hundred years of age, it bleeds history with an edge as sharp as the day it was forged. We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand ryō— [break][break] Kōki’s jaw clamps shut, his teeth clenching down on words he’s too annoyed to speak aloud. His eyes turn mean and cold; there’s fire beneath his skin and a passion for blacksmithing overflowing within him. It’s bright and hot, and it scorches everything it touches. Samehada whines in response to the shift in emotion. [break][break] “I doubt that’s real.”
[attr="class","caesartext"]“There’s a masterful counterfeiting ring at work here, and their influence runs deep.” [break][break] A somber expression began to slowly spread across his features as he shook his head in disappointment. In truth, he couldn't say that was surprised by the briefing, but more-so that he was hoping the rumors were not true. "How unfortunate..." he murmured, allowing his elbows to poke out of his black jacket as he folded his arms across his chest. Turning his gaze towards the nearest loud speaker as he heard the booming voice of the auctioneer over the intercom. His gaze shifted back towards Kōki as they suggested the alleged legendary weapon crafted by the Date to be yet another imitation. [break][break] There was no reaction to this prediction, however, just a moment of silence. Mauling over the best plan of action to utilize for this situation, Yashiro took a moment or two to tune into the Chakra Signatures within the venue. He did find it peculiar that, despite personally knowing the usual ambassadors from the Land of Iron, he was unable to sense their presence(s). This only gave further justification to Kōki's conclusion. Although, admittedly, he was a bit dissatisfied, the demeanor of the Mizukage wasn't one that showed him as the type to frequently wear his heart on his sleeves; or, at least, not publicly. [break][break] "Let's proceed to the Bidding Hall, I'm sure they're using the more grandiose rooms for this item." He said, giving a slight nod before starting his way across the Auction House. As he began to walk, he slide the tips of his fingers inside the interior of his jacket, receiving a paddle with the emblem of the Aoyagi embroidered into both of its sides. "Take this," he continued, reaching over and handing the paddle to the Genin: [break][break] "Once they begin the auction, place bids on behalf of the Aoyagi. I want to draw the attention to the Suppliers of whatever that weapon is. More importantly, I want to know it's name..." his voice trailed off as he stopped in place before entering into the room. [break][break] "Bid as high as you can; however, don't try to win. If everything goes accordingly, we will use the buyer as a way to lure out the Supplier." With a nod of his head, he would signal for the Genin to proceed int the room. [break][break] As they entered the room, Yashiro's gaze swept across the grandiose space. The hall was filled with an air of anticipation, the murmurs of conversations blending together into a low hum. The architecture of the room was impressive, adorned with intricate designs and lavish decor that matched the opulence of the Auction House itself. [break][break] Yashiro guided Kouki towards an empty seat in the middle of the room, strategically positioning themselves to observe the proceedings. The Mizukage's keen eyes scanned the crowd, estimating that there were around 200 attendees. The room was filled with a diverse mix of potential buyers, collectors, and enthusiasts, each eagerly awaiting the start of the auction. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, a palpable energy that coursed through the room. The scent of polished wood and faint hints of incense hung in the air, adding to the ambiance of the event. The walls were adorned with grand tapestries and ornate chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the room. [break][break] As the attendees settled into their seats, Yashiro's attention was drawn to the auctioneer, whose commanding voice boomed through the loudspeakers. [break][break] The bidding is about to begin. [break][break] Yashiro's gaze shifted to the three bidders who had taken their positions, each preparing to make their initial offers. [break][break] The auctioneer, a charismatic and authoritative figure, stepped onto the stage. The room fell into a hushed silence, all eyes turning towards him. With a commanding presence, he began the proceedings, his voice resonating throughout the room. [break][break] Suddenly, three individuals seated across from Yashiro caught his attention as they openly displayed their interest in the upcoming bidding. They were each scattered out, but due to his positioning, he could see each of them very well. Each bidder exuded a distinct aura, giving Yashiro a brief glimpse into their personalities. [break][break] The first bidder, an affluent noble dressed in extravagant robes, exuded an air of confidence and entitlement. His piercing gaze and ostentatious display of wealth made it evident that he was accustomed to getting what he desired. The second bidder, a mysterious figure hidden beneath a hooded cloak, emanated an aura of secrecy and intrigue. Their composed demeanor and shrewd eyes hinted at a hidden agenda, leaving Yashiro intrigued yet wary of their intentions. The third bidder, a renowned collector known for their vast assortment of antiquities, exuded an aura of knowledge and refinement. Their meticulous attention to detail and scholarly appearance suggested a deep appreciation for history and craftsmanship. [break][break] As the auctioneer initiated the bidding, the three individuals began to compete
