Chapter 19: The sand won't come out!

It has been a hot summer in the Elemental Nations. Some say it was the hottest there ever has been in recent memory. 

However, the summer was the same temperature as it was the prior year. But still the anticipation for the season to change fills the air from every corner of the known world due to colossal social change. There hasn’t been such a seismic shift in the world order since chakra was gifted to the entire planet by the Sage of Six Paths. 

Since then, the ninja has been battling each other for hundreds of years. Only unifying on rare occasions due to money, power, or blood ties.

Now something else moves the entirety of the ninja population more than anything ever has before. 

Fear. 

Fear of the unknown has pushed hundreds of ninja clans to ally themselves with their long tenured rivals. 

The dream of one extremely powerful man has brought about irrevocable change throughout the entire planet. 

But even he could have never predicted the amount of bloodshed that had been set in motion by the pursuit of his vision for a better future.  

Maybe he had forgotten what it was like to be without vast amounts of power. Perhaps his lack of hunger for it has made him ignorant to the viciousness hiding behind human cowardice. 

What will a child born and bred with unparalleled desperation for power accomplish in the future? 

Shogo POV

The last six months of my life have easily been my worst on this planet. Gengetsu had taken his brutal training methods up multiple notches. With a more hands on and analytical approach. Where before they felt like sadistic trials with a time limit, they now felt like nonstop ass beatings for an entire day.

We would start the day meeting at the usual lake and immediately go into physical training. Which started with me being chased around the lake by his armed clones, to me pulling a boulder with chains around the lake while avoiding projectiles. 

When Gengetsu is satisfied with the amount of effort I've exerted, the bastard will chuck a katana at me and force me to stand in the middle of the lake. The lake by the way has now had explosive tags splayed over every inch of the surface except a circular spot in the center. 

It didn't come off to me as very respectful to his ancestors who apparently make up this lake but whatever. 

With the katana in hand, I am tasked with not being blown sky high by the tags while Gengetsu and his clones throw flaming Kunai at me from around the lake. Sometimes he'll attach a wire to a kunai and repeatedly attack me with it as I deflect the others. 

The amount of stab wounds and burns that I've suffered from this hellish exercise cannot be counted. But I've quickly learned when to accept the damage, deflect, change position and never to leave my back exposed. Gengetsu targets my back and blindspots quite a bit, so I have begun faking like I'm not looking to help myself out a bit. 

Finally, if I am not maimed by the end of those exercises. We then start my most hated training of all; hand-to-hand combat or tai-something. 

These sessions always end with a broken bone for me. No matter how I've approached it or, goddess forbid, if I make a mistake then Gengetsu is going to make sure I pay for it. 

Over extended arm or leg equals dislocated knee or elbow. Going lower results in a broken jaw, going higher almost always makes for broken ribs. 

I've tried to block a punch or a kick from the blonde psychopath, but it always ends in a clean break of my arm or leg. One time the bone from my forearm broke the skin and I fainted. 

I've since learned to try not to be there at all when Gengetsu swings at me like the blonde gorilla he is but his pursuit is unrelenting. 

Even a glancing blow from my demented teacher had me spitting or later peeing blood. 

My threshold for pain has skyrocketed immensely these last few months. The scar tissue has built up on my palms, knuckles, elbows and the soles of my feet like never. 

It felt like plates of rock had attached themselves to my skin. My hands were no longer rubbed raw when I finished dragging the boulder by the chain. My feet no longer blistered from the long hard days of relentless running. I punched a tree the other day and I barely felt the impact even though my knuckles marked the bark. 

I could feel myself getting significantly stronger and faster from Gengetsu's hellish training. Although I have miraculously maintained my slight build, I could feel the power radiate from my muscles with every movement. 

The physical progress I could see that I am making is the only thing keeping me sane. I don't even dread the two weekly sessions anymore. Some training days I don't even remember getting up from bed as it has become so routine for me. 

