"How many are there left?"
"No clue, maybe twenty more"
These two were the newest addition to the supporting division of the Great Battle Regiment belonging to the Hidden Cloud Village.
Their names did not matter as they were just two more souls to be slaughtered as canon fodder in the recent war. However, for the sake of the audience...
Canon Fodder 1: Rank of Genin and specialised in the use of explosive tags and basic hand to hand combat, Hayato Mizaki. Husband, and a father to a singular daughter.
Canon Fodder 2: Rank of Genin and specialised in the use of kenjutsu and basic hand to hand combat, Aya Tenjou. Husband, and a father to a singular son.
These two poor fools were chosen to gather the remaining corpses from the fresh battle against the Second Division of the Hidden Leaf Village.
According to the battle records released slightly after the end of the war, the battle took place in the south west region of the Haran Bay, and for those who have studied their war maps that is just a stone's throw away from the border between the Hidden Cloud Village and the Hidden Leaf Village.
As a result of small skirmishes here and there, along with the hidden villages stealing resources from other countries and other hidden villages, war has finally broken out and spread its chaos onto the lands.
And it is exactly these two poor fools who have picked the short end of the straws and ended up with the cleaning duty.
"I can't wait to finish, my stomach's killing me'
''Tell me about it, I can smell the wine and meat from across here''
''Why is it that we are the ones who always have to do this?''
''I'll tell you why, its because our luck is dog shit''
''Good point''
Who knows why, but these two fools have been chosen for clean up duty six times in a row.
''Maybe its because we always pick the sticks with the blue end''
''What do you mean?''
''Have you never noticed? The captain always picks the stick with the red end and we always get the ones with the blue end''
''And? You don't think he marks the longest wooden sticks with the red end and the shortest end with the blue end? He wouldn't? Right?''
''I don't think so no...''
''Right''
''Right..?''
''Right....''
''Right...?''
F-O-O-L-S
Bodies of any shinobi are usually considered vital sources of information, and can be researched to figure out hidden techniques of the dead user, it is not often bodies would be burned in such a high volume.
However, the Hidden Cloud Village have decided they want to start the war off with a clear message to any and all parties. And so, entire enemy camps of shinobi are burned.
The burning embers of corpses streaked across the afternoon sky, dying the yellow leaf like horizon with a dark stain.
The air smelled of flesh, smoke and the aroma of the wine trailing in the air along with the rain slowly mixing with the earth underneath their feet.
The pile of flaming corpses looked similar to a crimson hill from a distance. If not for the up close grotesque details, one might even say it is quite a serene display. Well, not if you are part of the pile of corpses.
Hidden deeply within the sky high mountain of defeated enemies was a single heartbeat refusing to go out, a weak flame exposed to the harsh wind.
A young boy of just fifteen, dressed in a blood stained flak jacket, dark hair, black pants and a matching long sleeve shirt.
The boy was trapped directly underneath the burning corpses, around the outer edges of the base of the pile.
Out of sheer luck the flames hadn't yet reached his body.
''Where the hell am I?''
He muttered as he awakened from his deep stupor, his eyes blinded by an unusual mix of coagulated blood and mud.
During the battle he was hit unconscious by an enemy shinobi from the Hidden Cloud Village, fortunately right before the enemy could deliver the final hit and move on to the next opponent, several kunai with explosive tags attached were thrown to the left hand side of the shinobi setting of a mid scale explosion.
In the dust and the confusion, both the boy and the cloud village shinobi were thrown off course. Only difference being was that one was lucky enough to survive with no injuries and the other had his limbs torn off leaving behind nothing but a slightly discoloured stain on the earth's soil.
As to which is which, well, I will leave such an obvious answer to solve upto the audience.
The boy still gripping onto his shabby looking sword in his right hand, finally cleared his eyesight somehow and came face to face with the truth around him.
He wanted to scream, or at least make a sound but the stench of scorched flesh clogged his lungs as he choked on the air trying to enter his body.
Blood, dirt and dead empty faces everywhere.
Everywhere he looked he could see blood dripping down from above, dirt and mud from the naturally wet soil and the dead expressions of the surrounding bodies. With a large majority dying with a clear sign of pain, fear and desperation on their faces.
