When the comforts of civilization begin to dull our senses, we must never forget that in the beginning, there was war. And war. And more war. Long before there were empires, there were humans consumed with greed and the hunger for power. Resources, territories, information—these were the forms of sustenance upon which we preyed. Today, we call such habits vices. Oh, how arrogant we have become! Are we not still impelled by those primordial emotions? Is the advent of war so far-fetched? But alas, for you to truly understand, we must dive deeper into this land’s half-forgotten past.
There was a time when might was the only law that humankind knew. Fearsome clans roamed throughout the land, seeking amenable grounds within which they could take root and opposing forces against whom they could test their mettle. Given the irregularity of nature’s bounty, certain regions appealed more than others, and dominion over such coveted territories became the spark that ignited the earliest inter-clan wars. These fierce, internecine affairs tended to conclude only when one side had decimated their competition into oblivion, and many clans of story were rendered extinct during this period.
The victors of war, having claimed their territories, often made truces with surrounding locals, offering protection in exchange for access to the yields of agriculture. Over time, certain communities emerged as more dominant than others, either due to numbers or sheer talent, and their rapid expansion would force smaller, neighboring communities to either collapse into their fold or be devastated. When the dust settled, humankind found itself divided into the five major territories that we are familiar with today. And was the bloodshed over? With our lands obtained and our bellies filled, were we finally content?
06/01/2023 June is for Juggin
We made it y’all, another month of OTA, and fresh off the press we have another promotion ready. Leaving behind the opening bonus sadly, we welcome the jugggggg! June is for juggin AKA working hard, so we are making it a double rewards month for every mission completed! Yes we said it's double rewards, now you all can really get into the thick of those builds if you work hard enough. And who knows what you might uncover in the process. AND all jobs are free to enroll no quest EXCEPT ANBU(Black Ops) roles.
He was known as a man of many words, speaking them mightily and with great range simultaneously in between effortless puffs from his premium grade cigars, his message never missed by his intended audience – even if that meant force was involved. Where the hell does he get all those cigars...? But that didn’t matter now. I have been putting in my own personal brand of work, both medically as well as a tactically destructive force for Kiri, so I was not taken aback when I had been summoned by the village’s highest-ranking shinobi. Of course, this was just me playing the long-game; I was determined - even in the face of death - to uncover the truth. A conversation was all he wanted, and I was all but willing to have it; but I also knew this was the best way for my "in". To be included. To be confided in.
So as such, I came in well dressed and on time as the early evening greeted me on arrival, just after the sun began its farewell. Best of all, there was a mention of food in the “invitation”. You bet your ass I came hungry… As my stomach growled, I had been cleared by security to proceed, so I opened the doors to the meeting hall I was instructed to attend and was near instantly found myself sent into a proverbial coma. Without restraint, an amazing repertoire of smells and flavors impacted my olfactory and gustatory systems almost immediately, with little protest on my behalf. It was a literal assault on my senses, and it was more than welcome to it.
Mochizuki sat alone in the spacious room, accompanied only by the bustling chefs and workers preparing the venue for the Kage's meeting. Such meetings were a rarity, but today was different. He was meeting with one of his top shinobi, a Hyuuga with a similar skillset, particularly focused on Taijutsu. "I've always been intrigued by this clan and their practices," Mochizuki contemplated, reaching across the table to grab a large lionfish with his bare hands. He took a dramatic bite, tearing off a portion of its flesh.
"You've outdone yourself tonight, Maki," he complimented, observing the dedicated chef and his team. Among all those under his rule, Mochizuki treated the cooks with utmost fairness. Cooking was an area in which he lacked skill, so he cherished these individuals for their unparalleled culinary expertise. His treatment of them would make one believe they were his finest shinobi. As he continued to enjoy his meal, he heard the creaking of the door, signaling Ichijin's arrival. The shinobi entered, muttering to himself.
"Welcome, lad! Take a seat and grab a plate. It's been quite some time since we last talked. What's the new kill count?" Mochizuki warmly greeted, inviting Ichijin to join him.
I could hear that deep, raspy boisterous yet appreciative voice, one-too-many-smoked-cigars as a permanent tone he adopted. The topic? Dinner. That same amazing smell that subdued me coincidentally entranced him all the same. Yet despite the distortion in his gruff vocalization, the depth of his voice and the direction it carried was heavy. I could hear his words literally form in front of me as I entered his personal space, a humble guest working his way through the man’s castle. As I neared the meeting place, security in tow and very apt at detaining me, double, triple, and quadruple checking me, the epicurean assault on all my senses only intensified.
“Greetings, Mizukage Mochizuki-sama.”
“Humbly I report as a response to your summons, and humbly I will leave the topic of the extinguishing of life for another time. I prefer to focus on how I heal, not how I kill.”