Kōki trails behind the Mizukage like a shadow, shoulders hunched and head dipped low as though willing the smaller man to eclipse him. He follows confident strides with lazy drags of his feet with every step, looking ever more tired than before. He has never found places where droves of people gathered to be particularly pleasing, their endless chatter and loudness, mixed with his general lack of sleep, often combine to curse him with a most unpleasant headache. He’s contemplating finding a corner to doze off in somewhere when Yashiro presses a familiar object into his hands— an auction paddle, with an intricately carved emblems on its surface. He recognises it as the Aoyagi Clan emblem almost immediately, golden eyes regarding its owner with a puzzled gaze. [break][break] "Once they begin the auction, place bids on behalf of the Aoyagi. I want to draw the attention to the Suppliers of whatever that weapon is. More importantly, I want to know it's name..." [break][break] The Mizukage makes strides towards the hall, leaving Kōki dumbstruck. He hears a voice in his head, booming with energy and excitement, ‘Sounds fun, like a competition to see who wants to pay more. Do we get to win?’ The jinchūriki pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers with a sigh, “No… probably not. Can you use your inside voice seeing as how you’re inside my head?” [break][break] ‘No.’ [break][break] Figures. Kōki sighs. He wants nothing more in this moment than a meal and a nap, yet his feet move him forward, bound by duty as Yashiro ushers him into the room. [break][break] "Bid as high as you can; however, don't try to win. If everything goes accordingly, we will use the buyer as a way to lure out the Supplier." [break][break] ‘That’s no fun. When do we get to do something fun?’ With difficulty, Kōki ignores Chōmei’s words and nods in response to the orders he’s been given. They were simple enough, although he loathes garnering so much attention from strangers. Samehada shifts slightly on his back, as though restless. Kōki can only assume there are interesting signatures nearby for the sword to want so badly to be unleashed. He makes a mental note to feed it some chakra later, on account of how well it’s behaving right now. [break][break] Although Yashiro had guided him to a seat, Kōki neglected to actually sit. It would be inappropriate, he thinks to himself, for him to sit while the shinobi with the highest position of power in the village stood. He stands guard beside him, wooden auction paddle clutched in his hand. The Mizukage seemed lost in thought, no doubt concentrating on some detail Kōki has missed. He almost dozes off until a voice cuts through the quiet chatter. [break][break] “Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen— the bidding for a rare blade from the Date collection will now begin. We’ll start off at 2,000,000 Ryō. 2,000,000 Ryō, any takers?” [break][break] The affluent bidder raises his paddle, a sneer on his face as though the amount of money was paltry— a mere drop in his reserves. “2,000,000 Ryō thank you sir, do we have 2,500,000?” Another man raises his paddle, meeting the affluent bidder’s despising gaze with a smug smile. At 3,000,000 Ryō, Kōki hesitantly raises his paddle, unsure if it’s too large a spend even for the Mizukage. The sight of the Aoyagi Clan’s emblem attracts a storm of whispers among the crowds as tension blankets them like a thick fog. Several onlookers leave the room hurriedly, while others steel themselves. [break][break] “T-Three million Ryō from the Aoyagi Clan, thank you!” There’s a tremor in the auctioneer’s voice, as though afraid he’ll say something to offend. The bidding continues at 3,500,000 Ryō, and three bidders— the rich man, a hooded figure, and another man continue to up each others’ bids while others quit while they're ahead. Suspicious gazes fall on Kōki and the Mizukage occasionally, waiting for them to make their next move. [break][break] Kōki next raises his paddle at the 4,000,000 Ryō mark, drawing the ire of the affluent bidder, whose attendants stop him from voicing his displeasure towards the Mizukage aloud for the room to hear. He falls back to his seat with a frustrated huff, raising his paddle next for 4,500,000 Ryō, only to be quickly outbid by the hooded man for whom money also seemed to be no issue. Kōki trains his gaze on this mysterious figure, dull golden eyes taking in every detail. There’s a distinctive outline through the side of his cloak— the telltale shape of a katana’s hilt; a slight movement of their feet revealed a trio of strapped kunai on the outside their left boot. [break][break] Kōki’s gaze snaps to somewhere else in the room to avoid suspicion, and when next he speaks his words are a low whisper. “They’re armed to the teeth.” He says as the bidding continues, rising to seven million Ryō. Even the wealthy bidder is beginning to hesitate at this point, but the mysterious figure appears entirely unperturbed. [break][break] ‘Something is wrong here, Kōki. You can feel it, can’t you?’ Uncharacteristically, the Seven Tails' voice is quiet this time, almost cautious. “Yes. Prepare for the worst.” The boy replies, voice barely a decibel above silence. It’s rare for even Chōmei to put up his guard.