Depending on how I wake up the next day, either with sore muscles and a couple bandages or completely bedridden with casts to keep my broken appendages in place. I can gauge how well I did that day during training. 

Lady Hanagetsuya has been taking care of me all the same. Providing me with food, healing and moral support during the hard times. 

 I have no doubt in my mind that I would have died from any number of the horrible injuries I suffered had it not been for Hana piecing me back together each time. 

Most of the time, I am grateful for her continued support. Other times, I can’t help but curse her for keeping me intact just for the gruesome cycle to continue.

My annoyance with her constant repairing of my broken person, could never turn into real resentment however as I could see how every therapy session physically drained her. 

On days I come back from my weekly torture session with just a couple of bumps and bruises, a spark of relief flows through my body. When I walk through the threshold of the house under my own power, Hana doesn't need to magic my innards back into my body. Those days are very few and far in between but I cherish them because they lessen the burden on both my psyche and Hana's seemingly shriveling frame. 

On the two days of the week, I don't have to worry about getting gutted by that blonde homicidal maniac. The rest of the week Hana continues schooling me relentlessly on anatomy, geography, politics, herbology, chemistry, and fucking math. Even if I was bedridden, riddled with numerous freshly healed injuries she stood over me with a goddamn book all day. 

The urgency and seriousness of her lessons had ramped up dramatically within the last six months. No doubt because she sensed Gengetsu had taken off the "kiddie" gloves in my training. 

And if the near constant educational brain rape wasn't horrible enough. On the days where I at least can walk in a straight line and hold a wooden bokken in my hands, Hana's schooling me on my sword and unarmed technique in the backyard. 

The nerve of the old bat! What kind of healer beats the shit out of her patient with a wooden broom handle after healing all their wounds?! Hana pokes and whacks me from angles that I least expect when I step within 5 feet of her.

 I step left, poked in my kidney. I step right, smacked with the fire of a thousand suns on my left calf. Step forward, my big toes get unjustly assaulted. But this next part really pisses me off. Get this, if I take a single step back from my starting position, the damn old woman gives me this infuriating ass pity smirk. Like I'm scared or something!

The old bag made sure to tell me that every time she hits me with the broom that means I’m dead metaphorically. Hana emphasizes that while I did already have the ability to sense lethal attacks, I would need to also learn how to weave through non-lethal attacks.

I immediately gathered that this is what Gengetsu is also trying to instill in me albeit in a much more brutal fashion. The goal of backyard training is to successfully move her without getting hit by her once.

One day I just straight up rushed her and swung wide, my mind clouded by embarrassment and rage. Immediately I regretted the decision however as the butt of the broom handle slammed against my throat, effectively choking me out for a good 3 minutes. 

Once my windpipe had been healed, Hana reprimanded me that I needed to take this exercise more seriously and to never repeat my uncoordinated attack against Gengetsu as she assured me, I wouldn’t be getting away with just a sore throat. 

Training combat between me and my enemy was hard because of the extreme reach disadvantage I am always at due to my now 4'8" height. It didn’t help that Hana not only had long arms but also a 5 ft broomstick in her hands and never moved from her spot; still, it was up to me to make her dodge. 

I’ve tried multiple approaches in the first week to get her to move without getting hit. I tried running around her and attacking her back but apparently that was a trap because Hana can make her arms go full double jointed at the drop of a hat. She didn’t even turn her head around to smack me in the cheek with the stick! 

Then I decided to go low and fast, sprinting in a zigzag pattern while keeping my torso parallel to the ground. This one helped me avoid a majority of the first few swings as I felt them pass over my head, but I never saw the front of her sandal coming before it hit the end of my chin flush. 

Next, I decided to try an aerial assault, I leapt as high as I could in the air, fully intent on coming down on Hana with all my wrath. That strategy died before I could even get out of the air as Hana simply caught the back of my shirt on the top of the broomstick and flicked me into the small outdoor pond. 