The boy quickly calmed down though, he wasn't exactly a rookie when it came to bloodshed, even if the current situation was definitely out of his comfort zone. And just as he was about to decide on his plan of escape, the fools came back.
''I'm nearly done on this side, how about you?''
Hearing the unfamiliar voice, the boy's ears perked up and his feet shifted, slightly adjusting himself to a more defensive position... Well to any defensive position he could muster considering his stuck position, his sensitive ears have always been something he has been quite proud of.
It was his only remarkable trait.
He never had much talent when it came to hand to hand combat or the necessary reserves of chakra to learn, yet alone apply any offensive jutsu in a battle situation. But his ears, that's a different matter, his ears can be said to better than even those of trained shinobi hounds.
A lot of people have even questioned his possible ancestry to the Inuzuka Clan, who are widely known for their canine feats.
His ability to hear enemies approaching from vast distances has saved his life multiple times in the past, and it's also how he ended up in the Sensory Division of the Hidden Leaf. But right now, it's also why he might end up being burned to death.
''Just a couple rows left''
''You wanna flip a coin again to see who's gonna set them on fire?''
''Nah, there's no point in me wasting my chakra like this, you can do it''
''You sure? Didn't you want to try out the new technique you've been learning?''
''Nah, its okay, there's a decent chance it might just blow up in my face''
''Fair enough''
Hearing all this, the boy's heart quickened and his own heartbeat started beating inside his head like a war drum, threatening to shut off once and for all.
The moment stretched and every second felt eternally longer than it should. His blessed ears registered the footsteps coming closer and closer through the damp earth. His grip couldn't help but tighten around the sword in his hand, with his knuckles turning pale beneath the grime and blood.
Out of mere coincidence, the boy of mere fifteen sighted his reflection in the edge of his blade and for the first time in his life, he saw the truth. Weakness.
Hidden deep within his iris, a revolting, repelling, sickening strain of weakness born within himself.
His senses turned bleak, and a strange perception of destiny and fate took over him.
Hi senses dulled, swallowed entirely by the rising tide of panic and revulsion. It wasn't burning to death that terrified him...it was dying while still being this...pathetic. Whilst, still being confided to this weak shell.
It wasn't easy to admit, but it has always been the truth. Throughout, his whole life, not once has he ever had the strength or the ability to make a decision for himself let alone that of others.
What was the reason behind why he lost his mother and sisters to those 'flesh merchants'? Weakness.
Long before the system of nations and villages was introduced into the lands, the warring states period existed. During these times, the average lifespan was thirty, meaning a boy around the age of fifteen was considered to be a young adult.
And to this day, his nightmares of that night haven't stopped. His mother and two sisters ripped from their beds and lost forever. At the time, his father wasn't home as he was working as a mercenary and was hired by the local shinobi clan for a task.
Before he left, his father said to him.
''I won't be home for a while, and when I'm not here you are to protect the household''
''Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?'' At this point, the man's voice became stricter as he clenched his son's hands. His eyes clearly met his sons. One pair reflecting youth and potential and one pair reflecting the harshness, cold and cruelty of the world.
This pair knew exactly what the hands of 'man' were capable of.
The boy nodded.
''When I'm gone you are to listen to your mother and take care of your sister, understood?''
The boy nodded.
Seeing his son like this, the father kissed his wife and young daughter goodbye and left.
A few days later, when he returned from his travels and rushed home to his humble shed, the first thing he noticed was the shattered door and the broken gates.
He found his son unconscious in the living quarters.
When the son woke up from his sleep, he explained everything to his father through tears and snot.
Listening to his son, the father didn't allow himself to blame his son for such a thing. But the man?
The man that lost his wife and daughter? The man that knew the likely end of his wife and daughter? That man gathered his thoughts and locked away his emotions.
Life continued. And soon life did become easier and safer with the introduction of the village system by Hashirama Senju.
But even then, the son could still feel a hint of resentment locked away behind his fathers eyes whenever they interlocked with his.
The father was kind, but this kindness only served to fuel the boys self hatred for his inability, for his pathetic actions...For his weak shell.
This was also the moment, the strain of weakness was born within the young boy.
Why did his father have to volunteer on his behalf when the first recruitment's to the war began?
Why did his father die in his place? Why did his father pass on the family heirloom sword to his weak hands? Why did he allow those people to spit on his fathers grave?
