Chapter 198: Arrival at the Kamizuru Clan Compound
As Malik strolled through the streets of Iwagakure, the attention from the villagers was palpable. Everywhere he went, people stopped to stare, whispering in awe as if they were seeing a mythical creature come to life. His reputation had certainly preceded him, and the villagers watched with a mix of curiosity, disbelief, and respect. Malik seemed at ease, smiling and occasionally waving to those who acknowledged him. He was used to being the center of attention, and his easy demeanor reflected that.
Behind him, Daichi "The Boulder" Yamamoto towered over the crowd. His sheer size and rugged appearance drew wary glances and uneasy looks. While some recognized him as Malik's loyal bodyguard, his imposing figure still intimidated many of the locals. Despite that, Daichi was clearly enjoying the attention, grinning at those who gave him curious looks and offering a thumbs-up to a few onlookers.
As they continued walking, Malik's path was suddenly obstructed by a lone figure. The man stood firmly in their way, his presence causing the crowd to part and retreat with fear and reverence. Both Malik and Daichi immediately noticed the shift in atmosphere. It was not just respect the villagers showed—it was wariness, as if they feared to even breathe in the man's direction.
Rōshi, the jinchūriki of the Four-Tails, Son Gokū, stepped forward. His red hair, pointed beard, and distinctive attire—reminiscent of his tailed beast—made him a striking figure. The headpiece that crowned his head and the armor adorning his body gave him a fierce and commanding aura. The air around him seemed to thrum with an underlying power, and Malik could sense the restrained hostility from the formidable shinobi.
"Malik," Rōshi called out, his voice as rough as gravel. "You and your friend have been summoned to the Kamizuru Clan compound."
The jinchūriki's tone carried a note of finality, leaving no room for argument. Daichi glanced at Malik, his brow furrowing slightly as he observed the surrounding villagers' reactions to Rōshi—most of whom kept their distance.
Malik gave Rōshi a nod. "Lead the way, then," he said calmly, his voice filled with confidence.
Rōshi turned sharply, motioning for them to follow. The villagers watched as the trio made their way through the streets, their whispers trailing behind them like a breeze. The path wound through Iwagakure, gradually transitioning from the bustling streets to a more secluded, natural area. The rocky terrain gave way to lush greenery, with tall trees and flowering meadows that swayed gently in the breeze. The atmosphere felt different here—calmer, more attuned to nature.
As they approached the Kamizuru Clan compound, the entrance came into view: a large wooden gate adorned with intricate carvings of bees and honeycombs. The clan's emblem stood boldly above the gate, a reminder of the Kamizuru's legacy and heritage. Rōshi stepped aside as they arrived, a silent acknowledgment of the clan's territory. At the gate, a woman awaited them.
She had a confident stance, her arms crossed as she observed the newcomers. Her high ponytail swayed slightly as she walked forward, her dark outfit with red accents giving her an air of authority. The tunic-like top, combined with her short skirt and knee-high boots, hinted at a mix of elegance and combat readiness.
"Thank you, Rōshi. You are dismissed," she said curtly, her voice calm but firm. Rōshi gave her a nod before turning and leaving the compound.
The woman turned her attention to Malik and Daichi. "I am Ayame of the Kamizuru Clan," she introduced herself. "I will be showing you around."
Malik inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Lead on, Lady Ayame. We are in your hands."
Ayame led them through the main gate, and Malik took in the surroundings with keen interest. The central courtyard was filled with an array of vibrant flowers and various plants that attracted bees, their gentle hum filling the air. The courtyard was also a training ground, evident by the traces of chakra techniques on the ground and the occasional sight of young clan members practicing with their bee techniques. Natural and man-made beehives dotted the compound, carefully maintained by the Kamizuru members.
Ayame guided them to the main hall, a large multi-story structure built from wood and stone. Its interior was decorated with tapestries depicting the clan's achievements and historic events, the artistry reflecting a deep connection to the Kamizuru's past. Nearby, several living quarters were designed to blend seamlessly into the landscape, their large windows open to let in the sunlight and cool air.
"The Kamizuru Clan compound is fortified with numerous defensive measures, including watchtowers and hidden traps," Ayame explained as they passed by the garden. "Our bees also serve as an extra line of defense. They are trained to detect intruders and respond accordingly."
Malik's eyes wandered to the various hives as Ayame spoke, and he noted the extensive knowledge of beekeeping that must have been passed down through generations. "The way your clan has integrated nature into every aspect of the compound is impressive," he commented.
Ayame nodded in acknowledgment. "It's a reflection of our history and our connection to the bees. They are not just a tool but a part of who we are." She then motioned to the library, a large building filled with scrolls and books detailing the clan's techniques, the art of bee-keeping, and herbal medicine. "This is one of our most valuable resources. We keep records here that date back to our clan's founding."
As they walked through the compound, Malik felt the weight of history in the air—the Kamizuru Clan's struggles, triumphs, and resilience seemed to resonate in the very earth they walked on. This was more than just a home for the clan; it was a living testament to their legacy and spirit.
They arrived at the garden, where a variety of medicinal herbs and rare plants grew in carefully tended patches. The scents of different herbs filled the air, providing a sense of tranquility. Malik paused, taking a deep breath, and let the peace of the place wash over him.