[attr="class","caesartext"]This chakra is...genjustu. [break][break] The bidding began and things were going according to plan. Yashiro stood, silently watching the room while still kneading chakra to engage Sensor Mode. This action more-so a tactic used to distract the crowd while be analyzed every presence in the room. As the beginning seemed to become more intense by the moment, within that time, his sapphire blue eyes finally locked onto the eerie chakra signature, which he was able to identify around the cloaked figure. [break][break] “They’re armed to the teeth...” [break][break] With a single step, the young Lord reached over and lightly placed his hand on the shoulder of the Genin. Without saying so, this was his way of telling Kōki to withdraw, and to stay alert. It was was then when he felt the emission of a rather large chakra signature-- [break][break] Suddenly, the room went pitch black-- [break][break] The Mizukage performed a single hand-sign with his left hand, as his right hand tight grasped the hilt of his chokutō. "Flower Escape Technique..." he muttered in a whisper of a voice, only audible enough that Kōki would hear him. [break][break] Bodies started dropping to the floor like flies as some sort of Genjutsu was caste upon those gathered in the Bidding Hall. After about thirty seconds or so, the lights flickered back on. The first thing he was able to see was that he and Kōki were the only two who were able to resist the Genjutsu. Not only that, all of the submitted pieces that were being auctioned off, were gone. A small smirk appeared on the face of the Mizukage as he took in the sight. He found it amusing, he didn't think anyone was brave enough to perform a feat like this in front of him. [break][break] "Kōki-chan," he started to speak as he began stepping around the unconscious bodies, "I'm starting to think that despite being fake...there might just be something unique about those Date Clan pieces." He made his way to the over to the now empty display table, and the cases that surrounded it. Whoever it was, they were brave enough to enact a heist in front of the Mizukage; despite his grinning semblance, he was actually enraged. Despite his attempt to hide his irritation, he thrusted the side of his fist into a pillar, toppling it over. [break][break] "Disrespect such as this will not be tolerated..." His voice trailed off, but his aggravation could still be felt through his low, eerie tone of voice. [break][break] Luckily, it would only take Yashiro about twenty seconds to hone in on the chakra signatures that were no longer in the room. The moment he could determine their positioning, he turned back to face Kōki: [break][break] "I'm locked on the chakra signatures of the culprits of this heist... they seem to still be within the metropolitan territories. Are you alert enough to pursue them?" Asked Yashiro, pausing for a moment to allow the Genin to respond. Turning forward towards the exit to the room, he trudged forth. "We must move swiftly.
Kōki has always had the habit of overthinking— not in the sense that he uses his brain in an emotionally intelligent manner— but he often finds himself unable to help his tendency to catastrophise; lost to a myriad of imaginary scenarios in his own mind. Especially now in this situation, he can’t help but call upon the paranoia bred into him in his childhood. There are situations crafted in his mind that leave him tense at their startling clarity, while others bring his hands defensively crossed over his chest, ready to defend or strike as needed. The Seven Tails’ chakra bubbles like a pit of lava in his stomach, threatening to spill over— a sign of Chōmei’s own anticipation. [break][break] The Mizukage’s hand on his shoulder dispels the storm of swirling thoughts in his mind. There’s a wordless request in the firmness of his grip that wills Kōki to suppress the rising feeling of paranoia in the depths of his belly. His thoughts plead for Chōmei to calm itself, and he exhales a subtle sigh of relief when the beast complies. [break][break] He catches himself almost regretting it when his senses suddenly go dark, as though a thick shadow had been pulled over his eyes. Like the Mizukage, Kōki recognises it as a genjutsu— a rather unsubtle attempt at one, given how easy it is to realise one has been trapped. He feels Chōmei squirm within him, frustrated at being unable to break him out itself. [break][break] Kōki, it’s a genjutsu! [break][break] “I know.” He replies through grit teeth. Performing a quick hand seal, he affects a surge of chakra in his body, and feels the moving energy bring clarity to his senses. The darkness pulls back, and he’s in the auction room again, although his eyes widen at the sight of many unconscious bodies in the genjutsu’s wake. The Mizukage navigates around their limp forms across the room, peeking at now-empty displays. [break][break] "Kōki-chan, I'm starting to think that despite being fake...there might just be something unique about those Date Clan pieces." [break][break] The swordsman barely blinks when Yashiro drops a nearby pillar with his fist. He watches through dull and tired, but alert eyes as the stone crumbles as easily as ancient wood, taking in the sight of an angry