Without hesitation, I strolled up to the table as instructed. The amazing nature of the presentation, the relaxed mood of my leader…so many things that reminded me this was no ruse, and perhaps, a doorway of things to come. I was still very much focused on the discovery of my path, but for the first time, I began to wonder if that was limiting my future. It was that doubt that brought me here today. I wanted more, and if anyone had an offer for that, it was the giant man before me. Perhaps the investigation into my blood could wait. Without any reservation, I casually sat down, one leg crossing the other, my body dipping slightly to the weight as I adopted a more relaxed nature. It was time to eat.
Noticing Ichijin's lack of response, Mochizuki grunted softly while taking another bite of the lionfish. As the chunin contemplated the food before him, the Mizukage couldn't help but remark,
"Hard of hearing, huh?"
Chewing his food thoughtfully, Mochizuki, known for his propensity for violence, restrained himself, aware of the task at hand. After swallowing his food, he scanned the table momentarily before speaking again.
"Well, everything tastes good, Hyuuga. It seems like you've never had a proper meal before. Dig in... This feast was specially prepared for us," he said.
Pausing from chewing, Mochizuki indulged in a few puffs of his cigar before taking another bite of the sizable fish and continuing the conversation.
"I've heard that you've been striving to become a medic. Why the fuck would you choose that path? I thought you Hyuuga were supposed to excel with your hands. It feels like you might be wasting my time. For what you were sent here for, where’s that noble fighter’s spirit of yours?"
While I was initially taken aback by the Mizukage’s glaringly obvious physical response to my casual nature – he wasn’t all too happy with my first response – it certainly made sense when I considered the subject at home. A man amongst men, the Mizukage was infamous for his short temper and brutal responses. I was tempting fate by not playing along with his inquiries, even if they felt they tested my convictions. But then again, as bloodthirsty as he was, I was no saint myself. I walked the path of the healer for certain reasons – them being mine and mine only – but I too had been known to “cross over” in order to get things done. In other words, the hand that healed was more than capable of hurting as well.
And while we never really had any form of rapport or camaraderie other than as shinobi of the Mist, he was my leader after all, and so our interactions thus far had been limited to necessity. Only when I was needed would we meet. And so, this invitation was certainly unprecedented. For that reason, it was probably best that I increase my agreeability factor. I was, after all, hoping this man would help me uncover the truth. Little did I know that his hand had left its prints all over the sequence of events that occurred sixteen years ago; the very same events that brought me here, to Kiri, from…god knows where.
But that would best be left for another place and another time.
While it was true our friendship was virtually nonexistent, and that I existed only as a tool in his vast arsenal of weapons, inanimate and organic alike, we did share some common ground – our penchant for brutality. And while his was excessive and mine a bit more balanced and calculated, they nonetheless shared the same face. As such, I would restate my previous answer, serving up the kind of response on a proverbial plate that he most certainly would eat up. Now, I just needed to make sure I was not patronizing.
“Allow me to rephrase my previous statement, Mizukage-sama…”
“...think of it this way. As I aspire for greater heights while in your service, I acknowledge that I cannot do so with just one mindset. Even the fiercest of warriors are balanced.”
“And so, along with my gentle fist comes a destructive one. Along with precise and controlled violence comes undeniable forgiveness and healing. And to control both equally, that is why I walk the path I do. A path of two fists – one that giveth…
“…and one that taketh away.”
I gave my response matter-of-factly, a deadpan tone employed so that I could convey the proper sincerity, as well as maintain the seriousness of the topic. I began to get comfortable in my chair, but kept a steady gaze locked towards the other side of the table, where Mochizuki devoured the most succulent of meals. I would wait for an improvement in the air before indulging myself, though I began eyeing and carefully preparing myself a plate.
Mochizuki continued to chew his food, attentively listening to Ichijin's response, which proved to be as vibrant as he had anticipated. Thoughts of 'Healing & Destruction' ran through his mind. Although not his preferred approach, he recognized the reasonability of perceiving the two as coexisting harmoniously. After savoring the final bite of his fish, he casually discarded the bones and reached for another.
"That sounds intriguing,"
he commented while taking another satisfying bite of the generously-sized fish. Such experiences were foreign to Mochizuki, who had always embraced life through the prism of combat. He had never truly grasped the value of a healer, as he believed that if one suffered grave injuries, they should probably have perished in the first place.
"I suppose you possess more passion for the vulnerable than I do, though I consider it a wasted emotion," Mochizuki remarked, accompanied by an air of nonchalant finesse.
"When you pledged allegiance to this village, you also swore to uphold violence, for that is the path we forge in the mist," he continued, momentarily setting aside his fish to take a couple more drags from his cigar.
