The Rotten Wings of a Scarlet Crane (Naruto/Elden Ring)

khaleb said:

Good chapter I look forward to the next one 2 years from now.

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Reading the report from Shikoso, the Shinobi Council's chief strategist, Naganori Asano was beginning to believe that he had perhaps miscalculated.

When he had sent his old pet samurai off to die he had not expected his daughter to have been this strong. Strong enough to be at least somewhat of a factor on the field from what Mushashi's report had stated certainly, but strong enough to impress Musashi was a world of difference to 'nearly single handedly fought off both a Jinchuriki and an army of Shinobi'.

Small mercies at least that the girl seemed loyal enough to not simply turn that strength on Kusagakure at the moment.

Leaning back in his chair the young daimyo simply sat silently and thought of how to use this new piece on his board. Kusagakure had never had a warrior of her apparent caliber before, the closest was Oniwa, his "Minister of Justice.'' He chuckles slightly at the thought of the completely honorary title he had given the man. When the shinobi of the village had made the decision to name him Onikage, Naganori had briefly feared that the Ninja of Grass had finally had enough of civilian government and decided to finally start a coup for his power.

Though it had not ended up being the case, the title of Onikage itself being closer to a name on a bounty than the leaders in all but name of the greater villages. Naganori had still felt it prudent to grant the man a title from the civilian government to assuage his own fears if nothing else.

Like a bolt of lightning a thought occurs to the Daimyo, perhaps this was more of an opportunity for the country than in just the obvious militaristic ways. Maybe it was time for Kusagakure to have a legendary warrior of their own.

His mind made up, Naganori sent a summons off to the Leaf and Sand diplomats that resided within the hidden village, his first step would be to spread the news to his erstwhile allies, only then could he begin attempting to take advantage of this possible windfall.

---

Oniwa awakens to the reality of his defeat.

He had trained for this moment, he had bled for this moment, and he had lived for the moment of his second fight with a Jinchuriki.

Where last time he had barely managed to snatch a stalemate out of the jaws of defeat, this time he had resoundly lost. He had given it his all, he had used every jutsu and technique that he had learned in the years since his fight with the two tailed beast, and still he had lost.

Now laying awake in a cot in an empty medical tent after the fact with severe injuries, he is certain that not only has he lost but so too has his forces.

Because without The Onikage fighting with them how could they ever hope to hold off a Jinkurichi. Perhaps in his younger days his ever loyal sensei could have held off the beast long enough to allow their beleaguered army to retreat back to the fortress at the cost of his life, but those days were long gone and his sensei's strength had long been sapped by the evils of time.

Honor would demand he renounce the title of Onikage, it had only been granted to him for his supposed strength, his ability to hopefully even the playing field just slightly towards the side of Kusagakure. Yet the reality was that the Onikage could not even fight just one of the enemy's many trump cards, so why then should he attempt to hold his head so high when even his nation's greatest warrior was not enough?

"I see you're finally awake, old friend." Despite his worries, relief still floods through him as the familiar voice of his sensei rings out through the room.

"Sensei, I'm glad to see you're still alive, I had feared the worst after my defeat."

"Bah, I didn't even get to fight seriously, I've not gotten quite that old yet Oniwa." He can not help but smile at his teacher's old antics despite the dreary topic at hand.

The smile doesn't last long, he has to get to work after all, "Isshin-sensei, tell me honestly… how many did we lose?"

After a short pause his teacher sighed and sat next to his cot, "More than hoped, but less than feared."

At first he had barely been listening to the statement, expecting the worst as he was, but by the end he had nearly sat up fully before being roughly pushed back down into his bed by the older man.

"But… what happened to the Jinchuriki, how did we escape?" His teacher looks at him for a moment with a raised eyebrow before a look of comprehension comes upon his grizzled old face.

Sensei chuckles for a moment before standing up with a stretch, he can hear bones popping as he moves, "I'll be right back Oniwa, I believe I understand where your confusion lies, and I feel it best to show you the answer to that question."
It only takes a moment for the old man to return and trailing behind him was someone he was sure would have died in the fight.

"It is good to see you awake, Commander." Behind his teacher was the perpetually sad yet calm form of Mizutori Ishida, the blind and crippled charity case the Daimyo had foisted onto him.

"It… is good to be awake, girl." He will admit to sounding more confused than he had intended, he just couldn't quite grasp what his sensei was trying to say by bringing her in.

Certainly, she had gotten a ridiculously glowing recommendation from Musashi, but even his incredibly glowing review did not give the impression that she could have turned the tide of such a battle single handedly..

"You ask how we 'escaped' the Jinchuriki, Onikage we did not 'escape' him because we did not need to," His eyes widen in dawning comprehension as his old teacher lays his hands on the girls shoulder with a broad teeth filled smile, "Mizutori Ishida achieved what she said she would before the battle had even began and 'knew victory'."

---

I now know victory, the taste is bitter and ashen, I had let the rot take control in a way that even her memories could not explain fully. It was a small mercy that the remaining ninja didn't question my authority when I told them to burn the bodies of the slain enemies.

Things change rapidly after my victory, the first and most immediate change is that the garrison of the Kyoshin fortress treats me vastly differently than they had before. Where before it was a barely tolerated distance, with nobody ever even calling me by my actual name, sans the Konoha medic-nin, I was instead known as simply the merc, cripple, or ronin. I am now known nearly exclusively as, "My apologies Ishida-san, I didn't see you there."

Ishida-san, one particularly excitable genin had even called me Ishida-sama. The familiar brand of awe and reverence instills mixed feelings in me.

At least I'm not being worshiped yet.

I give the chunin that ran into me a shallow bow and continue on my way to the mess hall. Along the way I am accosted by yet more people feeling the need to say hello or wave my way.

Stepping through the doorway leading into the mess hall I immediately noticed the sheer amount of people with bandaged wounds from the battle. Sitting at the table I usually call my own is the Konoha medics looking more tired than usual, though they were not combatants their work was just as tiring, if not quite as dangerous. My usually exuberant friend was only able to give me a quiet wave and hello before going back to slowly eating her food.

I nod to her before moving to get a plate of my own rice, fish, and dried fruits again. Despite getting tiring, the food in this world is still somewhat nicer than the endless bread and dried meat I had eaten during the shattering.

"I still can't believe that I didn't get the chance to see you fight Mizutori," Watage says once I sit down.

I give her a small smile, "I'm sure that you'll get the chance sooner or later, we still have a whole war to go after all."

It was nice to talk to her again, the time we had to simply converse in peace had grown shorter since the battle, Kusagakure had lost many shinobi in the Iwa's push south and the med-nin were in increasingly short supply.
She sighs at me for a moment before I'm given a sense of deja vu as she reacts to somebody standing behind me.

"Mizutori-san, the Onikage would like to see you again." I take a small bite of rice and sigh before nodding and turning around to follow the old shinobi again. I had learned his name was Isshin after he had all but dragged me into the medical tent Oniwa had been resting in.

It had been a week since then, and I doubt Iwagakure would have had time to recuperate and form another army in such a short amount of time, so I doubt this visit was to be the same as last time. The keep of the old fortress was just as frantic as it was before, though there were less people inside, we hadn't gotten reinforcements from the village yet. Coming upon the overly large door of the Onikage's office I feel Isshin's hand rest on my shoulder.

