Reborn

The Order

A withered hand covered in wrinkles and liver spots confidently lifts itself into the air, summoning his loyal guard. His bony fingers are curled into his calloused palm that display a hidden strength that contrasts his noticeably old age as a sole shadow manifests itself in front of him. Their bone white mask effectively hides their identity, although Hiruzen knows who stands before him. A familiar shade of Sarutobi brown hair creeps from behind the animalistic bare-bone mask. 

Hiruzen leans forward. Dark brown eyes remained trained onto the ground; a loyal soldier dedicated to only him. A pawn that was more than willing to move across the board for him. Someone who he knows he can trust, and won’t fall into Danzo’s clutches. 

“Whatever you hear from this point on, will be regarded for your ears only.” Hiruzen calmly states, the pipe burning tobacco in obscene amounts. His guard bends the knee, “this mission doesn’t exist in the records and won’t.” 

The implication is heavy. 

“Yes sir.” A monotone response, a dull voice warped by sealed regulators to further hide the face behind the mask. Their posture is confident and at ease, which further pleases Hiruzen for his choice in espionage. A throaty hum protrudes from his dry throat as Hiruzen swings down the metaphorical executor’s ax. 

“The gag order has been broken and there has been a verbal report from a trusted confidant that this leak may threaten the National Security of Konoha,” Hiruzen calmly states despite ordering a violation of the peace clause in the same tone where he would discuss the weather, “you will not report to anyone except me about the progression on this mission. I give permission to use lethal force. Eradicate all leaks regarding the fox and erase the bandit survivors.”

His guard bows his head in acknowledgement.

“Surveillance will be required, and I give my full permission to use any tactics you see fit to contain the villagers should they show signs of knowledge. None of these techniques are to be traced back to Konoha, everything is to be buried and kept to the highest degree of secrecy.” 

His elite guard remained on their bent knees as he passed down his judgment. 

“You will head out to Wave country immediately, assemble a small team within the Hokages Guard that already have the seal to take with you. Make sure you aren’t seen leaving.”

“Yes sir.”

A quick flick of the wrist is all that’s needed for the man to flicker into nothing. Hiruzen clears his throat for the next upcoming meeting with the next genin team. His large oak doors groan open as the chime of bickering children and exasperated teachers overtake the small room, Hiruzen lets a smile fall onto his face as he releases a warm chuckle. A quick slap to the back of the head for one of the loud, rambunctious children takes place.

“Greet your Hokage.” An embarrassed teacher hisses out.

 Hizuren pleasantly closes his eyes.   

☁☁

The roars of laughter lift the cooling night air, lanterns and fires are lit around the open dining hall as the fabrics bellow lightly in the evening winds. The moon is shining brightly, their tarps do not stretch across their crafted walls allowing for the full view of the night sky. It is refreshing on such an evening such as this, where there were no losses within their nomadic camp grounds, men and boys cheering gleefully off stolen goods and sake from the known trading roads. Waiting within the trees all day had been rewarding, and their recent chain of successes left for a celebration to be held. 

His almond-shaped eyes take in the rowdy sight: men in their clusters of small fires, free women screeching with laughter at the filthy jokes and sexual flirtations leaving his comrades' lips. Their looting has been successful within the last few weeks, a mischievous smile stretches across his charming face. His recent mercenary work had helped his growing followers eat and sleep well, but he was not foolish enough to think they would not begin to attract attention. Soon, if they did not relocate, ninja would be called upon to cut them down in size to once again control the roads. The nearby border villages that were still sworn to the Empire of Fire, as the displeased locals called it, would have to report them. 

What a pompous bunch.

This location has lasted for a very long time, Koduku mused as he lifted his aged gourd to his thirsting lips. The liquor was good, as it washed down his worries and warmed his blood. It loosened his muscles, allowing him to soak in the carefree atmosphere that ran through the open dining hall. The small lodging villages were happy with the protection they had been offering alongside the hefty hauls they had pulled. Koduku allowed a self-satisfied smirk to pull across his warming lips as he lazily eyed the women who had been trying to catch his attention. 

Almond shaped eyes framed by milky white skin looked at the frayed, dull battle yukata that would need more stitching soon. Furs from boar hides acted as an outer layer to his thin clothing, the weight from his worn, old gauntlets Koduku had looted off a corpse were beginning to look awkward on his growing limbs. The wind caressed his bronze hair, a frenzied spiky mess of uncontrollable locks that brushed along his backside reaching at his hips. Two thick braids framed his boyish face, uncut and unbroken from when they were oiled by his mentor and a bold testament to his strength. Koduku had yet to be defeated in battle and his hair was symbolic of those wins. 