"Could you elucidate how this newfound understanding will render you more formidable, Ichijin? I confess my confusion, as a Hyuuga I once encountered held a similar mindset, which eludes me. If the weak dare to alter their circumstances yet lack the will to do so, they ought to meet their demise."
With what seemed like a sense of approval being displayed over my words, I began to feel a bit more relaxed, turning my attention to the luscious meal before me. And while I did not have the current level of hunger to devour such a comically large fish, I certainly heard the curry call my name. Steaming and full of intense and pleasurable aromas, I knew that would be that best way to recharge my body after a somewhat physical mission. Mochizuki-sama was right; I was not used to such lavish meals. You’d think the opposite due to my heritage, but nothing could be further from the truth.
You see, despite my lineage to the main and original house in Hi no Kuni, I was treated as very much lesser than by most, if not all of the clan here in Kiri. I was constantly looked down upon and always told that I should appreciate being there, and that I was lucky to be taken in. Strangely, I was never quite told just how I came to be. You see, I was ignorant at the time of my true heritage, choosing to make their lies truth and believe what I was told. Oddly enough, despite constantly being demeaned, I was allowed to uncover and possess knowledge of the clan that was reserved only for those in the main house that carried high status within the clan. It was an odd dichotomy I chose to dismiss during my younger years, buying into the head trip they sent me on through their constant verbal abuse.
But as I grew older and the world began to make sense, I began to ask questions. My demands were strangely met with concessions, results I had never dreamed I’d achieve before, let alone think of asking for. For example, with my arrival at the rank of Jounin and my mastery of the clan arts, I began to demand more access to the compound’s facilities, hired help, and amenities. And while it did not change the attitudes of the other clan members towards me, it certainly changed how I lived. I was still getting used to this life, a fact which had become very much obvious to Mochizuki. Regardless, it seemed to matter not to him, as he continued to press on with his rhetorical questioning.
“Ah yes, the bloody mist...”
“...truth be told, I live in a world of absolutes. We have, always have been, and always will be a nation drenched in the blood of our enemies. That fact will not change. However...”
“…what better way to keep that way of life going, than to keep the ones doing the killing safe, healed, and always fighting at their full potential?”
After blowing away some of the steam, I took a chance at the curry – and I was not disappointed.
“Mmm...”
“...that was excellent.”
“And by all means…the weak may fail to alter their circumstance, yes, and that is what makes then weak – but I am not so. I am strong.”
“By being able to both destroy and create, my strength will project trust. It will demand fealty. It will invite allegiance. And with that allegiance comes power...”
With a satisfied expression, Mochizuki set aside his empty plate, having finished his last fish. Observing Ichijin as the jounin sampled the array of available dishes, Mochizuki hadn't anticipated the response he received. Although he didn't fully agree with the young man's viewpoint, he could comprehend his perspective.
"Longevity is important, I suppose," Mochizuki acknowledged. "But, at the core, Ichijin, the only true healing anyone can find in this world is death."
Pausing for a moment, he locked eyes with his subordinate, attempting to pierce into his soul.
"I cannot echo your sentiment of healing. My entire life has revolved around murder, leading me to places few can fathom," he continued. Taking another moment to collect his thoughts, he placed the cigars back between his lips. The room gradually cleared as chefs and staff swiftly cleared away the dishes and leftovers.
"People like you usually meet their demise in pursuit of balance, leaving behind a noble tale that you tried to help. Meanwhile, people like me live on eternally in the hearts and souls of those affected by the lives I've claimed, regardless of the reasons, in the form of bodies in the ground" Mochizuki asserted. Raising his right hand, he examined it intently.
"You may have heard tales, but I have truly been a scourge upon this world in the most profound sense, and I haven't lost a step," he proclaimed. Suddenly, Mochizuki snapped his fingers, causing steel doors to seal shut throughout the room. Soon after, the sound of rushing water permeated the space as it began to flood.
"To be cursed, that is the duty of a shinobi of the Mist, Ichijin. I believe we're growing soft around the edges, do think you could still heal the world if you’re part of the problem?" he declared, his tone filled with a hint of disdain.
As soon as my speech ended, I dove into the rest of the curry with no abandon. I simply did not desire anything else. It’s flavor profile was unheard of, and I had become an addict after only a single taste. A single dose. Just one quick hit, if you will. And so it did not take long before I began to lose any semblance of manners. Much like my superior before me and the unfortunate fish that found itself diminishing in size while being gripped to death, my bowls filled just as fast as they emptied. There was no end in sight when it came to my ability to ingest curry. The spell was so savage that my entrancement nearly caused me to miss Mochizuki’s words.