"I'll be waiting outside. I must get ready, remember not to go easy on me just because I'm old, girl." Without further word he turns around and marches back the way we came. Slightly confused but seeing only one way forward I knock on the door to the commander's office.

"Come in, Ishida." Says the gruff voice of Oniwa through the door.

As I walk inside I notice that he is still covered in bandages from his fight with the beast, "Sit girl, we have much to discuss."

I pull out a chair from his desk and as I sit down he continues, "First off, I must apologize to you, I have not been taking you as seriously as I should have been." He takes a breath at the slightly confused face I make.

"I had thought you a simple case of nepotism by the Daimyo, it is only clear to me now that I should not have dismissed the word of Musashi so easily."

"So in that vein, to make it up to you and to myself, I have a proposal to make for you."

I nod for him to continue after letting him get to this point. I wasn't about to interrupt an apology for an offense I hadn't even known had been given.

"When I was younger I once fought off a monster like you have, one weaker yes but a monster all the same." He closed his eyes as he spoke, looking off into the distant past.

"When I came back to the village I was met by an old shinobi named Isshin Ashina, he had once been considered the strongest in the village, old enough to remember the days of the warring clans; he was a relic even during the last war."

He opens his eyes and looks into the area where your eyes would be if you had them, "He taught me how to grow past where my limits had once lied, naming me as the first Demon Shadow of Kusagakure."

"I want you to become my pupil, and if you wish it, the heir to the title of Onikage should I die in battle."

He holds up his arm, still covered in a cast as it was,"But I am not healed enough to start at this time, so for now we need to show the men what your new title is to be, if you accept that is."

"How will we do that?" I did not pretend as if I was going to refuse the offer.

The Onikage smiles a teeth filled grin, "Seeing as I am the first official Onikage, we have the privilege to set a precedent for the passing of the torch you see, and I thought it best to kick it off like us monsters should."

A fight, of course.

"You are to challenge my old teacher to a duel, not to the death of course," he quickly amended at the sight of my raised eyebrow.

"I will make the announcement the moment we finish this meeting, if you win the men will accept it easily enough that you are to be my student going forward, if you lose it will be harder but still not impossible."

I hum in response, collecting my thoughts for a moment. Perhaps some would call me too forgiving for accepting his offer as just recompense, but I had learned long ago that if I were to hold everyone accountable for their first impressions of me I would be forced to hold a grudge against the whole world. It is also true that the offer of shinobi secrets is slightly tantalizing, while the techniques they used were outside of my usual skills I could easily find a use for them. It would be hard of course, missing an arm as I was, but perhaps I can find a prosthetic at some point in the future.

Really the biggest thing to possibly hold me back was that as far as pure skill was concerned, I was already stronger than Oniwa, not that such a thing was ever in any doubt.

"I accept your apology and your offer, Onika-" I stop and smile, "Oniwa-sensei."

While he laughs his larger than life laugh that seems to shake the very air, privately I muse that I should endeavor not to tell him the biggest reason I had chosen to accept his offer, lest it crush his spirit.

I missed introducing myself with a title, petty as it was Mizutori Ishida by itself just didn't compare to 'The Blade of Miquella'.

"Well then, we have an announcement to make." He stands to his full height, his expression is lacking any of the lingering pain and exhaustion that it had previously held.

"Meet me on the roof, it is there that we will begin the show." As soon as he finishes his explanation he disappears in the usual flickering teleport that ninja tended to do. Hopefully, as an apprentice to one I'd be able to learn how to do that myself soon.

To his credit it only took him about ten seconds to realize his mistake and sheepishly come back for me.

---

Han stared into the distance of one of Iwa's many valleys, he wished Roshi was here.

The older man was a mentor and friend all in one and it would help to have someone to talk to, even if the stubborn bastard couldn't help in any substantial way.

He still heard her laughter, the demented and deranged cackling of the demon girl he had faced still rang in his ear. He had been confident at first, afterall what did he have to fear from a blind swordswomen.

He should have paid more heed to the bodies of his comrades before rushing to the survivors' aid.

It was only when even the stubborn and stoic energy of the five tails within him started to waiver near the end that Han began to believe he might have been in over his head.

Reactions in Iwa of the shattered army's return had been decidedly mixed, this was intended to have been the blow to knock Grass out of the war. Intel had assured everyone that the southern front was easily the weakest with only Kusa's fake Kage being around to protect it, and that man had only barely managed to achieve a draw against Roshi in a skirmish during the interwar period.

It wasn't a total loss in the end, they knew now that Kusagakure actually had a fighter worth talking about for one, and despite the humiliating end he had still beaten the "Onikage" and badly battered the southern defenses of the land of mushrooms.

It had only cost Iwa many able bodied and experienced shinobi and his arm. He was beginning to believe the pain radiating from his arm would never cease, thankfully in the days since his return his pain had slowly eased though even the famed healing of a Jinchuriki wasn't enough to heal fully from whatever it was that woman had done.

Onoki hadn't even been particularly angry at his failure, merely disappointed, perhaps that was what hurt the most.

The weight of the now updated bingo book in the pocket of his gi felt like it was burning a hole in his chest.

Reaching into his pocket with his remaining hand he pulled out and opened the book to the now familiar page.


His hand shook from the tight grip he held on the book, his eyes refused to leave the harsh lettering from the page. The sound of a deranged woman's laughter haunted his ears, and the fleeting memory of butterflies on a sword haunted his eyes.

No.

He refused to be cowed like this, throwing the book into the valley in front of him Han stood up from his previously sitting position.

As the sun began to set over Iwagakure Han made a vow to the world, he would come back stronger than before, he refused to let the loss of his arm haunt his days.

Even if it cost him the other arm or both of his legs he would keep getting up, he would keep charging forward, towards that woman.

He promised this to all those he swore to protect when he had first put on his headband, he would be the one to take down The Scarlet Crane. Deep within himself he felt as the five tails within him seemed to think for a moment before with a quiet huff the beast said a single word to him. One that he had never expected from the beast that had tormented his early years, before he had come to terms with his lot in life.

In truth he did not even know the beast could talk while he was in the waking world, and yet still it spoke to him.

"Kokuo"

Somehow he knew what the word meant, somehow despite not ever once speaking to or hearing the beast before, he knew.

It was a name, so in response Han did the one thing he could think to do.

"Han"

I decided remove the "Flee on Sight part of the bingo book entry from last chapter, I felt like some very reasonable points were brought up that I hadn't though up before, also this chapter more than doubled from when I had said it was done a couple days ago, but all the same here it is.

---

The announcement of the duel had gone well enough. Admittedly there weren't that many here that hadn't seen me during the battle. So when the Onikage announced that I would be dueling his old teacher Isshin Ashina for the privilege of becoming the heir to his title, it was more or less accepted without complaint.

From what I could gather Isshin himself was something of an important figure for the older ninja around, having been fundamental to the survival of the village during its earliest years. These days he mostly stayed out of the frontline combat and acted as advisor to Oniwa, that people didn't even try to challenge that decision spoke volumes about the respect he had earned over his long life.

The Fort had something of a spot set out for occasions like this, or rather for spars that were expecting an audience. The spot itself is nothing more than a small clearing in the surrounding mushroom forest with a few benches and seats set out for an audience. From the amount of people I see standing instead of sitting around the small circle of grass, I get the impression that our fight is drawing in more spectators than the space was designed for.