After a lot more days of bumps and bruises, I finally realized that Lady Hana wasn't just being a seventy-year-old bully but was in fact trying to make me think about my footing, keeping my attacks compact, closing the holes in my stances and most importantly, manipulating distance between me and the opponent.

This training has opened my mind to how vulnerable I've been my entire life. Every human anatomy lesson that Hana gives me is a horrifying revelation in how fragile my mortal coil really is in this incredibly hostile world. All my vitals have been on full display as I foolishly gallivanted through my shitty life. 

A few months ago, in the eyes of most Water country folk, I was just a walking bag of blood narrowly wading around in a field of point things. However, all of the beatings and forced education have sharpened me so much that I now have a bit of an edge to protect myself against the blades of the two-legged apex predators that roamed this goddess forsaken land.  

A rapidly growing paranoia will prevent me from ever going back to such a state of vulnerability. Every move I make is guarded and based in the anticipation of hostility. 

Everything from the way I breathe, walk, talk, and observe has changed; especially when I am around people. Even the way I slept at night has changed! Now I can't sleep unless I curl up against a wall furthest away from all entrances. 

My nights usually consisted of me having a staring contest with the door in my bedroom at Hana’s house waiting for Gengetsu to swoop in and catch me off guard. 

Improvement is becoming my obsession. My mistakes circulate in my mind for days on end. Everything has begun to feel dull if it doesn’t pertain to me working to become a killing machine. 

Hana’s usually delicious food is becoming tasteless; the sight and sound of the endless ocean don’t fill me with the same glee as it did years before. Now I see the water as a source of potential power that I have not yet been allowed to tap into yet. 

Between both of my Hozuki teachers, I am being drilled on everything a ninja needs in their arsenal besides three things: Genjutsu, Ninjutsu and throwing shit. 

I am too fearful to bring up ninjutsu with Gengetsu as I have no idea what the physical repercussions of me questioning his teachings would pertain. Also, Gengetsu apparently has made it very clear to Hana that she is not to teach me those topics either.

His words were that my close-range capabilities must reach a standard that would make him feel long range techniques won't be wasted on me. I guess I sorta understand the blonde turd's thought process but that doesn't mean his shitty attitude pisses me off any less. 

Kitajima itself is also transitioning, and if it is into something better, I have no idea. The chaotic hustle and bustle of the largest aquatic trade hub in the world has been replaced with a staunch silence. The drastic shift isn’t because of a shortage of people, it is because of the largely increased shinobi presence on every inch of the island.  

Hundreds of heavily armed shinobi and kunoichi, each wearing the light blue sash of the new Kiri regime, now monitor the movement of everything through Kitajima’s docking village. They can often be seen sitting atop the roofs of the many districts or standing along the roads daring anybody to step out of order. 

But that is only if they aren’t busy marching a legion of distraught chain-bound people from the docks to the southwestern part of the island. 

All the previous inhabitants of the island now avoid going outside. No one wants to get caught up in the harsh new order that Byakuren and Gengetsu had set forth as generals for the Kiri movement. I guess they fear finding themselves in chains as well or being butchered because of any perceived act of rebellion. 

It is clear to me that the brutal tactics that Byakuren had talked about employing that day in the palace have been working to a frightening effect. Every new arrival that is escorted by the Kiri militia through the streets of the somber shipping village is visibly broken, whether they arrive in chains or not.   

I have been given a Kiri sash of my own to wear. I make sure it is prominently around my right bicep every time I venture out of the Hozuki compound. It acts like a repellant to the gazes of the many hardened ninja littering the entirety of the formerly busy docking village. 

The blue sash puts a visible fear in the powerless residents of the island I pass by. The ground becomes especially interesting for any sashless civilian I walk past. Even the kids that were former members of Tako's gang that I see wandering around town in their new uniforms are quick to avoid making eye contact with me. 