But I would realize my aloofness and quickly snap back to reality, just in time to catch his cold, hard gaze lock with mine. I listened to his speech keenly, not even breaking concentration when the wait staff came over to remove our plates, cutlery and napkins, and began to vacate the room. I understood that gravity of the message, yes. It is Mochizuki that had not truly understood me, or so that is how I felt. A hero? Me? Absurd. This was not a haven for the heroic.
“Oh no…I am no hero.”
“It’s not about worrying about self-preservation. Men like yourselves…you take. You don’t ask. You are the tip of the spear. The first ones in. The ones to get it done. People like me? We offer something else…”
“…we offer longevity. And we definitely are not heroes. Just men with different means to the same end. And yes, violence is still in our wheelhouse - it's just a little more...refined.”
I had no plans of dying any time soon. I had plans to excel. To grow. To reach greater heights. To gain greater power. Dying was not a part of my agenda, and as such, would do anything in my power to convince Mochizuki of this fact, even if it meant enduring endless rounds of inquisitions. But fortunately, that would soon not be the case. Unfortunately, the interrogation routine would now be replaced for an activity that would emphasize survival - specifically, my own. As he continued to berate me and express just how much of a clear example I was when it came to what was wrong with society, snapped fingers brought upon us an immediate and unexpected peril.
“...really?”
I remained with little to no words as the room began to flood, my mind instead focusing on the situation at hand. The doors were made of steel. We were both locked in. The room was flooding. Obviously this was some form of test, right? Why put himself in danger, just to prove a point? And then it hit me - come to think of it, rumors of Mochizuki’s powers included that he was made of water itself. If that was indeed the case, then maybe he was plotting my death after all. He was an infamous madman, after all. A man that took and never asked. A man that forced his enemies to blood offerings just so they can experience a fleeting hint of survival, a chance that never truly came to them. And so…Byakugan! I would do my best to survive.
As soon as my eyes gave me the information I need about the room in order to devise an escape and exploit and any potential escape points, I would act.
The soothing sound of water always brought a sense of relaxation to Mochizuki, a childhood comfort he cherished. It was the one place where he could truly unwind. However, as he stared across the table at the young Hyuuga, a sinister grin slowly spread across the Mizukage's face, setting a foreboding tone for the meeting.
"Byakugan," the boy declared.
Mochizuki braced himself for the moment, thinking he was prepared for whatever was to come. Little did he know, he was gravely mistaken. In a matter of seconds, the water level in the room began to rise dramatically, already reaching waist level.
But Mochizuki wasn't satisfied. "Byakugan. That's not enough," he sneered.
With lightning speed, Mochizuki's moved and his chair slid across the water and crashed into the wall, before propelling himself behind Ichijin. His exceptional Taijutsu skills allowed him to move faster than the human eye could follow, positioning himself directly behind the young shinobi. In his hand, he held a singular weapon, Gariantou, whose three tentacles swiftly wrapped around Ichijin, constricting him tightly and leaving him helpless. Mochizuki's hand, glowing with a bright blue aura, firmly gripped Ichijin's skull.
"Our paths, intertwined yet divergent, will not escape this curse," Mochizuki declared. "Healing the world requires more than mere compassion from the mist. I will ensure that we are capable, through and through."
With these words, Mochizuki forcefully started draining the chakra from Ichijin's body while he remained bound by the weapon. Mochizuki was aware of Ichijin's lineage and the potential for him to escape, but he figured Ichijin would deem it unwise to let him free, as the situation could escalate further.
"Today, I permanently sever you from your clan," Mochizuki concluded.
Releasing his grip on Ichijin's head, Mochizuki left a trace amount of chakra in his body, allowing him to keep his eyes open as the room continued to flood. Ichijin, being a skilled shinobi from the mist, adapted to the water naturally, his body floating effortlessly. As Mochizuki's hands performed a series of hand seals, a large jar materialized in the center of the room. The jar descended into the water, shattering the table and causing a wave to surge towards them. Illuminated by a single Kanji that read 'Hachibi,' in the center of the oversized jar held great significance.
"Hahaha... I wonder how this will unfold," Mochizuki mused.
With his attention returning to Ichijin's body, Mochizuki continued to flow through hand seals. Simultaneously, he nudged Ichijin's floating form towards the jar as his hands emitted a brilliant blue glow.
He would apply one hand to the jar, and one hand to the Ichi’s body. This moment would cause a violent surge of chakra to shoot through Mochizuki’s body, before funnel through to his subordinates. This chakra would hit Ichijin’s body like a defibrillator causing the water around him to splash around a little, but because the room was pretty getting being filled at this point it wouldn’t last. However, given the room's filling state, the effects would be short-lived. Submerged in the water, the process continued.
For Ichijin, this experience transported him back to his first day in the mist, reliving memories of his initial encounters with ninja tools, betrayal, and love. Alongside the violent surge of chakra came a flood of malevolent emotions, threatening to overwhelm his very being.