I can see Watage and most of the other Konoha medics that aren't too busy in the crowd, she looks excited and worried all at the same time to see me fight for once. Included in the stands is a bandaged and wounded Oniwa sitting on a particularly large chair, looking every bit the conquering warlord presiding over a gladiatorial arena.

Across from me stands my opponent, Isshin himself stands across from me with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. He is wearing a yellowed grass cloak and loose fitting black pants that are common in most shinobi outfits, I have seen this outfit before though it always strikes me as subdued for such an important figure in this country's history. Most notably however he has a sword sheathed at his side now. It looks like most other katanas I have seen, while sheathed at least.

"Before we begin I shall say the same thing to you that I once said to The Onikage who now leads this force when I first granted him the title." When he speaks the excited chattering of the crowd halts all at once, they hang onto his every word now.

It strikes me that Oniwa is so different from his teacher in the way they gain the attention of the masses, Oniwa roars and Isshin merely growls.

"Though you are strong beyond all doubt, this sword of mine is only permitted to taste steel against the strongest in this land." There is a small pause as the old wiry and withered old man runs his wrinkled hands over the hilt of his sword, as he looks from his sword to me I once again get that same impression of a predator stalking its prey that I had gotten when I first met this man.

"If you claim to be as strong as a demon, then force me to draw this sword for it is only worthy of such strength." He lets go of the sword and breathes in a deep breath. "Only then will we see if you can force this old man to pass the torch on to you."

There is a deep silence that follows as I wait for him to continue, seeing as he doesn't I unsheathe my sword and ready it to my side before speaking the one sentence I shall before we begin.

"I am Mizutori Ishida and I shall not learn of the taste of defeat here, this I promise."

The crowd is silent still as we stand a few feet apart, before in an instant without any real sign that we have begun I rush towards the old man.

I make the first move with a simple swipe of my blade. He seems to flow past it like wind as the crowd reawakens and begins cheering for whoever their chosen champion is. When I make another attack, this time from the top, he again simply moves out of the way.

The battle continues this way for sometime, me attempting to strike out at him and the old man somehow maddeningly avoiding the blade by inches.

When I hear the whistling of a kunai come from behind I remember that I am indeed fighting a ninja. Blocking the knife was easy enough, though now I was surrounded by the man and his clone. Remembering my fight with Musashi, I rush towards the clone to take it out before he can take advantage of his sudden numbers advantage.

I do not realize that something is wrong until I swing my sword to take off the clone's head and do not hear the footsteps of the old man following me.

When my blade reaches the neck of the clone I feel the skin give way in the same way that Musashi's clone had, only instead of smoke I hear a high pitched squeal as the wrinkled skin of the clone suddenly turns an electric blue. My blade cuts through the clone and in the process I electrocute myself. As my muscles contract against my will I hear the old man behind me begin to finally move into action.

I am only barely able to bring my sword up to block a kick that lands against the metal of my blade with a resounding clang. Flipping off my blade the man throws three more knives in my direction, thankfully I am able to dodge them or deflect them all.

Readying my blade for a thrust I push off towards Isshin past the scattered landing spots of his disregard kunai. I feel my momentum crash to a sudden halt as I am suddenly caught up in wire, following the wire I realize that his knives had not been rendered entirely harmless afterall.

As Isshin moves to throw another blow my way, I almost activate my rot on instinct to remove the wire.

I refuse to let myself rely upon the accursed disease in this fight however, I want this one to be mine alone.
In order to avoid his kick I launch myself backwards with my feet, in the process ripping the knives from the spots they had landed on.

Spinning on one foot I use the wire as a weapon against its former master, the knives still attached to the wire spin out towards the man as he is forced to defend against his once weapons. Once I have been sufficiently freed from the impromptu net I rush once more towards the man who had in the meantime summoned another clone.

I find myself taking on two opponents at once, I am at a disadvantage here I realize. Though I am easily faster and stronger than my older opponent, he is too skilled to be easily hit without me also getting hit by his clone.

A clone that I do not have an easy answer for without the rot I realize.

I just barely duck under a fist coming my way from behind as another clone enters the fight. Looking towards the old man I see him breathing much harder than before, these clones were not cheap in cost it would seem.

If before I had been on the offensive I was now solidly on the defense, a three on one fight where I couldn't even out the numbers without also hurting myself was a challenge I will admit.

My lacking repertoire of moves is showing here, I really need to find a way to create clones of my own at some point.

Dancing past both clones I find myself in front of Isshin himself, he is slowing.

Raising my sword above my head I move to strike at him, he won't be able to avoid this one. Not with him so fatigued and the clones so far behind me.

My sword does not come down from above my head, glancing up I find it wrapped up in wire once more. It takes me a shameful amount of time to realize how I had gotten tied up once more, the clones had let me past them it seems.
Isshin readies two knives but instead of throwing them towards me as I had expected he instead throws them towards his clones.

If they pop this fight is over, the wire was metal and my sword is particularly chakra conductive.

Time seems to slow to a crawl as I think of my options.

The man clearly doesn't want to win this fight or else he would have simply dismissed the clones without the theatrics.

So his goal was to either make me drop my sword, or make me use the rot to free my blade.

It makes sense, I suppose, either I show more of my strength to the crowd and shore up support for my bid to the title, or I simply don't react in time, proving my inadequacy for the honor anyway.

Most swordsmen are worthless without their blade.

I am not most swordsmen.

As I let go of the sword, time resumes as I unleash a flurry of kicks and blows towards the old man. Behind me I hear the sound of thousand birds tweeting as the clones pop, I pay it no mind fully absorbed into the trading of blows with the man in front of me. He is better at this than I am, but I am faster and stronger with my body still young and youthful.

If I had my other arm I would have a better chance, but as it is I am weak on one side and am forced to accept a multitude of blows that I have few answers for.

On the bright side with me so close he is unable to summon his clones, though based on his flickering aura I do not think he has it in him to summon more even if he had the chance. I am just barely able to push past his most recent block and grab ahold of his face, I feel his eyes widen underneath my grip as I throw him into the air with all of my one handed might.

I drop low and raise my leg to kick his falling body, normally I would use my sword to take advantage of this position but a leg would do fine as well.

Perhaps I should name this move to, a thought for another time.

I feel and hear a resounding crack ring through the arena when my blow connects.

Pushing him off me with another swift kick he tumbles for a second before slowly righting himself, he is coughing harshly.

I walk slowly towards where my sword had landed from its entangling experience.

"To think I would be pushed so far by a crippled child with only a sword and no jutsu."

There is a harsh chuckle that echoes through the now once again silent clearing like the distant thunder of a dragon flapping its wings.

"It is a tragedy you were not born fifty years earlier girl, together and in my prime we could have had the world in the palm of our hands."

A shrill scream of a ghost that once haunted the chaotic time of the warring clans is drawn from the sheath of his sword, the real fight is about to begin.

"I'm not done yet, Ishida!" He yells with the volume and vigor of a man who is not in his eighties as he begins his first real assault.

As we clash our blades against each other once more, I take the time to study his katana.

It is dark and has an intricate pattern etched into its blade. He deflects a swing and brings his sword down to split me in two, I am not in the path by the time he brings it down. I notice a faint haze rising from its surface as if a great inferno was trapped within a few millimeters of steel. I dash to the side and bring my sword forward to bisect him while he is out of position, it accomplishes nothing when he dodges backwards with my momentum.