Mizukage. In times like these, he finds it best not to speak— lest he say something unnecessary or offensive. [break][break] "I'm locked on the chakra signatures of the culprits of this heist... they seem to still be within the metropolitan territories. Are you alert enough to pursue them? We must move swiftly.” [break][break] Kōki doubts his speed will match that of Yashiro’s, but he nods regardless. “Yes. Understood.” He says, betraying not a hint of emotion in his voice; his words matter-of-fact. He was surprised by the audacity of the culprits for certain, but a larger part of him pities them for doing something so bold in front of the Mizukage and a member of the Seven Swordsmen. He feels a touch of anger, disrespected by their flagrant theft and utter nerve. “They’re... in the city?” [break][break] Samehada vibrates with tangible excitement when Kōki draws it, pulling the greatsword from its place on his back. It hungers for chakra, strains against the bandages that keep it from growing out of control, and the swordsman intends to feed it. “Find them, Samehada.” He says, voice low. His connection with the blade allows him to follow where it directs him, even if he fails to sense chakra signatures himself. [break][break] They’re on the move, Kōki. After them! [break][break] “Mn.” He grunts in agreement to Chōmei’s voice in his mind, using the Body Flicker Technique to navigate himself swiftly through the winding roads of the misty city. Villagers hurry out of his way as he cuts through the streets, Samehada in tow. At this point the greatsword had broken free of some of its bandages at the tip, its long, razor scales bristling with excitement at the prospect of a meal: a sign they were nearing their prey. [break][break] The trail leads to a derelict district lined with old, abandoned stores and hollow buildings. It’s an eerie departure from the bustling city just moments before, and the hundreds of crumbling, empty rooms can make for easy ambushes. Kōki pauses, cautious of his open exposure. His gaze roves over the buildings, searching for signs of life before Samehada suddenly twitches with alertness. He maneuvers the blade with dexterity; despite its wieldy shape, Kōki draws it to defend himself. Its scales block a handful of incoming kunai and shuriken— each infused with chakra. [break][break] They bounce off the blade uselessly as Samehada gorges on what little they had to offer, landing with metallic clinks on the dirt. “Not even enough for an appetiser…” Kōki says, allowing his weapon to grow even further. It’s half exposed now, ripping through its restraints with a growl as individual scales on its body grow to daggers in size. “Samehada is getting impatient.” [break][break] The handle elongates, and with speed surprising for a creature its size, Samehada is swung like a long flail at the nearby building, biting through its material as though it were paper. It rips through the outer wall, exposing the ambushing shinobi within, and returns to its original length by Kōki’s side when the enemy ninja reveal themselves— landing on ground level. Their fabric of their cloaks flutter in the wind and settling dust. [break][break] “Stay your blade, swordsman. We’d like a word with the Mizukage.”
[attr="class","caesartext"]Like a predator seeking prey, a feint, dark aura could be seen emitting around the Mizukage's silhouette. The speed of each step he took while dashing, without aide, was quite impressive but it was mainly because of the extra adrenaline that was coursing through his blood due to his anger. Well, to be completely accurate, it was his bloodlust, his desire to kill when triggered. The untrained eye might not even caught a full glimpse of the Boykage as he blitzed by them, their clothes flying in the air as if a powerful gust of wind cascaded by. [break][break] His sensory abilities were able to lead him to one of the abandon districts. It seemed the young Swordsmen, Kōki, was also able to arrive there. [break][break] The Aoyagi Clan were known as assassins who possessed inhumane levels of bloodlust and battle drive. Oh, however, this debacle would be child's play compared to the real lethality that Yashiro possessed. The color in his eyes was slowly fading as he instinctually unsheathed Tenjin via quick-draw, swatting the kunai flying towards, knocking them off their trajectory. He moved almost like a machine, as there was little to no buffering time between any movements he made as he re-sheathed his chokutō. [break][break] Immediately after, his left began twisting, and turning into a combination of one-handed seals, utilizing the SHINKEN NO JUMON. "LIGHTNING RELEASE: THUNDERCLAP ARROW--!!" His voice echoed as he amassed a bolt of lightning, while reeling his right arm back, before thrusting and sending the spear-shaped torrent of lightning-infused chakra in the same direction that the shuriken and kunai that were launched at him came from. [break][break] Buildings toppled over. Smoke assimilate across the complex in the wake of his offensive maneuver. The assailants scurred off into the distance, almost as if baiting the Mizukage. [break][break] The emotion-less gaze of the Aoyagi Lord seemed glaring, as he peered across the district. Now, slightly ahead of him and more leftward, he could see Kōki with the Samehada in tow, and seemingly unbound as it shredded through the side of a building. As was the reason Kōki was normally by the Mizukage's side, or not too far away.