Arching his back to stretch his clenched muscles, his twin hook swords rested comfortably on his strapped back, the worn handles fraying from the usage Koduku had put them through. It was his first victory, from when he was only 8 years old. His mentor has taught him the Ways of the Woods, how to fight and kill but better yet, survive. It was a hefty investment to pay, for those who worked outside the realm of shinobi never bothered to take apprentices. 

His fifteenth birthday had passed a few days ago and his close confidantes had gone on a hunt to celebrate his manhood as the visible softness of boyhood was melting away. His molten amethyst stare traced the leather bags of coin he had received for trading in a bounty, alongside the expensive rolls of silk, royal novelties and padded cushions that were organized around his feet. The pouches filled to the brim with money had been a handsome reward. The shiny coins were attached to thick string, bundled and placed within the leather paunches that were separated from his cut to his comrades. With his cut, he would be able to send home more money to his ailing mother in the capital. This time he would be able to afford a better doctor with his coins. 

The rustling of the wild bushes alerted him of his mentor's presence. 

“Wilding,” an old crone rasped wrapped in bear skin and a thick heavy hood emerged from the dark corners of the flickering fires. Koduku grunted at the nickname, annoyed that she treated him similar to the little boy she found out in the woods rather than the man he was now. 

“Elder.” Koduku promptly greeted, instantly knowing that he could no longer join in on the fun atmosphere his sworn brothers were doing. Michika had a way of ruining fun, but Koduku knew that her presence warranted his full attention.Her uneven footsteps were deathly quiet even with the additional dragging layers, a black train snaking behind her. Koduku was not foolish enough to think she was not armed, she was the one who taught him how to use the blade. She carried secrets and weapons alike. “What matter brings you here?” 

Bobbing her weary head upwards to look at him, deep pools of jaded plum took him in as the lines in her face got deeper from the last time he had seen her. “As your advisor, I heed you to listen to the whispers of the winds. They speak of something amiss, something has caused the ocean to grieve for their kin.” 

Koduku paused to take in what his mentor was speaking of, as he could not listen to the oceans or winds as closely as she. It was a gift that would die with her and her lineage. Pausing on the fun festivities, Koduku thought deeply on what could have been amiss, sparing an odd glance at his pouches of coin when his perspective clicked. 

The trading routes have been too easy to pillage for this amount of time. That in itself was unusual. Shinobi should have descended after the first few hits among the big trading routes and yet there was nothing but silence. Koduku knows from experience how fussy the upper echelons of merchants and nobles were when their useless treasures didn’t arrive on time. Narrowing his eyes with suspicion, “They should have already sent out shinobi.” 

The rumbling of laughter from his members was suddenly too loud within the quiet forest. Speaking of which, there were also not many other bandit clans they had run into- their competition had virtually disappeared. Ice crept up his spine. That was more unusual. 

“Yes.” A raspy voice snarled, “Violence lingers in the air young one. It is spreading.” 

Koduku snapped to attention, “What must I do?” He was not prideful enough to deny her wisdom, it’s how she survived in this world for decades. 

 “Listen to the storm inside you wilding,” His mentor hissed, yellowed teeth glowing in the warm light. Koduku held back a frustrated sigh as she decided to turn this into a teaching lesson. Muted purple eyes held him appraisingly, cocking her head as she watched him sink into concentrated thought. Koduku breathed in deeply, closing his eyes as he retreated into himself, where the storm within his blood laid. The hum of steady power crackled against his skin, electrifying the air surrounding him. It sharpened his senses, grounding him as the earth seemed to rush towards him to embrace his mysterious power. 

“Wield your chakra brat,” His mentor grumbled under her breath as the faint creaking of her old joints distracted him briefly, “Don’t listen to the earth, focus on the wind.” 

If Koduku could roll his eyes, he would have but that would only add more work. Instead, he slipped out an annoyed grunt at the cryptic and very unhelpful tip. Koduku couldn’t listen to the elements as closely as her, despite her insistence that he could learn, he was just being fuckin’ stubborn. Her words, not his. 

Koduku grit his teeth, wrangling the turbulent forces under his clumsy grasp for control.  