It takes all of my willpower to not let the rot take over once more and simply slice his sword in half. He sheaths his sword and draws it out quicker than my sight can track, I am forced to accept a few shallow cuts landing upon my frame that I am not able to fully block.

As we end up in a blade lock inches from each other's faces, I see a teeth filled smile upon his visage, I am surely sporting the same.
We push off each other once more as he shouts at me about his blood boiling, I don't listen to his words any longer.

This is not the same brutal slugging fest that I had with the Jinchuriki Han when I let the rot begin to bloom on the battlefield. This was a graceful and frenetic duel between two swordsmen who have mastered their craft, both of us are covered with slight cuts scattered on our bodies as that is the most either of us are able to bring down upon our opponent.

I am forced to jump over a wave of fire that is launched from his sword, I land behind him and am only able to land another glancing blow before he spins with another burst of flame fanning out towards me.

The page turns on another phase of our duel as I am no longer able to stand against him toe to toe without being burned in the process.

So I am instead forced to make hit and run strikes against him as he struggles to hit me with his flaming blade. I feel a pang of sadness that I can only face this man in his current diminished state, if only I had been born fifty years ago indeed. He is slowing even more now and I have not yet even been forced to bring out the rot.

This fight is finished.

He makes one final attempt to skewer me with his blade, I raise my leg and step on his sword ignoring the scorching heat rising from below me I rest the edge of my golden sword against his neck.

All at once the flame vanishes and he drops his sword.

"I yield, Mizutori Ishida."

The crowd erupts.

Distantly I hear Oniwa laughing loudly and shouting his congratulations, as if it was ever in any doubt.

I am tackled in a hug by a familiar medic, as she jumps with her arms around me shouting her praises.

I marinate in the glow of my victory as I begin to ponder the next step towards my true goal.

The Daimyo will never know what hit him by the time I am ready, I could not protect my father but I will avenge him.

Hearing the praises and feeling the pats on the back from the grass ninja surrounding me, and seeing the tired but smiling frame of my elderly opponent now resting next to the boisterous Oniwa. I can't find it in myself to blame the country's people for its leaders' failings.

----------


The next month passes in a blur of training, learning, and fighting. Iwa has not stopped its probing of the southern border, though they have not yet attempted a push like the first one and instead have focused on the northern front where the bulk of both forces continue to fight.

"Do you want my persimmon, Mizutori?" asks the familiar form of Watage sitting across from me.

"No thank you, I've already had my fill." I respond in my usual monotone style, I wince slightly as she starts to pout.

"You need to eat more, a growing body needs all the nutrients it can take, you know."

I stare at her oddly for a moment before calmly waving a hand towards my ever growing frame.

She has the decency to look embarrassed at least, unlike most everyone else at Kyoshin Fortress other than Isshin-Sensei and Oniwa she actually knows my age. Perks of having access to my medical records I suppose.

"Just because you are as tall as most men I've seen in my life doesn't mean you shouldn't eat more, you're nine for crying out loud!"

I don't know if I will ever feel comfortable talking about this subject, I know I'm young and I know I don't look as young as I should.

I just wish sometimes I could simply pretend to be a normal eight year old, instead of a freakishly tall giant who remembers the life of a conquering demigod.

Sometimes it feels like the first seven years of my life weren't even real. How could I have once been a placid and peaceful daughter of a rice farmer a mere few months prior?

As we get back to eating quietly I find the atmosphere around the table has grown more somber.

I look up as I hear Watage sigh before dropping her chopsticks onto her tray.

"I wish we could keep doing this forever." she says as she looks down over the remains of her food, her blue hair usually held in a ponytail but down for today covers her eyes.

She waits a moment for me to comment, I refrain from doing so.

"You probably don't care since you are off doing more important things than hanging out in front of a medical tent nowadays," she breathes in and looks up at me, "but my times up here, I've been recalled back to the village."

Ah, so that's what this is.

I look around the room as she continues, I don't know why I find this kind of thing so difficult.

"...and I just wanted to say, well uh," she hesitates for a moment long enough that I want to jump over the table and force the words out of her, "Thanks I guess, you made my time here away from home more bearable."

She cringes immediately after saying it and moves to rescind her words.

"Aaahh, don't listen to me it was probably nothing for you, I mean you're pretty cool after all, for a kid at least, so you're probably more used to having friends than I a-"

I decided that I actually did want to jump over the table, though it was to hug my friend rather than to interrogate her.
There is a moment of silence as she realizes that I'm actually hugging her before she carefully wraps her arms around my shoulders.

"Thank you, Watage."

The words come out much quieter than I had originally intended them to be.

The girl turns beat red before a shrill keening sound begins to erupt from her throat.

"You're supposed to be the cool one Mizu-chan, stop being the cute one."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, that just makes it worse!"


Watage's departure was a sad affair, though we both promised to see each other again, the sword that is the war hanging over our heads puts something of a damper on the words.

"Fuhaiton: Kage Bunshin No Jutsu."
Unlike Isshin-sensei's own lightning clones, my rot clones do not look like me.

Well they do, vaguely, but they only consist of my silhouette formed from a mass of the damned rot butterflies I've been seeing more and more of ever since I began to really train with Oniwa and Isshin. I should probably be more worried about that than I am, but from what I could find from a few tests with wild animals the butterflies were oddly not spreading the rot. So I'm adopting a 'cover my eyes and pretend I can't see them' method of handling it for the moment.

It was really obnoxious to actually do ninjutsu with only one hand I was learning. Everyday I wish I had her prosthetic more and more.

According to Oniwa I was essentially forced to run before I could walk doing all this one handed.

I'm trying my best not to think about how I'm going to do any of these techniques while holding my sword.

"I think that's as good as it's going to get." Off to my side lounging against a stump sit's Isshin-sensei with a bottle of sake.

Across me stands my clone waiting for orders, it knows I don't need it right now.
I wave my hand and the butterflies scatter, how a mass of butterflies can manage to look sad at being dismissed I'll never know.

"You know I've been thinking, girl." he says as I walk to stand next to him, I briefly wonder where Oniwa is today before dismissing it as unimportant for the moment.

"About?" I ask quietly.

"The problem you mentioned, the thing about the bodies and your kekkei genkai." He groans as he sits up, he's been slower ever since our fight.

I've mentioned to my two mentors that I am in need of a way to deal with the bodies I leave behind lest I spread the rot unwillingly.

They tried to teach me a fire release ninjutsu for the purpose, but I had learned early on in the attempt that me and fire do not mix well.

"Have you thought of something then?" I reach for my canteen of water I have sitting next to his resting spot.

"Those butterflies, they act as a representation of your chakra usually, yes?"

I nod as I take a drink, it was mostly correct as far as I could tell, they only really appear when I utilize the rot through my chakra at least.

"Can you perhaps use them in some way towards the purpose, perhaps to rot away the bodies?" he scratches his chin as he says the words.

There is a long pause where he takes a drink from his bottle while waiting for me to respond.

It… might work though I'd be worried about the risk of that not actually solving the problem but just making it harder in the end, I say so.

"Bah, you hesitate too much girl, it's worth a try if nothing else."

I sigh as I walk back to my chosen spot and continue my training.


There have been more battles with Iwa in the last month than before, so far none have broken past the fortress as long as Oniwa or I were present. Iwa has also yet to redeploy their actually elite forces to the south since the first failed attempt as well.