[break][break] “Stay your blade, swordsman. We’d like a word with the Mizukage.” [break][break] [break] As Yashiro stood firm within the abandoned district, his hair swayed eerily in the breeze, as if responding to some unseen force. The mist that enveloped the area seemed to cling to him, creating an aura of darkness and foreboding. His eyes burned with a mixture of anger and irritation, a testament to the raw power that surged within him. Yashiro turned his gaze toward the source of the voice, his expression unyielding. [break][break] He observed the figures before him, noting their distinctive sizes and weapons, each cloaked in mystery. Yashiro's voice carried a calm yet commanding tone as he responded: "You dare to confront me, under the guise to be members of the Date Clan from the Land of Iron? The audacity is commendable, but your charade fools no one. Explain yourselves. Why have you infiltrated Kirigakure?" [break][break] The cloaked deviants, seemingly undeterred by Yashiro's words, responded with a taunting scoff and a hint of wit. Yashiro's piercing gaze swept over the figures, his mind calculating the best course of action. He remained composed, however. The weight of his responsibility as the Mizukage bore down on him, amplifying his resolve. [break][break] "Our heist at the Auction House was just a ruse... our real reason for being here is to capture you, Lord Mizukage, or should I say: The Dragon of the Bloody Mist." The cloaked figures seemed to revel in their revelation, their obscured faces betraying hints of amusement. One of them, slightly taller than the rest, stepped forward. Their voice dripped with an air of smugness as they began to speak: [break][break] "We have studied your moves, Mizukage. We are aware of your abilities, your strengths, and your weaknesses," the figure retorted, their words oozing with cryptic confidence. "But rest assured, we have a plan. And capturing you will be a testament to our skills and determination." [break][break] The confrontation hung in the air, the tension palpable. Yashiro, the Mizukage, stood resolute. The mist thickened around them, swirling in a hypnotic dance as the stage was set for a clash between the Mizukage and the cloaked deviants. Yashiro's hand instinctively reached for his chokutō with his right hand, his grip tightening around the hilt. With a measured tone, Yashiro issued a warning. "You may have studied me, but do not mistake knowledge for victory. I am the Mizukage, and the Lord of the Aoyagi Clan. If you seek to capture me, you will face the full extent of my rage." [break][break] The cloaked deviants exchanged glances, their confidence seemingly unfazed by Yashiro's words. [break][break] [break] "Ara..." Yashiro's patience waned as the cryptic taunting continued. In that moment, he executed a verbal prompt that would only be known amongst the Seven Ninja Swords. It was usually used in two situation, when the Mizukage was serious about what he was saying, or when the Swordsmen were to mobilize. His chakra began enveloping around him as he released it, his foreboding presence would seem to be looming over them as they stared into his intense gaze. "You underestimate me so willingly, bakayarō! Prepare yourselves to face the consequences of your actions."
Insufferable presumptions. Kōki listens in silence to the exchange, fingers curled tightly around Samehada’s hilt. The sentient sword writhes impatiently, eager for its next meal; blood still stains its scales from ripping through at least one target when it tore through the building, and he spots the man with a sizeable handful of cuts on his leg some distance away— telltale blood pooling by his feet like a crimson feast. [break][break] The air is thick and unpleasant, and the swordsman stands at the ready with heavy lungs. The hunger of a predator is written across his face, and he’s hunched over like a ravenous wolf, ready to give himself to recklessness. He feels his blood boil and the edges of his vision redden: it takes every ounce of his strength to stop himself from tearing holes in their bodies and razing their bones. The anger of being underestimated is compromising his ability to focus, already marred considering that both Samehada and Chōmei seem restless. [break][break] He doesn’t bother hiding the scowl that takes over the shape of his lips as he bristles like an angered animal straining against a cage too small for his body. There’s something in the cloaked men’s confidence that sets his temper aflame; at this point his bloodlust is a firecracker just waiting for the spark to catch. [break][break] And catch it does, when the Lord Mizukage gives his signal. [break][break] “Time’s up.” Kōki says, but his words are almost unintelligible and feral— an animalistic growl, low and dangerous. His eyes are dark as the void, watching from across the way, pinned on his prey like a steel-tipped dart. He takes a handful of steps forward, slowly, deliberately— it’s a silent request for them to run, but his targets seldom listen. Even in the face