The memory of seeing that brunette bitch, who bailed on me during that fateful Hozuki heist, picking up indisposable waste on the roads in that horrid green uniform makes me chuckle every time. 

From what I gleaned after bribing one of the younger little shits with a loaf of bread, Tako left his minions to starve while he pursued a life of asskissing on the frontlines of Byakuren's task force. 

They desperately tried to keep the group together with Tanaka being the glue, but they all got brutally detained by the Kiri ninja patrol within two days. 

The lot of them have been put to work as street cleaners while they sleep in a hastily constructed wooden monstrosity with all the other clanless orphans that have been gathered from across the country. 

I couldn't even imagine just how many kids are being sheltered in that moderately sized wooden shack. There must be a bloodbath every day, because it seems like all they did was herd the wild animals. Unless they have some way to keep all of them in check, but I doubt the majority of the ninja would care to even try. 

Apparently, Tanaka has been missing ever since they got rounded up on the beach five months ago. No one's seen or heard hide nor hair of the fucker since. Disappointing because I would have loved to see that high and mighty jerk picking up trash. 

Bastard always looked down on me because I wouldn't subscribe to the "pack mentality." If anything, they were all Tako pets, with him feeding them whenever he remembered. Tanaka probably went to go chase after his fucking owner. The thought of Tanaka getting patted on his head by Tako while wagging his tail back and forth like a dog makes me chuckle.

Sigh~

I miss those days a bit, where I could at least dare to dream of a peaceful existence working as a farm hand somewhere out in the Land of Noodles. All those scraps of money saved up for absolutely no reason. 

Leaving was the first thing that came to my mind when Genshiro handed me that imperial money order for three million yen. I felt numb holding all that money in the palm of my hand when it really didn't mean anything anymore. There wasn't enough money in the world to help me escape Gengetsu's wrath. 

And after another moment of contemplation, I quickly discarded my grief for my now impossible dream. As much as I hate every second of my apprenticeship under the blonde psychopath, I can't see myself wanting to return to how I was previously. 

Then I was at a loss on what to do with such an enormous sum so I asked Hana what I should do with it. Seeing Hana's eyes damn near pop out of her head when I told her the amount was hilarious. 

She sternly told me to hurry to the finance exchange building and create an account under my name then deposit all the money. She added to make sure that I let the clerk know that this was a Hozuki order to make sure there was no funny business done with my money. 

Honestly, I didn't really care so I just nodded my head at her advice and set off down the main road to the exchange place. The sooner I got rid of the money the better in my mind at the time, before I got all depressed again about Noodle Country. 

However, I didn't expect to come across a better way to spend my money along the way to the bank.

~Flashback~

While hopping across the rooftops to get to the exchange building, I decided to stop before I passed by a familiar shitty establishment that had been boarded up. 

It was the same place where I bought that damn hunk of junk sword. I had to fight the urge to burn the place to the damn ground, but I relished in the fact the con artist at least got his just deserts. Sucks that I couldn't have seen it all go down though. 

However right when I was about to continue my trek, my ears perk up at the sound of metal being grinded. 

The sound was extremely faint, but my ears couldn't ignore it. 

As I got closer to the door of the now more abandoned looking shop that was once called the Pearl, the sound grew a bit louder but remained muffled. 

I immediately deduced that the sound must be coming from underground. Even now the acute increase in all five of my senses is amazing to me. Looking back on it, if they hadn't been working on anything at the time, I probably would've just passed the shop by like I'm sure many other people did. 

My interest had peaked, and my curiosity needed to be satiated. Why was the shop closed in the middle of the day? Why had it been boarded up with weak pile wood? Why is someone working so far underground when the backroom had a serviceable furnace in it? 

I briefly saw a flash of fire from behind the curtain, when I came to the shop the last time. 