"I must say you present me with a far more interesting challenge than I had expected when I was asked about making a prosthetic for a swordsman." said the man across from as he pours over a schematic on a desk.

The man in question was known as Tsubaki Akaichi, he was a Suna jounin reasonably skilled at puppetry and medical ninjutsu passing through the southern border on his way to the north. It was Oniwa's idea to ask the man if he could perhaps help me with getting an arm, it was apparently disgraceful that the next Onikage only had one arm.

"I apologize if what I am asking is too hard, it was worth asking just in case." I bow at the waist while apologizing to the man for wasting his time.

"Now I didn't say anything about it being too hard, it's just a surprisingly challenging task is all." he says while putting out a sun kissed hand towards me.

"If your chakra network is as caustic and deadly as you say it is, I don't think I'll be able to make you anything permanent and it will never be as strong as your other arm is," he pauses and runs a hand through his dirty blond hair, "thinking about it though I might just be able to help you come up with a way to work around that, perhaps needles or shuriken launchers in the forearm."

The man becomes lost in thought as I simply stand across from the desk we had given him in the medical offices.

It was odd being in here without the familiar blue haired medic shouting at me about something or other.

"I'll do it!" I'm harshly dragged out of my reminiscing as the man slams his hand down on the table.

"It won't be free of course, and we'll need to test what materials resist your chakra the best, but you've caught my interest enough that I think I'd kick myself if I didn't help you out at all."

I bow deeply to the man, thanking him profusely before running off to tell Oniwa and Isshin-sensei the good news.

I can't wait to send my mother a message about the long awaited prosthetic once it's done.


"Retreat! Retre-" The fleeing Iwa Jounin is interrupted, it's rather hard to keep talking without a head after all.

"It's The Crane we need to inform the com-" the other one dies from the quick cut of a rot clone.

On and on it goes, the Iwa forces in the south have learned admirably that when I arrive on the field the battle is already lost for them.

"Where's our reinfor-" "Ibuki take my hand we ne-" "Doton: Ky-" "You killed Kirei you b-" "Sensei what we do, she's killed too ma-" "My legs, my legs!"

"MY NAME IS GYOUBU MASATAKA ONIWA, AND AS I BREATH NONE OF YOU SHALL PASS THIS FIELD ALIVE!"

There is an explosion on the field as Oniwa finally makes his entrance. In the distance past the flying bodies of the massive man's entrance I see the reinforcements we had been warned about, at their head the Iwa Jounin Commander is watching in horror.

To give the man credit he still gave the order to charge, it was only two combatants after all surely we couldn't kill all of them.

An hour later as Oniwa and I stand in a now silent and very dead forest, it strikes me that I am nearly as tall as he is now.

"Now that's what I call a battle, Mizutori!" Oniwa laughs boisterously, his hands on his hips.

"We arrived too late to save the scouts though."

"They will be remembered for I GYOUBU MASATAKA ONIWA will send a letter personally to all the fa-" I tune out the rest of his spiel, it's not the first time I've heard it and it's unlikely to be the last time.

I had my own post-battle ritual to get to after all.

"Fuhaiton: Soso No Cho."

The hand signs have become familiar after so many times using it. Suddenly and without warning as if spawned from the very air around me thousands of rot butterflies take to the air.

I feel what little chakra I had expended in the fight return to me. The bodies of the combatants surrounding us are being devoured one tiny rotting bite at a time, their remaining chakra corrupted and given to me by mine.

I was worried about it.

This isn't how The Scarlet Rot works, it shouldn't let me use it to my advantage in such a way.

My dreams had become nightmares lately, the memories of the few happy times she had before the shattering were gone now.

My nights were now spent under a rotting tree, fighting a man who had already killed all of my siblings save the one.

Over and over again, every night the same dream.

It always ends with the same words.

"The scarlet bloom flowers once more."

I wake up after that, every single time.

It's like it's trying to tell me something.

"You coming Mizutori?"

I look up from the rapidly disappearing bodies towards my very large teacher, so much like the brother I had once driven to madness in the fields of Caelid.

I merely give him a nod.


I stare at the piece of paper in my hand with trepidation.

'...return to Kusagakure asap, I have need of your services once more.'

It was from the Daimyo.

"Bah!" I look at the shout of outrage from the larger man across from me sitting at his desk.

"I don't know what he's thinking taking my apprentice out from under me like this, but I don't like it."

His arms are crossed and his pipe is in his mouth, mercifully he at least has the window open.

"Perhaps we should remind the Daimyo of why exactly you were given your title, Commander." I look to the side where Isshin sits as well, he looks even frailer than before.

He likely doesn't have much time left.

"No, it's fine." I surprise even myself with the words honestly, it's anything but fine.

Before the two older men can say anything I continue, "It might just be a reassignment from the council, things aren't going well in the north after all."

"Then why not call me up as well, surely they can see that sending us both will only increase our chances of success."

I concede the point but hold my ground.

"Besides, it would be nice to see my mother again." I nervously rub the wrist of my prosthetic, it's a hodgepodge of gold, steel, and other assorted materials all selected specifically to assist with my chakra eating through the arm.

I'm told it should last me a year before I'll need to get a new one, as long as I stop growing soonish.

"Fine," Oniwa sighs before tapping the ashes from his pipe, "But I want you to hold your head high, you'll be the next Onikage soon and we can't afford to let you be pushed around by an upjumped civilian."

"I'll be gone by first light tomorrow then." I move to stand but Isshen clears his throat as I move to pass him.

"Tomoe." The old man announces quietly.

"Hm?"

"Tomoe, that's who you remind me of." He takes a drink from his bottle of sake that has followed him everywhere in the past few months.

"I don't know who that is." I gaze towards the old man, behind me I hear Oniwa give a hum of acknowledgement.

"Back in my prime she was a… friend maybe, there were few masters of the sword like her."

I stand there silently feeling awkward as the man struggles to stand up.

"To see her fight, it was like she was dancing. When you looked into her eyes... you'd feel as if you were being drawn into the depths of the ocean. I was completely taken by her and it almost killed me. I've lived a long life, but that was the closest I've come to death, Ishida."

There is a pause before the man chuckles and pats me on the shoulder, "Enjoy your time with your mother girl, don't lose yourself like she did."
And with that the man walks out the room leaving me dumbfounded and Oniwa silent.

"Hah, I guess that's that then, I'll see you after the war, Mizutori, hopefully we'll both still be alive afterwards." Oniwa says his piece before getting up and leaving me alone in his office.

I take one last look around the place I'd spent so much of time in for the past six months before with a sigh leaving and closing the door behind me, Kusagakure awaits.

From the perspective of an outsider Kusagakure is the same as it has ever been, a plain of tall grass blowing in the wind with a smattering of farms and small hovels intermixed with hidden entrances to the underground passageways.
At the center of these farms and hovels lies the veritable mansion that the Daimyo resides in, it's idyllic and tranquil bringing to mind pictures of a simpler life.

I grew up here my whole life, the war has ruined Kusagakure.

The streets are empty, where once children ran and played games there now sat only an uneasy silence.

Where once the shinobi who lived beneath the village had given a nominal show of staying out of the area that made up the above ground part of the village. Now, chunin and genin patrolled the streets constantly, the civilians hiding in their grass and paper houses at the sight of the signature headband.