of the Mizukage and a member of the seven swordsmen, their confidence defies all rationality. [break][break] Instead they draw their own weapons: blades and tools that Kōki realises are of no poor make. He pities the blacksmith that forges for them, knowing their works are being pointed at the Lord Mizukage himself. Two of the cloaked figures launch their tools at him: a handful of shuriken and kunai. It’s a distraction at best as Kōki effortlessly swats them away in midair with an engorged Samehada. [break][break] It seems, he blinks in disinterest, that they intend for the leader to take on Yashiro alone. It fills him with curiosity— could their boldness not be so unfounded after all? Kōki almost shrugs, his shoulders lift subtly; if he thought Yashiro were in any danger he’d have voiced his concerns, but even Chōmei seems to have simmered down, having not detected significant strength from any of his current enemies. [break][break] Divide and conquer, not a bad strategy. [break][break] “It’s the three of us against two, then.” Kōki says, the corners of his lips turning up to a wry smile. Chōmei scoffs within him. There’s pride in every word of its booming voice. [break][break] I haven’t said I’ll help just yet. [break][break] “Just as well,” The swordsman replies as he readies Samehada in one hand, “The two of us should be more than enough.” [break][break] His opponents rush forth. One circles around, the other swings a katana downwards— the movement is unwieldy, unpracticed, and loud. Their knuckles shine white, squeezing the hilt of their blade much too hard for an elegant strike. It comes down with force, but Kōki is ready. “Earth Release: Earth Spear.” He catches it with an open hand, blackened with aspected chakra, and squeezes. It shatters in the grip. [break][break] His katana now mere splinters of steel, Kōki’s opponent hesitates. It’s a millisecond that will cost him dearly as the genin catches his forearm next and tightens his grip. He hears a crack, followed by a shout of pain, then spins around to throw the man into his ally, whose surprise attack from behind fails spectacularly as they fall like a bundle in the dirt. [break][break] The exchange lasted mere seconds, and Kōki hadn't moved a step. But the two enemies were inert in the dirt just a short distance away, one with a shattered forearm. Samehada whines, it hadn’t been used at all. The genin’s head dips low, casting a shadow over his eyes; he doesn’t feel the joy of victory at all. No, instead he feels as though something is missing. [break][break] “You’re not… underestimating me, are you?” [break][break] Void black eyes shift to catch a glimpse of the Mizukage in this moment. His opponent, the leader of the cloaked figures, had drawn a katana of interesting make, glowing with red chakra. The energy seemed to emanate from the blade itself, snaking up its wielder’s arm like a demon’s grip, burning strange markings in the flesh.
[attr="class","caesartext"]Bloodlust. [break][break] It was quite infectious, honestly. [break][break] With a strong enough connection to another person, Yashiro learned that bloodlust could be used in a way that could ultimately boost the morale of a companion. Or maybe, the explanation was more simplistic than that, the Samehada wielder, was the same caliber of monster as the Mizukage. All it took was his verbal prompt, his signal for him to swiftly move into action. [break][break] The Mizukage gazed upon the overconfident face of his would-be capturers, and then glance at the katana they held in their hand, bubbling with red chakra. The cloaked figure began to laugh audibly, as if he was holding victory itself within his hands. However, despite being underestimated and provoked, the Mizukage was unphased, and unimpressed. Not by the blade, however, it's wielder. [break][break] "With this demonic katana, I will defeat--" [break][break] Before they could even finish speaking, Yashiro sped forth in a blur of movements, closing the gap between him and the cloaked figure in a matter of moments. Leaping slightly into the air once he was close enough, a spinning kick was executed, sending the cloaked figure toppling backwards. [break][break] Recovering, the cloaked assailant cursed under his breath. [break][break] It only took him a moment to collect himself, before standing to his feet and rushing towards Yashiro. However, he was ready, as the moment the moment that he was approached by the thrust of the demonic blade, he parried by quick-drawing the Tenjin and intercepting his strikes. "Is this the best you can do?" The Mizukage asked, his tone low, and laced with bloodlust. [break][break] Pulling back, the assailant attempted to out maneuver the Mizukage by running around him in circles. To his dismay, despite his age, Yashiro is a seasoned combatant with thousands of hours worth of battle experience. This one fact alone was the reason that he was able to follow each of their movements. Once they lunged at him, Yashiro simply pressed off the heel of his foot and took to the sky-- [break][break] Re-sheathing his chokutō as he landed; although, his firm grip remained clenched around its hilt. [break][break] The Mizukage was playing defensive. More-so that he could take the opportunity to