I yanked off the poorly nailed on hunks of rotting wood and they came apart like wet paper. Wincing from the unnecessary noise, I gently brushed the debris off my hands. At the time, I was still getting used to my newfound strength. 

After carefully pulling off a few more pieces of wood, I slinked into the doorway of the rundown shop intent on not making any noise. I bypassed the creaky floorboards altogether by using chakra to walk on the ceiling. 

The noise got louder as I walked closer to the back room. The room was pitch black, but I knew that the large desk was about a foot from the back wall. 

I slipped through the doorway into the back, by now my eyes had adjusted to the darkness so I could see outlines of stands that used to have swords and other crap draped on it. The furnace that I thought I saw in the room was nowhere to be found. 

After searching around a bit more, I saw a closed trap door with light coming from it. The door had a lock on it but one hefty yank later the lock had come off in my right hand having left a hole in the door. 

I peered through the hole and saw a ladder leading to the basement with an intense shining light coming from a place I couldn't see from the left of the ladder. When I carefully fully opened the door, the noise assaulted my ear drums.  

By that point the screeching of the metal had become almost unbearable, but I was determined to see this through to the end. With the utmost caution, I sauntered down the ladder and as I reached the bottom, I came face to face with the source of all the noise. 

There in that basement worked a robust young man. He looked to be quite a bit bigger than me with a sturdy looking build. All in all, I wanted to avoid direct confrontation as much as possible. His face and ears were completely covered by a black mask as he pressed a large sword with gigantic gloves against a rapidly moving stone.

 I had to squint my eyes from all the sparks that were being made. The boy seemed to be completely absorbed in his craft as he hadn’t noticed me yet. Totally ignoring the roaring flame from the furnace to the right of him. I quickly surveyed my surroundings and metal contraptions that I had never seen before littered the walls and floor.

Every corner of the room was filled with junk. I stepped around stray pieces from piles of metal scraps, careful not to draw the guy’s attention before I got close enough to him.  

I got into position about four feet away from the oblivious masked man not wanting to give him any time to even think of retaliating when I made my presence known.

I sprang into action and ripped the dude from his seat at the workbench by his shoulders, the large sword in his hands tumbled to the floor and he tried desperately to pull himself from my grasp. 

I tightened my grip enough to inflict maximum pain but not enough to injure him. 

“Stop struggling and stay quiet if you don’t want me to snap your neck!” 

My captive seized up and stopped moving immediately. Confident he wouldn’t put up a fight anymore, I forced him to sit back down before I kicked the big sword the masked guy had at his feet across the room. 

I calmly hopped over the scared shitless masked man and perched facing toward my captive on top of the stone wheel that had stopped spinning.   

I spent a few moments observing the shaking individual in front me, the kid hadn’t said a word nor made a noise. Was he a mute or something?

I mean I realized I told him to shut up, but he didn’t even make a peep when I scared the shit out of him a few seconds ago. Now he just obediently sat and waited for my instruction with his head down while I stared down at him. Honestly, I felt kind of bad since I seem to have scared the guy stiff. 

“Listen man...What is your name? And why the hell are you locked down here in this shithole? Did that old goon kidnap you or something?” 

The reaction was immediate. The masked dude jerked his head up and shook it furiously,

“Mrrrphhh -frrmppp dat mnnphh shuffff…” 

“What?” 

I could see a visual realization from the guy’s body language that he had forgotten to open his mask before he started to talk to me. He slides up the black mask and I am greeted with a pale sweaty sickly-looking face. Dark bags hung under both eyes and if I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that the dude was still looking at the ground if not for the barely visible teal pupils trained on my face. 

“Uhhh sorry...I said my workshop is not a shithole!” 

That made me scratch my head, 

“Wait wait wait… So, you're telling me you made all the weapons that old asshole was selling upstairs in this basement workshop?” 

“Yeah”

He said simply with a nod. Then he pointed upstairs to explain further. 