Deciding on a whim that the Daimyo can wait, I start down the familiar path towards my family's farm. On a walk that I once could not make without stopping at least ten or more times to talk to old women or young children, I now met no one but their ghosts.
In the distance I can see men watching in the grass, the conical hats common of the land in general on their heads, the slight glint of metal across their necks the only hint that they are not simple farmers.

"Mizutori, is that you?" I feel myself lock up from the sound of my mothers familiar and loving voice.

Glancing behind me haltingly I get a glimpse of her, she looks the same as ever, her vibrant crimson hair so unique to the both of us on proud display. She had a basket in her hands, it was filled to the brim with groceries.

"Yea." Stupid, stupid, stupid I haven't seen my own mother in over half a year and that's all I can say in respo-

I rock back from the weight of a grown adult launching herself at me, numbly I bring my arms around her shoulders.

"It's okay, I understand." I barely hear the words muffled into my clothes as they are, it's enough to hear them at all.

The rest of the walk to my old home feels warmer than it had started, even if I'm not the one filling the silence.

---

"You're so thin, you need to eat more lest you stunt your growth Mizutori."

I accept the plate of deserts with as much tact as I can muster, I neglect to mention that I am a lot bigger than both of my parents already.

"I love the arm, it suits you, all grim and sad looking you know?"

I decide to take the statement as the compliment it was probably meant as.

"I remember your mother when she first came to Kusagakure, all smiles and charm that one, you should try to be more like her."

Mother is hosting guests tonight, it would seem that I have found the old woman I remember from a scant few months ago.

"Now now, let the girl rest, she's just come home from the front. I'm sure she would like some time to herself."

I thank whatever gods exist in this world that at least one of these old women had the tact to see that I do not in fact enjoy their constant gossip.

"Peshaw, Mei you know she could use a little help from her elders just as much as any other young girl, just look at her matted hair, it's almost grown arms!"

Internally I sigh, only the apologetic smile coming from my mother across the table keeps me from making it audible.

It was a long meal.

---

After what felt like an eternity, the nagging elderly visitors finally left our family home.

The silence feels deafening after the hours of chatter that had resonated around the house for so long, I am reminded of the time I left for the Kyoshin Fortress shortly after father's death.

This time there isn't even a meal to distract me from the question that lingers in the thick and heavy air.

"I'll be leaving again tomorrow." I blurt it out before I can overthink my words.

There is a long moment of quiet after my abrupt statement, I don't have the courage to look up from the table to see her reaction.

Eventually so quietly I'm not even sure she had said anything at all, "I know."

I can see my flesh and blood arm shaking in my lap, why am I shaking?

"I'll be back again."

Am I cold? I feel a gentle breeze of the wind blow through the still open door, it's a pleasant contrast from the moist and humid air. Then why am I shivering in the dying embers of a summer's day?

"I know."

Am I in danger? I'm in my childhood home, in the middle of an allied village and even despite all that, I know there are so few threats I would need to worry so greatly about in this world. Then why am I tense and wound up like I am mere moments from joining a battle?

"I'm a lot stronger now."

Please say something else, stop doing this to yourself. It's the only chance I'll have to see my mother for the foreseeable future and all I can talk about is fighting, ninja, training, and missions.
What happened to our conversations about food, clothing, the farm, or the simple gossip around town?

"I know."

I hear the scraping of her chair as she gets up and comes around behind me, my vision is glued onto my shaking arm.

If I had the eyes with which to cry, I'm sure I would be.

If only I could know why that is.

"Mama…"

The sight of my shaking arm is blocked by my mother's arms wrapping around me with her head resting against my shoulder, my throat is tight and struggles to continue.

"It's okay to let it out, Misutori, I'm here."

It's a whisper against my ear, I barely hear it and yet it tells me so much despite its volume.

As I feel myself stop shaking I know that even if it's just for tonight, I know that everything will be alright, mama's here after all.

---

The next morning greets me with a quickly approaching dread sinking into my stomach. I stand on the path leading further into the village, the sun beats down on my body uncomfortably. In the distance I see the Daimyo's palace sitting awkwardly in the middle of Kusagakure, an ugly cancer ready and waiting to be excised.

"No matter what happens from here on out, know that I love you Mizutori." Mother comes up to my side and struggles to put her arm around my shoulder.

"I love you too, mother." my response comes out barely louder than a whisper.

"Now, go out there and make your father proud, we'll both be watching you closely." She pushes against my back with both hands and shoves me further down the road.

She's right, the world awaits and Mizutori Ishida can't stay the sad little girl stuck at her family farm forever.

I straighten the conical hat on my head, brush off fathers haori and move to take hold of my future.

I don't get very far before I am accosted by a genin informing me of a requested meeting with the shinobi council. A part of me wants to blow the council off and go deal with the Daimyo now, the rest of me just wants to make the snake wait longer.

I decide to be petty and go see what the council wants.

The tunnels that make up the shinobi part of the village exist in stark contrast to the civilian residents on the surface. Where the surface is now quiet and sullen, held in a tense balance between panic and depression, the underground is bustling and busy, every step a gamble on if you would be stepping on the feet of some genin or a forgotten box of paperwork.

The entrance to the council's meeting room is demarcated by a sign etched into the rock doorway, doorway being the keyword as there is in fact no door to speak of. After a moment where my genin guide asks me to stay outside while he enters to announce my presence I am allowed entry. Inside sits three men around a table fit to hold seven seats, one of the three men I recognise to be Musashi.

"Yo Ishida-chan, long time no see." The familiar man says while holding up a hand in greeting, he looks more tired and worn out then I remember him looking.

I respond with a nod towards the chatty ninja and a bow towards the other two as my escorting genin runs off elsewhere.

One was a younger man with dark black hair and bags under his eyes, he was focused almost exclusively on a set of reports on the table in front of him. The other man was older with very broad shoulders and a rather large gray beard reaching onto the floor, despite the other two's bedraggled appearance he looks like he has been on a vacation for weeks.

"It's good to finally meet you Ishida-san, I've heard alot about you from Musashi and Isshin's oni down south, I'm-" The old man is cut off by the younger ninja slamming his fist down onto the table between them and I.

"I'm afraid we don't have time for long and drawn out introductions Jinbei," he finally looks up from his reports and looks me up and down, whatever he finds must be satisfactory as he continues, "Ishida-san, I am Shikoso Kamo and this is Jinbei Mizuji."

While the now named Jinbei grumbles something about the youth of today's lack of manners Musashi takes the time to intercede, "Unfortunately, he's probably right old man," the jounin leans back and stretches his back before ushering me to sit down, "Ishida-chan as much as it pains me to come crawling to you after you just arrived home from a mission, we need your help."

Shikoso Kamo lays out a map of the Elemental Nations on the table on which the front lines in the north and south of the Land of Mushrooms are clearly marked. Kamo points towards the sole minor nation to our north and one of only two neutral nations on the map.

"To start off with Ishida-san, as I am sure you are aware this is Takigakure up until this point they have managed to stay neutral in the war despite overtures from every major nation around."

The old man next to Kamo suddenly sighs with a loud and thunderous breath of air, "I thought we wanted this to go quickly Shikoso, just tell the girl what we need her to do."

The old man has the right of it frankly, while I probably could manage the strategic parts of a war in this manner easily enough, I don't really want to unless I am forced to.