analyze the katana that was being used against him. In their brief exchange so far, he was able to analyze it's craftsmanship, and was beginning to deduce what exactly it was capable of. The cloaked figure lunged towards Yashiro once again, but to no avail. This time the Mizukage dashed to the side, once more evading their assaults-- [break][break] The Mizukage's blood began to boil at this point. If there was one thing that he loathed it was incompetence. Unfortunately for them, they were seeping with it. Even their swordsmanship, was mediocre, at best. Just by the way they handled their sword, he could tell, they weren't quite accustomed to using it. Or perhaps, it was a side effect of the apparent cursed seal that was coiling around their arms, even at this very moment. Yashiro noticed it expanded with each strike they took at him so far. [break][break] "A katana that endows it's user with a cursed seal...temporarily increasing both your physical might, and agility... was this how you aimed to kill me?" He asked, albeit a rhetorical question. "I digress," he continued, "you will die here..." [break][break] "You insignificant brat! I slaughtered a majority of the Date Clan to force their Master Blacksmith to forge this blade, specifically to end your life. And I intend to do just that!" [break][break] At that moment, Yashiro dashed forward once more. However, this time, he released his grip on his chokutō and began channeling chakra into his hand. This technique he was about to use required no hand-signs, at all. [break][break] Closing in, the Mizukage first disarmed the cloaked figure by grabbing the wrist of the cloaked nobody as they attempted to slash vertically. [break][break] By this point, a mass of eerie black chakra had began to materialize, expand, and shape itself into what would look like a dragon with three heads. With the amount of chakra being used, his chakra signature would surely be noticed by those surrounding them. Squeezing them by the wrist with what would feel like a vice-grip from a new set of heavy duty pliers, the Mizukage broke the cloaked figures arms by bending it backs and disarming him. [break][break] The demonic blade fell to the ground with a thud resounding. Following this, the Mizukage thrust his opened fist, wrapping his hand around their neck as each of the three-headed dragon began to feast upon their life force, and chakra: "YIN RELEASE SOUL DEVOURING!!" [break][break] Yashiro was literally squeezing the life out of them... [break][break] "Luckily for you, I'm not able to use this jutsu to the full extent of it's power, to drain you of all of your chakra..." He scoffed, pushing them back onto the ground as he released his grip on them. Instantaneously, he unsheathed the Tenjin once more, and with a simple stroke of his sword, he removed their head from their body, which went flying across the sky as blood began to splatter. [break][break] Deep breathing, the Mizukage began to quiet his rage. [break][break] [break] As Yashiro completed his deep breathing exercises, he gradually regained control over his emotions, calming the surging rage within him. With a composed demeanor, he shifted his gaze towards the headless and lifeless body of his would-be capturer. The sight evoked a mix of disdain and disappointment within him. [break][break] "Disgraceful... such weakness," Yashiro muttered, his voice laced with a hint of contempt. He regarded the fallen opponent as an inferior adversary, unworthy of posing a true threat. The Mizukage's high standards and honed combat skills made him acutely aware of the flaws and inadequacies displayed by his opponents. It was, as he would say, a pointless battle. [break][break] Approaching the discarded demonic katana on the ground, Yashiro reached for his pouch, retrieving a Sealing Talisman and a writing tool. With meticulous precision, he inscribed a complex seal onto the surface of both the katana and the talisman. The intricate patterns of the seal symbolized the temporary containment of the katana's powers. [break][break] The Sealing Talisman glowed faintly as the seal took effect, ensuring the temporary suppression of the katana's abilities. Yashiro knew the importance of neutralizing dangerous artifacts, even if they were wielded by weak opponents. It was a testament to his somewhat cautious nature, or maybe he had other plans? [break][break] Once the sealing process was complete, Yashiro secured the sealed katana and the talisman within his pouch, ensuring their safe containment. He regarded his surroundings, taking in the aftermath of the brief but intense confrontation. The air was heavy with the scent of blood, and the silence settled over his portion of the battlefield. [break][break] In that moment, Yashiro contemplated the nature of power and the fragility of existence. With a final glance at the lifeless body, Yashiro's gaze hardened, his determination resolute. He turned away, catching a glimpse of the furious member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. By the looks of it, their portion of this affray was also coming to an end. "Hopefully, he leaves at least one of them alive for interrogation. Then again, that's doubtful... since Kōki-chan's bloodlust transcends even my own."