“I used to make them in the backroom up there, but a certain incident caused the “old asshole” and I to go into hiding, so now I have to do all my crafting down here away from the debt collectors. Sleeping next to a furnace has not been a fun experience.”

“So you’re the one that made the sharp piece of junk sword that almost got me killed?!”

I yelled at him with a glare. 

“Wha-”

A brief confusion flashed on the man’s face before he realized. 

“So, you’re the one who bought my first sword! Hahaha-” 

“Hey! It’s not fucking funny, your shoddy work almost got me impaled goddess damnit!” 

Seeing the intense fury on my face the man then spilled his guts. He told his name was Matsu and that the Pearl was a general pawn/weapon shop his family has owned for eight generations. He proudly remarked that last bit with a smile.

The smile fades off his face as he explains he and his father, Rato, now run the place. A couple of setbacks from the past two generations had made the shop fall on hard times that still hadn’t recovered from in fact the last incident might have been the final straw.

Apparently, Matsu’s grandfather was a talentless drunk and died relatively young. And after Rato Inherited it, he had left the shop completely abandoned in his youth, likely in spite of his deceased father. 

Rato came back to Kitajima about eight years ago with nothing to show for it but a five-year-old Matsu under his arm.   

In the first five years the Pearl had been back in business, Rato had managed to sour what little reputation the store had left by selling sketchy weapons that were refurbished or giving people horrible deals on the junk they tried to sell. 

Rato didn’t invest any of the shop money back into the shop but instead gambled it all away in a nearby underground casino. 

Before Matsu had begun making the weapons, Rato would sporadically take loans from any person that offered. Most of those offers came from very seedy sources so Rato would often disappear for multiple days at a time, likely working to pay back his loans. 

This time Rato had been gone for about three months, the longest he had ever been gone. Matsu had been staying down here the whole time hidden from the loan sharks above. Steadily honing his craft while waiting for his father to come back.

After Matsu finished his recap of his last few months, he immediately apologized for his father tricking me. 

"I'm sorry you were tricked into buying one of my experimental wares. Should you ever decide to give my stuff another chance, I'll make sure to craft you a sword that'll put the last one to shame." 

The sincerity in his words was palpable as his eyes held an intensity they had been lacking since the beginning of our conversation. 

I nodded in agreement then Matsu pointed at the unfinished blade I had kicked away.  

"I've been working on that sword for about five months. It's been taking so long because I must be really careful not to waste too much of the little materials I have left. It shouldn't take me more than four days to finish it and when I'm done, I'll give it to you free of charge." 

This statement shocked me to my core. Matsu being so willing to give me something he's been working meticulously on for five straight months without asking for anything in return was so unbelievable. Could the fact that his first blade failed me really bother him that much? 

Never had I met a person so genuine about their craft and I doubt I would meet many more. 

I hopped down from the wheel walked to the previously discarded sword and picked it by the still warm blade careful not cut myself with edge. The sword was much larger than Matsu's first blade as it was longer than I was tall, and the width was about three times that of my slender forearm. 

I dipped the blade more into the light provided by the furnace and immediately noticed how peculiar the blade's color was as it reminded me of blazing sand from a beach on a rather sunny day. 

"Hey Matsu! Why the heck does the blade look like it's been filled with sand? 

Matsu's determined gaze was still locked on my face. His eyes searched my face as if he tried gauging whether I would be able to understand the answer. 

…

….

….

I thought he was going to divulge that it was some ancient forging technique that he used but instead, 

"Well, it looks like I filled it with sand because I did. I needed to find something to mix with my metals. So, I dumped a bucket of sand right into the mixture to make the structure more compact and less fragile." 

Matsu smiled as he regaled his thought process. Patting himself on the back for his ingenuity. 

That only served to make me angrier than I already was and must have shown on my face because Matsu quickly retreated behind his chair. 

"Wait wait wait!" 