Just point me to where my sword needs to be swung and I'll swing it.

Shikoso Kamo gives the large man a hateful sidelong glance before turning back to me, "The point Ishida-san, is that they are no longer neutral and according to our scouts they are going to join Iwa in a joint offensive into our northern border."

"HAH if that was all I would go up there myself and show those damn fruit eaters what happens when you piss off the man who can drown water!"

How does one drown water?

Perhaps sensing my hesitation Musashi picks up where the other two left off before I can derail the conversation, "The problem is that they have a Jinchuriki, and currently you have the best track record against the Tailed Beasts among Kusa's forces."

While that seems sensible enough, don't our major nation allies both also have Jinchuriki themselves?

I decide to voice my question now that there exists room in the conversation that I can jump into.

"Caught onto that did you Ishida-chan," Mushashi has a smug looking smile grow on his face as he looks to the other two, "Told ya she was a smart one."

Shikoso Kamo sighs and Jinbei simply frowns.

"To tell you the truth, Ishida-chan, they do but Konoha is refusing to send the Nine-tails into combat and while Suna's Jinchuriki is a good man, a strong ninja, and a personal friend of the Third Kazekage…" Musashi trails off letting the sentence hang before Kamo picks up where he left off.

"He's only the One-tailed Jinchuriki, and busy in Suna besides, he wouldn't be able to turn the tides against the Seven-tails, the Five-tails, and the Four-tails on his own even if he was free to fight on our northern border."

Put in terms like that it was beginning to sound like an impossible task even by my standards.

"That's because it is, your official mission is to assist a Konoha Team lead by Jiraiya of the Sannin to help defend against the three enemy Jinchuriki, Konoha has officially requested we aid them however we can against such an overwhelming force."

Shikoso reaches under the table and pulls out a scroll that he then hands to me.

"Konoha doesn't realize yet that even if they sent out all three Sannin it wouldn't be enough against three separate Jinchuriki."

Jinbei lets out a loud noise, "Bah and knowing them they'll refuse to see that fact until they are forced to bring out the Nine-tails despite whatever is causing their hesitation." Shikoso nods at the older man's statement before continuing.

"Indeed, which is why we need Team Jiraiya to lose their fight against the tailed beasts preferably without casualties, saying that however, even that isn't the real reason we are sending you north."

Reaching under the table once more he pulls outs another scroll and puts it on the table, this one is much better sealed than the first one he handed me.

As I reach out to grab the scroll Musashi slaps his hand over mine, "The truth Ishida-chan is that we are losing this war," moving his hand off mine he points back to the map and towards the northern front line, "We've lost two council members on this front already and I'm recovering from an injury myself, and unfortunately we can't send Oniwa up north for risk of Hanzo joining the fray."

"There are reports of enemy forces making it past our patrols and despite our best efforts we are running out of men to keep them from rampaging through our supply lines." Having said his piece, Musashi takes his hand off the map and Kamo puts his own finger down on a spot in the center of the country labeled 'Kanabi Bridge'.

"This is the true reason we are sending you north, there is an army of Iwa and Taki ninja gathering to take Kanabi Bridge, the bridge is a vital supply point in the middle of our country leading straight into our heartlands. It wouldn't be wrong to state that whoever owns Kanabi Bridge owns Kusagakure and we can't afford to move any more forces off of either front to combat an army in our own country, lest we lose everything anyway."

But if we don't respond Kusagakure will be knocked out of the war, and if Kusagakure is knocked out of the war then Iwa would be free to move its troops straight into Konoha, through our own freshly conquered land.

"Precisely, frankly I don't think you can do this Ishida-san," seeing my look Shikoso Kamo puts his hands up to placate me, "Not to say that you aren't capable of course, but ultimately even if you are as strong as everyone is saying, the village is on its last legs already, we would need a miracle to survive another year even if you do manage to defeat an entire army by yourself."

A miracle.

A miracle he asks for, it makes since I suppose it wasn't that long ago I wasn't even trusted to fight against simple scouts when I was in the Kyoshin Fortress. Now they are trusting a nine year old girl to fight off an entire army on her own based only on hearsay and rumors.

A miracle he prays for, is Hanzo really so strong that even the idea of moving their best fighters off his border terrifies veteran jounin to the point that hoping a nine year old girl could defeat an entire army alone is the preferable alternative? Why does everything seem to come back to that man, father was traumatized at the idea of him, the Daimyo is terrified of him, merely surviving him is worthy of being labeled as legends in Konoha. One day Hanzo of the Salamander, one day.

A miracle he cries for, it would take an act of divine intervention to deliver victory to a flagging minor village trying to hold off an entire empire. Except, unbeknownst to them, they do have a goddess don't they?

A shame then, that this goddess has a price for the kind of miracle they would need.

"The Daimyo." I finally interrupt the silence after a long tense moment.

Kamo raises a brow, Jinbei voices a questioning grunt, and Musashi simply closes his eyes, already understanding where I am going.

It's Jinbei Mizuji, the old decrepit coward who's boastful of past glories yet too scared to go out and fight the enemy at his doorstep that asks first.

"What about the Daimyo, Girl?"

It's Shikoso Kamo, the lazy and cruel strategist so used to sending children off to die in a far off field that the idea of showing weakness to a man he's not even at war with is worse than losing the very nation he is sworn to defend, that realizes my price second.

"You couldn't possibly be suggesting…"

And finally it's Musashi Miyamoto, the wolf in sheep's clothing who's only real desire is the blood of his enemies. So used to putting on a mask and lying to all and sundry that the idea of a nine year old child so easily seeing through his disguises and fake stories of friendship with her father scares him so bad that he can't help but keep the mask on anyway, that speaks third and speaks final.

"If that's what it takes then it's a price worth paying, Ishida-chan."

I smile a grin so wide I feel it tug at my cheeks and stand up from my seat to give a bow to the other two men, "Then that is my price for you, you give me the Daimyo and I'll give you the miracle you so desire."

There is a long period of time where there is no sound in the room save the shallow breaths of the two men in front of me, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

It's Jinbei Mizuji that breaks first, the old man seems to collapse in on himself, the weight of his past suddenly too much to bear, "I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone decided the snake was too stupid to live, fine we have a deal."

Shikoso Kamo is in his own little world now hunched over and looking at his precious maps gnawing on his fingertips as he thinks, "A coup then… we are one of the only minor villages with a civilian government left at this point so I suppose it wouldn't be that odd but…"

He finally stops muttering to himself and looks up towards you with a crazed look in his eyes, "It'll have to wait until after the war at least I… I can't predict how our allies will react to us doing something so rash in the middle of the war, but surely-"

"I refuse to wait that long, I'll even be generous and give you your miracle first Shikoso Kamo, but I expect my payment when I return." I declare while shaking my head in refusal.

The young man was now practically vibrating, eyes darting every which way, going through every possible alternative in his oh so prized brain.

"But how will we handle the war or the diplomacy without a figurehead, we don't have a Hanzo of our…" he trails off suddenly and stands up with eyes clear, understanding having finally breached through the cloud, "The Onikage."

"And I, his heir as named by the man himself, rejoice shinobi council of Kusagakure, it seems you'll be a hidden village with a Kage in truth soon."

It starts as a small barely audible chuckle before slowly morphing into a loud and deranged cackle, the young ninja convulsing with every breath.