Why did he allow himself to be beaten black and blue by his own comrades?
Why did he allow himself to be treated like the joke of the division?
Why the hell was he born with this fragile cover?
Weakness that's why.
All these volatile thoughts flashed throughout the boys mind, stirring and simmering inside of him. Mixing and transforming into something else.
Slowly but surely, anger was born alongside the strain of weakness inside the boys eyes.
Anger stemming from the end of his spine to the tip of his skull. Anger which set his heart racing for its next beat and his lungs for their next dose of oxygenated blood.
The type of anger that blinded ones mind and took over, anger which rang like the loudest of bells as if declaring its arrival.
The anger fought back against the weakness, pushing it back into the deep corners of the abyss.
But the weakness refused to let go of its lands that easily. This was his land, which he discovered and which he conquered. It was his by right, by divine right if necessary.
And so, anger wasn't enough and started retreating.
The boy decided he had enough, enough of being treated as such and of being himself.
He wanted to change, completely, entirely, fully, wholly and absolutely. With no comparison whatsoever.
And so...Defiance was born.
Defiance refusing submission of will, mind, spirit and body. Defiance in the face of struggle and obstacle. The defiance of authority and establishments hovering over one's head.
Defiance descended into the realm of weakness.
Defiance took a step and banished its obsolete ruler.
And so...weakness was gone.
What remained was a changed persona, one wouldn't notice easily but the boys eyes did in fact change.
It is said that a persons emotional state could infact effect a persons appearance and characteristics. And this is exactly what has happened. The once dark eyes of the young boy finally became clear. A dark muddy lake transformed into a pure ocean.
These were the eyes of someone who had enough. Sharp eyes of defiance.
One of the two fools, Hayato Mizaki, stopped a few footsteps from the base of the burning pile. The scent of burning flesh and copper hung so thick in the air, it made his eyes water, and the dark smoke sure as hell did not help.
''Ughh, It smells even worse, this close up''
''Yeah, no kidding'' Aya replied, whilst flicking his blade through the air.
Hayato bent down, poking at the base of the pile using a nearby metal rod he found.
Then-
A twitch.
Barely visible, but it was there.
''Wait a second'' He muttered to himself as he shoved another charred leg out the way.
Then he just froze.
A pair of bloodshot eyes of pure clarity stared back at him.
It was also at this moment that a strong rain starting pouring from the heavy clouds.
''Shit, there's one alive'' He yelled, already readying the hand signs for his technique.
The boys felt different, more sure of himself, more in control.
The boy's newfound instincts exploded as he twisted his right shoulder out from the weight of a nearby burned corpse and cut his blade upward in a desperate arc. It was a last resort attack, fueled by pure emotions rather than skill, nevertheless the blade drew blood as it cut across Hayato's left thigh
The blood flew through the air and landed in an abstract artistic method.
''Aaaghhh!!! God damm it, get him'' Hatato couldn't help but scream.
''On it'' replied Aya.
He crossed the distance between the two in a single swift step whilst his blade drew two arcs, clearly trying to bisect both the upper and lower part of the boys body.
The boy threw himself to the side just enough to avoid the first arc of the blade, but the second managed to cut a line across his ribs. Blood splattered across the damp earth as the boy screamed in pain.
Not just out of pain but to force his body to move, he kicked off a scorched log of flesh as he hurled himself out of the file.
Now with his body free, he set his feet against the ground with his blade dragging right behind him.
''The bastard still has some fight in him!!'' Hayato growled at the boy as he limped whilst weaving his signs.
''Doesn't matter, we'll just cut him down like the rest''
With his feet planted on the fround, the boy fully felt his new state. His view of the world changed, the two foes opposite him seemed...lesser.
Before, if he were to face an enemy shinobi he would cower but now? Not now, in fact he felt a hint of excitement and a hint of familiarity with the once foreign blade in his hand.
The blade felt smooth as if made to fit into his palms.
Everything felt natural.
What the boy failed to even notice was his stance changing. His upper body leaned forward, his legs felt loose and ready to explode as if a gazelle were to sprint, his left hand swayed to the side in a relaxed manner and his right hand?