His desperate plea caused me to wake up from my rage filled haze as I was already primed to strike down the creator of the blade with the sword raised above my head. I take a deep breath and lower the blade before glaring at Matsu. 

Matsu continued cowering behind the chair before he explained that sand is a valid material that can be used to make a sword. Seeing the skepticism still in my eyes, Matsu quickly demonstrated with his fingers wide apart pointing towards the space in between each digit, 

"The sand helps fill these little gaps that no matter how much hammering I do won't be filled. This serves to make the blade sturdier but also retain the lighter weight that I like to make my swords." 

At his weight remark, I then notice just how burdenless the huge sword was in my right hand. I hadn't even noticed that it should've been impossible for me to not struggle at all while holding a blade that massive over my head. 

I laid the flat against both my hands to fully scrutinize the sword in case there were any other weird creative choices Matsu may have made in its conception. The cursory glance I gave the blade wasn't enough as completely missed the peculiarity of the blade in my possession. 

It completely escaped my notice that the sword was dual edged and had huge sharp point on top. All the swords I've seen only had one edge and round off at the top. 

Honestly, I liked the fact that this sword was dangerous from all angles. Not only would it allow me more flexibility in my attacks during a battle but it would keep me on my toes, so I don't injure myself. 

My distance management training is going come in handy if I am going to swinging this behemoth around. Also, so long to my reach disadvantage problem! 

But I still had one more question before I go through with the thought I had while Matsu was telling me all about his family's financial hardship. 

"Can you make this sword as sharp as the other one was?" 

Matsu grinned at me with a genuine smile, 

"You betcha! It'll be even sharper than the last one. My sharpening is constantly being improved since it's my favorite part of the process. That's what I was going to spend the next four days doi-" 

"Whatever man! Just take my money already damnit!" 

I lightly place the sword on the ground before turning around to get out of the stuffy basement. Before I reached the bottom of the ladder leading upstairs, I heard Matsu yell out to me, 

"W-wait! You can't!" 

I interrupted whatever he was going to say by waving him off over my shoulder not even bothering to turn around. 

"You can pay me back by making me cool shit whenever I want it for the rest of your life."

My three-million-dollar imperial order made contact directly with Matsu's eyeballs. As I was now entirely sure I wanted this dude to make all of my weapons from now on and to ensure that he needs to have access to some materials and a place to work. 

All in all I'd say this was a much better use of my money than have rotting in some storage somewhere. 

~Flashback End~

It has been about four days since my encounter with Matsu in that basement. I've been staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours, but in reality, I only opened my eyes about five minutes ago. 

Getting up in the morning after a training session with Gengetsu was always hard, however, yesterday had been particularly difficult both physically and mentally. Instead of their usual game of cat and mouse at the end of my conditioning period, Gengetsu came up a whole new method of torture. 

I was ready to go in my taijutsu stance, bouncing around to keep myself from cramping up after dragging the boulder around the lake for a couple of hours. 

Out of nowhere Gengetsu's clone produced a small pack and tossed it at me. I caught it and was greeted by a large bundle of an assortment of ninja throwing weapons. I looked back at the clone in genuine confusion at its spontaneous generosity. 

Suddenly, I am pulled into the ground all the way up to my torso by a pair of pale arms and then a Gengetsu clone army began to rain hell down upon me. 

I frantically threw out kunai, shuriken, senbon, and etc to deflect the multitude of explosives sent at me from all directions while trying to claw myself out of the splash zone. 

I was doing okay at first none of the explosions were close enough to do any real damage in the beginning, but I started panicking when I ran out of projectiles in the bag and the Gengetsu clones ramped up their trying to kill me. 

As I was finally pushing myself out the ground and scrambling for some discarded weapons to my right, I was violently blown forward with dozens of tiny rock pieces lodging themselves into my back. 

The pain was so great that I could barely keep my grip on all the kunai and shuriken in my hands. Not a second later, I was up on my feet again running around throwing projectiles as my life depended on it. 

