Chapter 21
WATASHI MASAMUNE
Watashi Masamune knew that he was at the end of his life. The year slipping past had taken a toll on him, and with each passing day, he could feel his end draw near. The old samurai had spent his whole life pursuing the way of the blade, dedicating all his prowess in the pursuit of the highest form of kenjutsu, and that pursuit had been fruitful. He was regarded as one of the best samurai in the whole continent, and though the age had taken much from him, with a blade in hand, there were few who could measure up to him.
The people who could pose a challenge to him and make his blood boil were too spread out and too important to come and face him. And he had resigned himself to a simple death, that was until the rumors told him of a rising young lord who wielded a blade.
Many a lord would often be fascinated by the blade and try and learn kenjutsu, their enthusiasm for the sword dying as quick a death as their fascination for the way of the blade was not a simple path. It required dedication, focus, patience, and, though distasteful, it was to admit, a certain semblance of talent. Talent that few possessed.
And so, few of the lords that ruled over them truly ever became masters, their skills merely perfunctory or barely passable at best, yet this lord was different. The young jito of Shinoi, Akihito Shirahoshi, heir to a relatively new noble house, the young lord was said to be blessed by the gods, told to have transformed his lands from a backtrodden farm to an economic hub within a decade.
Yet it was his skill with a blade that caught his ear. His own men spread all around the capital spoke of him in high regard. And from what he had seen, they had been right.
The young lord was truly gifted. He made up what he lacked in experience in the sheer amount of talent and chakra he boasted. He fought not just with his blade but with his mind as well, scheming and planning as all great fighters did.
It felt truly a shame that he would face him so early; had he waited for a few years, the young lord could have become an exceptional opponent, one who would have been able to even defeat him rather easily.
Yet it would all never come to be.
"It's over," he said as he straightened his sword and watched as the young lord saw his broken blade, a shame that his powerful technique damaged his own blade weakening it more and more as the battle progressed.
"No. It's not. Not yet," he announced rather defiantly, making him frown as he felt the young lord's chakra rustle as something red trickled down his hand.
Blood. He noticed as the blade gained a red hue as the young lord mouthed.
"My sword…." He uttered as Masamune's eyes widened at the scene infront of him.
"….drink my blood!" the young lord uttered as red blood dripped down his hand. The blade's broken edge gleamed an eerie red before it began to grow back, reform as it was just moments ago, the various scratches over it vanishing as the blade reformed itself in front of his eyes.
Until the young lord stood in front of him, his body gleaming with a red hue, much like his blade, the very air thick with his presence as their eyes met.
For some reason, Masamune smiled as he watched the young lord's lips thin, the fire in his chest blooming as excitement rose inside him.
"Interesting," he uttered as the two of them geared up for the second round.
This time, the young lord was first to react as he brought down his blade with a simple exhale, yet his senses perked up, and he sidestepped as the air beside him was cleaved and watched as the tree behind him was cut into two.
It seemed the young lord was finally letting it all out, yet he had little time to ponder over it as the Prince was on top of him the next moment, his blade slashing at his neck. He parried the strike, and then they danced, a deadly dance under the moonlight, the forest filled with the sound of metal clashing against metal as the two of them faced each other with all their might.
The battle went on and on until he saw the young Lord's eyes narrow as he tightened his grip on his blade and pounced on him, the sword in his hand gleaming with the characteristic green hue.
"Ninpo: World Clever!" he whispered, as he brought down his blade, and Masamune brought up his own blade to defend, yet as their blades met, the result was kind of a repeat of a previous event as the whole clearing was filled with the sound of a sword breaking.
CRINCH!
His blade shattered as the two blades met, and he now understood the young lord's intentions, as he felt his blade cut through his shoulder, cutting through his chest, as pain rippled through him.
"Thank you," he whispered.
BOOOOM!
The explosion shook the whole area, and as the dust cleared up, he could feel his body grow weaker by the second as blood spilled from his chest.
"Masamune-sama!" the soldiers gasped as they took out their blades and bared them at the young lord who stood opposite to him, huffing and breathing heavily, his whole body littered with cuts and scrapes, his once clean clothes now filled with dirt grime and blood.
He felt his mouth fill with a taste of iron and coughed up blood as he indicated for his men to step down.
"Enough! Step down," he ordered, and he saw the men bring down their blades as he turned to face the young lord.
"Stand proud, for you have bested Watashi Masamune, and for that, I dub thee…" he began as he raised his sword with the final vestiges of his strength.
"…Sōdokurībā! The Sword Cleaver!"
0000
LORD FUSHIO SUZUKI
The Fourth Prince of the realm sat in his solar, sipping his tea as his aide and friend Kansai questioned worriedly.
"Are you sure about this, Suzuki? Do you really wish to forego your claim on the seat of the daimyo?" he questioned, and he nodded.
"I am," he answered, refusing to elaborate any further.