Ayame stopped and turned to face him. "You are our guest here, Malik, but remember that the Kamizuru Clan is proud and has much at stake. I hope that you will keep that in mind as you continue to work with us."
Malik met her gaze, his expression serious. "I understand, Lady Ayame. I am here to help in any way I can. I will treat your clan's traditions and legacy with the respect they deserve."
Ayame gave a slight nod, satisfied with his answer. "Come, there are still more places to see."
As they continued the tour, Malik couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something significant. He had come to Iwagakure with the intention of forming alliances and building bridges, and the Kamizuru Clan compound, with its blend of nature, history, and resilience, was a powerful symbol of what he hoped to achieve here.
After concluding the tour of the Kamizuru Clan Compound, Ayame led Malik and Daichi back to the library. The building loomed over them with its high ceilings and walls lined with shelves, filled with scrolls and books that carried the weight of the clan's history. The faint scent of old parchment hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the wooden structure. Malik could sense the quiet sadness that seemed to pervade the place—a reflection of the struggle that hung over the clan.
"Is this library filled with the history and techniques of the Kamizuru Clan?" Malik asked as he ran his fingers over the spines of a few scrolls, his tone gentle yet curious.
Ayame sighed softly, her gaze trailing over the rows of shelves. "Yes," she replied. "But many of our techniques were lost during the wars, along with the members who knew them. This place may seem impressive on the surface, but in truth, it's like a copper ball painted gold. The shine hides the reality underneath—our clan is a shadow of what it once was. The halls are mostly empty, and there are fewer of us than there should be."
Malik's expression softened. He looked at Ayame with a knowing glint in his eyes. "I'm aware of your clan's hardships," he said. "The attempted invasion of Konoha by Iwagakure, when the Kamizuru Clan faced the Aburame Clan and suffered a devastating defeat, is well known. The loss damaged the clan's reputation and led to many members leaving Iwa out of shame. Your numbers dwindled, and the respect you once commanded began to fade."
Ayame's face tightened, a flicker of anger crossing her features. "You come here, into our home, and throw our history back in our faces?" she snapped. "That isn't very smart, especially when you know the weight of what you speak."
Malik raised a hand in a calming gesture. "I apologize, Ayame," he said sincerely. "That wasn't my intention. I only wanted to acknowledge the struggle your clan has endured, and to let you know that I'm not blind to it. I promise you, I have a plan to help restore your honor."
Ayame took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she studied Malik's expression. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her pause. "We're desperate," she admitted quietly. "Desperate to bring back the honor that was taken from us. If you say you can help, then you'll find we don't have the luxury of turning away offers."
She took a step back and nodded toward the doors leading out of the library. "You have permission to explore the compound on your own. Just… stay in the areas I showed you, for your own sake."
As Ayame walked away, Malik found himself standing in the heart of the compound, surrounded by the echoes of a once-great clan's past. He turned to Daichi, who had been silent during the exchange, and motioned for him to follow. Together, they made their way out into the compound grounds.
Malik wandered through the compound, his steps quiet on the stone pathways. He noticed the absence of Suzumebachi, her brothers, Kurotsuchi, and Ōnoki. The clan's core members were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the few faces he encountered were either very young or very old. A sense of emptiness lingered over the grounds, as though time had stilled here, leaving only a fraction of the life that once thrived.
As Malik approached the training grounds, he spotted four children practicing under the watchful eyes of two elderly Kamizuru members. The children were young—no older than eight or nine—and they struggled to command their bees with precision. Their small hands moved through the air in the practiced motions of basic techniques, but the bees buzzed around them erratically, with only partial obedience.
The two elderly instructors, their hair silver and their faces marked by the lines of age, offered guidance with gentle patience. Though they were frail in body, their voices carried a firmness that spoke of years of experience. Malik watched for a moment, taking in the scene. It was a poignant image—a clan clinging to its traditions, passing down what knowledge it could to the next generation, even in the face of adversity.
Daichi stepped closer, his massive frame casting a shadow over the training area. "So, Boss," he rumbled in his deep voice, "what do you make of them?"
Malik turned his gaze to his loyal bodyguard, considering the question. "The Kamizuru Clan is like a hive that's lost its queen," he said thoughtfully. "They're trying to rebuild, but there aren't enough workers left to sustain them. The children are eager to learn, and the elders still have their wisdom, but… they need something more. They need hope."
Daichi nodded slowly, his brow furrowed. "They've got spirit, though," he observed. "You can see it in those kids—they're trying their best, even if they're struggling."
"Spirit alone isn't enough," Malik replied, his voice firm but not unkind. "They need guidance, resources, and a reason to believe that the Kamizuru Clan can rise again. That's where we come in."
Daichi crossed his arms, his gaze drifting back to the children. "You think you can really help them?"
Malik gave him a confident smile. "I don't just think I can," he said. "I know I can. But it's going to take more than words. We need to prove it to them—to give them something real that they can hold onto."
Malik's eyes moved back to the library, its ancient walls holding the remnants of the clan's lost techniques. An idea began to form in his mind—a way to help the Kamizuru reclaim not just their honor, but their legacy. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, the most worthwhile endeavors never were.
Turning to Daichi, Malik's voice took on a tone of determination. "Let's get started," he said. "We have work to do."