His right hand held patiently onto the blade in his palms, his wrist supple ready to change direction and his upper shoulders ready to move and guard with the flat edge of his blade.
This was the stance of a shinobi inclined towards kenjutsu. Towards swordsmanship.
A natural gift.
Seeing this, Aya Tenjou felt threatened. As a kenjutsu specialist himself, he knew what it meant to take on swordsmanship. In his view, the boy across him was a gifted child, a gifted child whose life he definitely had to take.
The stance in front of him was something he has been trying to achieve a majority of his life as a shinobi, and has so far he has failed to do so. Seeing a younger shinobi like the boy in front of him perform such an achievement, angered him beyond measure.
Aya moved in, trying to close the distance between his foe.
The boys ears quickly caught the shift in Aya's feet, the faint scrape of sandals on the mud giving away his intentions.
Aya closed in and drew an anger driven arc with his blade yet again, this time the boy pivoted himself by lowering his upper body, narrowly dodging Aya's blade.
With a flick of his wrist and shoulders engaging, the boy in return sweeped his blade upwards in a graceful arc parrying with a scream of metal against metal. The clash rattled his bones, but for a reason unknown to him the pain made his mind awaken even further.
Aya counter attacked again and again in a continuous spree of sharpness.
And each time, the boy parried every attack with sparks of metal flying all around,.
At this point, Aya was running out of stamina, right now he was struggling on his last legs.
The boy on the other hand, was only getting started. As opposed to his weak stamina from the past, his current heart was full of agitation, pumping blood throughout his entire being.
''What the hell is wrong with you? Struggling with a pipsqueak like him?'' Hayato shouted from the sidelines, his bleeding leg prevented him from actively joining.
''Shut the hell up!! You're not the one fighting him, focus on finishing your technique'' Aya replied.
Jutsu or techniques of any kind usually took a decent amount of hand signs to go through before being ready to be unleashed.
''Understood, but at this point you should release the flare'' Hayato replied, whilst still focusing on his hand signs.
Taking his advice seriously, Aya took out a rigid ineflexible stick from his pouch at his side using his spare hand whilst still paying attention on the armed 'child' in front of him.
He bit off the top of the stick similar to a cork of a bottle and then pointed the tip right into the sky. Shortly after, a bright crimson red streak signal shot across the sky.
'Dammit, he's signalling for reinforcements to come' The boy saw this and a hint of panic sprouted in him. He was sure that he could handle the two in front of him, but what about two more? Five? A whole camp of hundreds? Not happening, atleast not yet...
Throughout the whole fight with the foe in front of him, he hasn't said a word as his training was still clear in his mind and body. One of the first rules, was do not engage in conversation with the enemy. Focus on dispatching the foe or an easy way of escape if necessary. Only issue was that there was none.
All his exits were blocked either by the two foes in front of him or the piles of burning corpses in multiples around him.
He steeled his thoughts and body, and this time he went on the offensive himself.
The tide shifted and he didn't hesitate, with a sharp breath his body blurred with his blade at his side. His opponent barely had any time to react before metal clashed with metal, and a bright ring rang out like a gong through the raindrops in the air.
'What the hell does the hidden leaf feed their kids?'
Aya struggled to defend himself as he only barely managed to parry the child's blade.
And before long, he was being pushed back by entire steps one by one.
The boys feet shifted and his body sprang forward in a straight line, heading directly towards Aya.
Leaning into his blindspot from the left, the boy drew an arc from the lower left side to the upper right side across the torse of the shinobi in front of him.
'He's fast'
It was too late, the blade swung and drew a line across Aya's upper body.
With a painful hiss, Aya's body fell. It was also this point the boy's luck fell short.
''Tri-Seal Ignition'' With a loud shout, Hayato completed his hands signs.
A high end B ranked technique of an explosive nature, more than enough to decimate a small camp.
A volley of three tags shout and sank into the earth around the young child, once sank multiple ink made lines started interlocking together resulting in the formation of a tight diagram trapping the boy inside.
One.
Two.
BOOM!!!
A massive enclosed explosion was released, a cloud of volatile fire and smoke trapped the boy in a dark sphere of earth and rain.
''Fuck!!!! Couldn't you wait for me to keep my distance?'' Aya shouted from a nearby cloud of dust.