Fushio Suzuki was born to the current daimyo of Fire Nation and Fumio Kurokabe, the daughter of the previous Water Daimyo. Their marriage was a political arrangement hashed out at the end of the Second Great War to mend ties between the two nations, yet such a thing was too much to ask.
There was too much bad blood between the two nations, and her mother had never truly tried to win the favor of the fire daimyo, who already had a woman he loved, and the dignity and pride of Fumio Kurokabe would not allow her to deal with the dirty politicking of the court.
With no one to care for her and no love from her marriage, when the news of the rebellion in the Land of Water reached the capital, her mother was devastated. Her own father was amongst the first casualties of the Civil War, a war that continues to this day.
Even now, the Land of Water remains filled with strife as nobles fight against nobles and ninjas fight against ninjas, causing only death and destruction.
"You may be sure of this, but going back to the Land of Water is a mistake; the whole place is filled with conflict, and your mother's whole family has been wiped out. You going there would be painting a huge target on your back," Kansai implored, but he shook his head, his mind made up already.
"Maybe, but it is something that must be done," he said, and Kansai shook his head.
"Why are we even entertaining going there? You could have ample land here in Land of Fire and rule peacefully. I could hash out an accord with the other claimants," he offered, and Kansai was wrong. There was no need to hash out any deal. Not with the one who would be the next daimyo.
While many believed that the Third Prince would take the throne, they were all wrong, very wrong. The true successor had been decided the moment the daimyo-sama had decided to marry of his daughter to him, and the rest didn't know it yet.
Akihito Shirahoshi would be the next daimyo of the land of fire; the young jito of Shinoi was a force to be reckoned with, a fact which he had come to learn rather early in his life when he had visited his lands on his invitation.
Even years ago, he had been caught by surprise by the astuteness of his mind and his visions and had known that he had come face to face with the kind of man who goes on to change the world.
"There is no need. I have made up my mind. Moreover, we aren't going to the land of Water for leisure," he answered again as Kansai frowned, and he saw his mind race until the old advisor's eyes widened.
"It cannot be…" he gasped as Suzuki simply sipped his tea.
"You canot mean to…."
"I do," he didn't let him finish as he cut in, making the old man's eyes widen.
"You wish to inherit your grandfather's position!" he confirmed, and he nodded.
"Indeed, I have the blood of the previous Water daimyo flowing through my veins and am the last of males of Kurokabe lineage, and I shall see my family restored to its previous status," he announced resolutely, as he declared openly the plot which he had been hatching for years.
"The daimyo-sama, your father…"
"Is dying?" he cut in once more as he put down the cup and stood up, slowly walking out into the garden as he continued.
"And that is the truth. He is dying, and even if he wasn't, I have already made up my mind, and even he wouldn't be able to stop me," he said. Not that he would care to, yet he didn't say that.
"My lord, they will not accept you. The Mizukage faces a rebellion from his forces, he won't declare for you," Kansai implored, for a daimyo basically drove his power from the Kage.
Yet the fourth Mizukage had become too unhinged in his actions, and when the daimyo had chastised him and had asked him to control himself, the man had suddenly died.
It was obvious enough who had been behind this, and hence, the nobles had cut off the funding and other support to Kirigakure, plunging the volatile village into a civil war.
"Who said anything about dealing with the Mizukage?" he questioned with a frown and saw Kansai's eyes widen as he realized his intentions.
"No…."
"I plan to make cause with the rebellion," he announced.
"That would be preposterous, my Prince. The nobles will not like that. They will not accept you, let alone support you and how will you even get in touch with the rebellion forces?" Kansai implored, and he smirked.
"The Nobles are inconsequential in all this. As for the rebellion forces, I already am in contact with them,"
0000
Rin Nohara, the student of the infamous Yellow Flash, teammate to Kakashi Hatake and the now-dead Obito lay in a cave atop an alter with a massive sealing array spread around her, her body immobile and restrained with various seals Kiri ANBU moved around her, moving in close a massive barrel.
The massive barrel's very presence was ominous, the chakra coming off of it ancient and ominous, making the brown-haired kunoichi shuffle nervously as she realized just what the Kirin nin were attempting.
A jinchuriki. They wished to turn her into a jinchuriki.
She tried to move. She tried to wriggle herself out of her binds, yet her efforts were futile, and when all hope had seemed lost, a massive explosion rocked the whole cave.
BOOOOM!
The whole cave was filled with a massive cloud of dust as Kiri ANBU perked up and became alert at the disturbance as the temperature of the cave rose in the blink of an eye, drenching the brown-haired kunoichi in sweat.
And then a sweet voice rang out through the cave.
"Let's turn up the temperature here a little!" as an orange-haired kunoichi, clad in a blue dress, with her bangs covering half her face, stepped out of the smoke, wiping away what seemed to be a small stream of molten lava from the side of her face.
Terumi Mei had arrived!
0000
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