“Breathe.” She snappishly ordered, voice suddenly closer to where she once stood. Koduku forced himself to breathe the way she taught him, concentrating on focusing on the elusive grasp that playfully alluded to his wanting grasp. “Once you understand how the elements work, they will bend to you, wilding. Wind is quick, playful, devastating and cutting. Feel and understand, and the wind shall talk to you.” Softening her words for only his ears, Koduku allowed himself to relax a fraction. 

 Koduku could feel the energy surrounding the light breeze that summoned itself in front of him now that he had been searching for it, despite his eyes being closed, it didn’t take away from the new senses that awakened when he pushed himself this far. Stretching out his chakra to touch the thick presence of something other pushing up against him, Koduku notes how it curiously reciprocated his seriousness and playfully slipped away from his grasp.

Koduku could almost see the strings that wove the winds together, its presence felt thick like molasses, and he could understand how people could get stuck outside themselves. His mentor's presence gradually fell away alongside the muted chatter of his party, the storm within his blood intensified to a steady pitch prickling his eardrums. Gently stretching his chakra towards the strings surrounding him, calm and steady, Koduku reminds himself to breathe through his stomach. The source of all energy, his mentor once told him when he was a fawn in a world filled with predators. 

 Wind childishly indulged him, eager and curious to be within the grasp of a child it did not know. Koduku continued his cycles of breathing, filling up with the vast gravitas of otherness as he listened intently to what his mentor had warned him of. The wind carried the soft chatter of his men, the quiet breaths of his mentor, the laughter of women but Koduku sought out further than that. He carried himself along the stream, barely holding himself above as it bombarded him with meaningless whispers, the sounds of love and fighting, ebbing and webbing conversations that held no meaning to him until he heard it. 

Until a demonic shrill cry begging to be released shattered all of that; a wail screeched out against the world itself, a terrible declaration of rage so heinous that Koduku could have sworn that the world was dying alongside everything with it. It rattled his bones to the core and chilled his soul in an unpleasant way. The shrill tortured screams surrounding the bubbling animosity were almost drowned out, lost within the sea of malefic promises as it reverted harshly in his skull. Panting at the sheer volume, Koduku immediately broke off the connection as he almost shot out of his seat, his body shaking slightly from the otherworldly force that was imposing. Quicking turning towards his mentor who was only a few steps away from him, he saw the severity in her face. 

“What was that? ” Kodukus voice was barely strong enough to not tremble, but they both heard it. Her old hand steady as she placed it onto his tense shoulder. 

“You heard one of the nine mysteries of the world, and its name is the Kyuubi.” Her words gave him no comfort, it only inspired dread. Koduku paled. Gone were the light-hearted moments of his celebration as turbulent contemplation remained. He remembered the sheer amount of agonized screams besides the Kyuubi and thought once more of how there had almost been no one in the woods. 

The entire situation stunk of a cover-up, one that would be no good in meddling in. They would need to move immediately, away from the vicinity of whatever massacre had gone down in the northeast. Koduku may be a dishonored warrior, a thief by some measure, but he was not foolish enough to go against whatever forces had been involved with that. The squeals of women broke his train of thought, people were beginning to get more rowdy as the night continued.

Suddenly, his mentor placed a hand on his shoulder once more. Koduku flinched at the touch, still ruminating from what he had heard.

“Do not be afraid,” her voice waspish, yet there was a softness in her words reserved only for him, “for my teachings shall aid you and the chains that shield you are strong. Raise your head and be confident, do not bend or break unless the elements command it.” 

Gently placing withered scrolls into his trembling hands, Koduku witnessed the rare showing of a small smile painted on her normally sullen face. He froze to take in this rare moment. She was giving him a present. The light from the campfire hit her eyes, springing them to life as captivating purple jewels looked fondly at him as hints of aging red bled underneath the black hood covering her face from sight. 

“I shall cherish this.” Koduku vows, gripping onto the scrolls as the look of fondness quietly shifts into one of pleased calm. Her moods shifted like oceanic waters but Koduku had learned long ago that that was who she was and no one could ever change that. Just as he was the raging storms and cold lightning, iron-forged. 

“I know you will, wilding.” She whispered as she quietly retreated into the background to let him enjoy the rest of his party and to let the rest of his brotherhood know of where they would move towards next. Koduku had heard of the new village that had broken out, one where criminals and civilians alike were welcomed and shinobi did not care. Gathering his wits and courage, Koduku stands, immediately garnering the attention of the crowd that dines underneath the open skies. Molding chakra into his voice, he makes his announcement.  

“We go to the Free Lands,” his voice thundering out, “We head out to the Land of Grass.”