At the last second, Aya somehow pulled through the bloody line across his torso and managed to avoid the deadly range of the explosion. The damm idiot Hayato forgot about his own comrade, the mere fact such dangerous techniques are passed to such fools makes the entire Hidden Cloud a fatal enemy.
''The fuck are you complaining about?!! I JUST SAVED YOUR LIFE!!'
''Your the one who couldn't get rid of a single kid''
''Shut the fuck up, dont make me tell me truth to your wife!!!''
''The fuck do you mean?!! What truth? How about you mind your god damm business?''
''Stop with the bullshit!! You know damm well what i mean, you think I didn't see the bunch of whores you bought with your last paycheck? Let me tell you, the whole camp saw your demented ass!!''
''AND? YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT?!! MATTER OF FACT, let me tell you, you know when you thought your wife was cheating on you? Guess what? You were right, it was me and her!!
''THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!! I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT!!''
''Fucking deal with it then, not my fault you married a whore who only wants real men!!''
''I'LL MURDER YOU, YOU SICK FUCK''
And so the two fought in the mud, two grown sick men fought in the mud like children.
Knocking their teeth out, breaking their knuckles against their own bones, and spitting out blood and screams of saliva.
Just for a moment, everything calmed down.
In the disappointing measures of the world, everything sank in.
The chaos of lands, the deaths of innocent bystanders in the war and the murder of children against children as organised by the elders of society seemed...somehow not as bad.
It was all so disappointing in its truth, to the point one could only accept it.
The rain seemed denser, the smoke of the burning piles seemed darker and the earth itself seemed void of colour.
And yet, in this dark veil, one person held defiant.
This was the deciding moment in the life of Aki Hisakata.
This was the true exact moment during which the entire course of his life changed.
Here, trapped in the south west region of the Haran Bay, surrounded by burning piles of corpses in the damp mud of the soil and the heavy cascading rain from the heavens, alongside these two retards and precisely 2.4 miles from the nearest Hidden Cloud enemy camp.
''Enough''
A distorted voice rang out in the crisp air.
''I've had enough of you''
A distorted voice born of the deepest chords of the throat.
Looking over, the two men still rolling around akin to sickening pigs in the mud, were interrupted in their childish acts.
The smoke finally cleared, and the dirt settled.
There, the boy, blade still in hand, grasping at straws.
On one knee, with blood layered, ash stained, flesh charred and clothes partly gone on one knee. His entire body supported by the handle of his sword, with the edge stuck in the ground. Large sizes of his flesh were burned off, torn and gone.
Lord knows how he survived the explosion, coincidence, luck or pure will. This type of technique was used to break open barriers and fortresses during combat operations, it wasn't exactly made to be directed at a person.
This spoke of two volumes, first, Hayato is a complete demented fuck, second...Well...Hayato is a demented fuck.
When the explosion happened, Aki could only think of one thing. 'Not again' 'Not again' 'Not again'
Again he was pushed aside. Again he was forced into submission, and again he put up a weak front.
He was caught off guard and hit by a fatal attack in one fell swoop.
'Damm it all to hell, what's even is the point'
'If I'm gonna die today, I'm atleast taking these two fools with me'
And so, the defiance in him burned bright.
He tried to stand up, but his body screamed in protest, his left arm laid limp, his right arm missing flesh, his left shoulder dislocated and three of his ribs cracked. With his lungs burning with every breath, as if the gentle air was too harsh for his lungs. Not to mention both his legs seemed to suffer the brunt of the explosion.
Pain seized every single part of his body. Yet, to him the pain seemed so refreshing, mind refreshing. The pain meant he was still alive and the flame within his core still lit.
''Aaghghhhhhhhghhhhh!!'' His scream rang out throughout the plains.
The scream startled the two shinobi into stupor, it was an animalistic scream. A primal one.
But he still managed to get his feet.
''AHHAHAHAHAHA!! The fuck do they feed those kids in the hidden leaf?!!'' Hayato commented.
''Who knows, but either way the kids gonna die today, you've noticed have you not?!!''
Reinforcements came.
This was the moment, the moment which Aki Hisakata changed forever.
The moment which every ounce of weakness was truly shed from his coil.
This is the moment his legacy came into being.
The Wolf Of The Leaf.
The Sinker Of Haran Bay.