I wasn't allowed to stay in one place for even a moment as I would have to retreat from the occasional set of pale white arms that popped up from the ground to pull me under once again. 

Blood ran down my back mixing with sweat, the moisture became an after thought as had put my complete focus was in making sure I wasn't caught in anymore explosions. 

Because I am still alive and in one piece this morning, I guess must've done an okay job maneuvering through all that bullshit sent at me yesterday. Before I apparently blacked out because I don't remember walking back to Hana's home from the lake. 

'I mean where the fuck was his clones pulling all those explosives from anyway!?'

I roll out of the bed and on to my feet. As I stand up straight, my back cracks in multiple places. Hana must've healed my back last night since there isn't any of the expected pain today from my injuries but only stiffness. 

I slowly make my way to the door of Hana's medical bay. Sliding the door open, the familiar smell of grilled Whiting, freshly cooked white rice, and pickled seaweed graces my nostrils. 

It is a meal I would never get tired of despite having it countless times over the last few months. Hana imports a spice called "black pepper" that I absolutely cannot get enough of on fish and rice. 

I'm licking my chops just thinking about stuffing my face as I start making my way over to the living room. 

When I enter the doorway to the living room, a sight that both horrifies and enrages me presents itself at the normally inviting wooden table in the center of the room. 

The left of the table say Hana in her usual spot sipping on piping hot tea. However, in place of her usual zen-like exterior is a grim expression. And directly to her right sitting facing me in the doorway, is the real Gengetsu chowing down on my flipping food! 

I haven't seen the real Gengetsu in at least three to four months. I can tell this is indeed the real deal because not only is he eating my damn food but I can actually smell his fucking cunt hair gel from across the room.

*smack* *chew* *chew* *smack* 

"Oh! Look who's finally awake!" 

*chew* *chew* *gulp*

"You sure took your sweet time waking up considering the fact you fainted like a wimp so early yesterday." 

I clench my fists as I make sure to keep my face neutral. This is a very dangerous situation right now and I cannot afford to lose my cool over his snide comments. Gengetsu has changed somehow because he seems more on edge despite the front he's putting on. 

Gengetsu sports dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and his normal goatee had spread along his chin into an unkempt beard. Even his hair isn't as neatly slicked back as usual; it's almost as if he did it in a rush before he came here. 

Gengetsu frowns, seeing that I didn't rise to his jab before standing up from his seated position at the table. He is still fully decked out in his battle uniform; heavy dark gray pants with gray knee and shin guards on the front, a black skin tight long sleeved shirt with a gray chest plate, shoulder plates along with gray guards completely around each forearm. 

It wasn't just his upper features that are disheveled as his entire uniform looks to be slightly discolored and have random scraps along the armor. 

"What no words of welcome back for your sensei?" 

Gengetsu looks at me expectantly with an eyebrow raised but all I can manage is a grimace. 

*Tsk*

"Ungrateful little shit! Whatever! I am here to inform you; you are now officially called to join the unification effort. You have a day to get your affairs in order then you will follow me to the frontlines at sundown. Any questions?"

The revelation comes as a shock to me as I expected to have at least till the end of the year before I would have to fight for that insane old man. What could have possibly happened that they would need my help in this craziness? 

Even Hana is great perturbed by this turn of events as she worriedly looked at me before trying to speak to Gengetsu on my behalf. 

"Lord Gengetsu isn't it a bit to soon for hi-" 

But Gengetsu just cuts Hana off and ignores her like the jerk he is, as he completely focuses on my face. 

"Good. Make sure you're at the docks by the end of the day all packed and ready to go. I don't want to have to find you…" 

And with that Gengetsu vanishes in a puff of smoke. 

I could only inhale and exhale in frustration as Gengetsu had swiftly annihilated any hope I had of avoiding the massive conflict taking place across the country. 

~siiiigghhh~

"Well fuck…"