USED (1): COMING OF SPRING (春の蹴来) CD: 2[break] USED (1): Flying Dragon Slayer Style: Deflecting Shadows (居合術・必殺技) CD: 1[break] USED (1): YIN RELEASE SOUL DEVOURING (陰遁魂喰い) CD: Single Use [break][break]
They truly were… weak. [break][break] It takes his enemies several moments to disentangle themselves from one another, oozing blood mixing with dirt and gravel as they struggle to stand upright. One is largely unscathed, but the man with a crushed arm has broken out in a cold sweat. Pain rides up his bones in excruciating waves as his useless limb hangs limply by his side. Kōki regards their injuries with a total lack of empathy, though he notes there seems to be a determined desperation in their wild eyes— something that suggests their mission must either end in success or their own deaths. [break][break] He doesn’t apologise realising it will be the latter. The man rushes him again, this time without his partner, and swings a kunai wildly about with his functioning hand. The movements are slow, clumsy, and much too predictable as he fights out of a primal desire to survive. Pain has sent a shot of adrenaline straight to his brain, and Kōki weaves his head to dodge each blow with effortless ease. When his opponent eventually trips himself in his mad assault and falls to the ground, he howls in pain— the sound akin to a trapped animal as he lands on his broken arm. Like any good hunter, Kōki isn’t one to consciously relish in the suffering of others. [break][break] Plucking the man’s kunai from his shaking grasp, the raven-haired swordsman wastes no time in plunging the tool sharply into his fallen enemy’s temple, breaking skin and skull for a blessedly quick death. He leaves him there, pulling himself upright to meet the last man standing, marching forward with deliberate steps. Signs of nausea paint themselves clear across his face— likely a result of his exposure to chakra signatures more powerful than he’s used to. The hands grasping his katana are inexperienced, and shaking hard enough for the noise of rattling steel to reach Kōki’s ears. Fear stretches to blanket his every word when he finally speaks. [break][break] Don’t come any closer! I— I’m not afraid to use this! [break][break] To Kōki’s surprise, his opponent drops their katana, allowing the blade to clatter against the ground as he retrieves a strange object from within his cloak. A thin shakuhachi flute of bamboo make. Familiar, ominous markings spiral upwards from its beveled edge to its urushi. By the looks of him however, and the manner by which he is clutching the artefact, Kōki surmises he knows about as much about playing it as he does how to swing a sword. [break][break] That is to say, nothing at all. [break][break] Not willing to leave fate to chance, Kōki brings Samehada forth. With bared teeth and razor scales it rips through the air, gnashing, writhing, hungry for chakra. By the time it returns to its wielder, the man is no more— a husk shredded of chakra and left to bleed into Kirigakure’s paved roads: another casualty of the violence that often visited the village. Just another statistic. [break][break] Samehada spits the flute and a curious scroll into Kōki’s free hand. Its seal is a symbol he doesn’t recognise, so he brings both his findings to Yashiro instead. Proudly, Samehada bristles on his back— as if to claim having found it. [break][break] “They were… weaklings.” Kōki reports, “Entrusted with weapons and artefacts they didn't understand.”
[attr="class","dramaturgynotes"]
now there's a flute too, look at all these collectibles.[break] EARTH RELEASE: EARTH SPEAR (DUR: 0 // CD: 5)
[attr="class","caesartext"]Watching from a distance allowed Yashiro to reflect, analyzing everything that transpired so far. "Cursed objects...their functionality seem similar to the Date. Perhaps they intend to take you from me," he said while looking down, re-sheathing Tenjin as a faint smirk assimilated upon his features at the thought. [break][break] “They were… weaklings... Entrusted with weapons and artefacts they didn't understand.” [break][break] "Agreed. The Mizukage said, nodding his head a single time in agree moment. He took notice of the items Kōki held in his hands, before reaching for the scroll and taking it into his left hand. "Gess-hoku..." he murmured under his breath, recognizing the mark of the seal. "I think things have just become very interesting, Kōki-chan." He said while taking the curse containment talisman he had just written, and unrolling the scroll in his hand. [break][break] "I trust you can seal these items?" he mused, handing the scroll he just received from him back, before then placing the second scroll he had on his person and the talisman onto the ground. [break][break] The Gesshoku... that was a name that Yashiro had only come across one other time, during the reign of the tyrannical Shodai Mizukage. They were an organization that he learned, during their fated battle years ago, that the Shodai was affiliated with. Or, maybe it was more accurate to say, he was controlled by? Yashiro was never able to truly determine all of the full details, but what he did discover was that the Gesshoku were an organization consisted of a few hundred members, and among them were some who claimed to possess the power of the Ōtsutsuki... the power of the Gods. [break][break] "We will be tightening gate security and throughout the village after today. Any venues that had reservations will be rescheduled... he sighed, thinking about the work he will have to do later. Not that it was so bad, he did have his pupil Reika around the office, after all. She was a young intern, who hoped to be his aide one day. Yashiro took a liking to her, so he often allowed her to help with certain receptionist-based duties. Though, the truth was, she had a crush on Yashiro and he kind of took advantage of it, while still utterly ignoring her affection.[break][break]
"If these three were affiliated with that organization...then we can't avoid what's to come." He looked over to the swordsman once more, his left hand resting on the hilt of his chokutō. "Soon, I'll have to inform the other Kage about the organization that belongs to the seal on that scroll... about the Gesshoku."
[break]