"Fine, fine, you want to throw this whole village into chaos that's fine," he reaches up to his head and rips off his headband, the sound of fabric tearing echoes throughout the room, before throwing it onto the table the other two men standing up in shock, "Normally I'd do this differently, but we have an army at our doorsteps don't we? So take it Mizutori Ishida, and be the heir to this damned village, it's time we started gambling anyway!"

"SOHEI!" The now deranged sounding man shouts out the door for the genin that had escorted me here, after a short moment the genin appears, "Get me another headband, I have work to do."

With that Shikoso Kamo rushes out of the room, which I take as my cue to leave as well grabbing the torn and discarded headband for myself. Jinbei is too despondent to say anything as I leave but Musashi simply smirks in my direction and gives me a 'fight well' before I am too far to hear him any longer.

Exiting the tunnels that make up the Hidden Village I come once more upon the blight that is the Daimyo's castle, I suppose I could see what the man might want one last time before I head out to perform a miracle.

---

Naganori Asano was being forced to wait.

That alone would upset him, he was an important man and the fact that someone would deign to make him wait was an insult of the highest order.

Even then though, it was who was making him wait that was really upsetting the young man, who did Mizutori Ishida think she was?

She was a cripple and the daughter of a disgraced rice farmer besides, he was a Daimyo of a nation at war and she was making him wait.

When after a full day and a half of her being in his village his assistant had finally told him that Mizutori Ishida was here to see him, he had nearly lept of out of his seat in irritation.

It was only when the door to his office had opened, without the customary knock from his assistant to alert him to the guests presence, that Naganori had realized that something was wrong. It was the sight of a ragged and torn shinobi headband crudely wrapped around the crippled mercenary's neck that silenced the torrent of words that was already on its way out of his mouth.

A ragged and torn Kusagakure headband.

"What is the meaning of this?" the words come out hollow sounding, even to his own ears.

"Hm, the meaning of what?"

She dares to play coy.

"Why are you wearing that headband, Ishida?" The name comes out like venom, visions of a disgraced ronin riding to his death flashes through his mind, he pushes it to the side.

The girl has the gall to smile, he ignores the shiver running down his spine absently notes that she has never smiled in his presence before.

"I was given a promotion it seems, Naganori-sama~"

A boiling flame is lit within his breast at the words.

How dare they?

How dare she?

She is his puppet not theirs just like her father had been before her, he will need to find out who has attempted to steal her from him and correct them of the misunderstanding.

But first the girl.

"Who?" it is almost difficult to get the words out, the injustice of it all nearly enough to make him scream.

The girl takes a step forwards, he wants to run away stands up to be at her height he's still looking up at her.

"Who ever could you be asking about Naganori-sama?" She drops the sing song tone for the rhetorical question.

His fist hits his desk despite himself she doesn't flinch to make his point known why doesn't she flinch?

"You know what I mean, Ishida!"

She takes another step towards his desk he doesn't notice his own feet taking him a single step backwards.

The girl tilts her head to the side, smile falling away, before bringing her new prosthetic hand up to rest on his desk when did she get close enough to do that?

"What did you need so urgently from me, Naganori-sama?" She sidesteps his question.

His hand is curled into a fist at his side, shaking from his fear anger.

Naganori decides that if the girl wishes to wait until later to solve this disgrace, he would let her delay, for now.

"I've decided that the shinobi of Kusagakure seem to have their war well enough in hand, I need you to act as an envoy to our allied nations to make an impression of my strength to them." The words come out shaky and uncertain despite himself, this was supposed to be his diplomatic coup-de-grace. A final statement of his nation's strength towards the overbearing ego of the Lands of Fire and Wind, so why did it almost feel like he was hammering in the final nail of his own coffin with every word?

Ishida's unexpected confidence finally seems to waver, almost seeming to be taken aback by his words.

Taking the girls' silence as tacit understanding of his diplomatic brilliance or at least willing subservience to his plans, Naganori decides to circle back to the more pressing matter of someone trying to take his puppet away from him.

"So, with your new mission out of the way Ishida-san," he wets his lips, "I would still like to know who had the gall to-"

There is a prosthetic hand on his shoulder Ishida is no longer in front of him.

"You don't seem to understand your position, Naganori-sama~"

The words are a whisper against his ears, her voice silencing out the rest of the world save for the hand on his shoulder, the breath blowing against his ear, and the heartbeat ringing throughout his body. Where are his guards, doesn't he have guards for this very reason?

"There is an army at your doorstep and you are worried about diplomacy, a pathetic display," the voice continues, "There is a threat to your very life and power happening underneath your nose and you only wish to use your best weapon as a means to soothe your ego."

The ground rushes up to meet him, he lands on hands and knees with his head bowed there is a sword's edge resting against the back of his neck.

"You are a snake in the grass Naganori-sama," despite not actually getting any louder the voice now feels like it is screaming out what it sees as fact out to the entire world, "but you struck something too big to swallow."

The sword, and with it the feeling of his impending execution, raises from his neck.

"Now, your would be prey has decided it's hungry, Naganori-sama." Ishida is walking away, the 'click' 'clack' of her sandals echoing all the way to his door.

He still can't raise his head to look at her.

"I'm off to kill an army now, you have until I return to make it a meal worth remembering, Naganori-sama."

The door to his office closes shut with a soft click.

In the overbearing silence that remains Naganori Asano doesn't find the strength to pull himself off the floor for another hour past that.

During the time before the Warring States era the Elemental Nations as a whole were primarily ruled by petty merchant lords and prestigious aristocratic bloodlines that could trace their lineage back to the days before even the introduction of chakra. Conflict during this time was primarily handled via a myriad of samurai clans on retainer to the land owners and non-chakra enhanced levy soldiers pulled up from the peasants and feudal workers of the lower classes.

The instability in this system lies primarily in the hands of the samurai retainers who's chakra enhanced abilities granted them an outsized political power compared to their relative ability and size. The shinobi clans as a whole, save for a select few venerable bloodlines who existed in name only prior, come about around the tail end of this period. Born from samurai clans that managed to exist independently from the land owners of the time. These independent samurai clans made a living off of individually earned mercenary jobs as they sold their abilities to the highest bidder, doing work the traditional clans would consider dishonorable or disgraceful such as assassination or espionage for a relatively cheap price.

Over time, these landowners would come to heavily depend on the wider range of utility and ruthlessness provided by these mercenary samurai clans over the dogmatic creeds of their personal retainers. Eventually becoming known as shinobi or 'one who sneaks' from their duplicitous reputation.

As the Warring Clan period began to truly pick up steam, these shinobi clans would eventually drive the old school samurai retainers out of business almost entirely. Today only those from the Land of Iron, where samurai clans have always held a greater than average control on affairs of state, still practice the old ways. Even these samurai however have moved away from being personal retainers to some petty lord and now primarily exist as mercenaries and bodyguards to whoever has the deepest pockets. If samurai clans have been reduced to near extinction, then the idea of feudal levies as a whole has become entirely alien, with non-chakra enhanced soldiers exclusively laying in the realm of bandits and fraudsters.

The Warring Clan period would be the peak of the buyer/seller dynamic between the shinobi clans and their landowner customer base. Shinobi clans are, by their very nature as aristocratic families of super powered assassin's who make money almost exclusively from being stronger than everyone else, egoistic and quick to take offense. When two families of superhuman assassins grow to dislike each other this tends to lead into an all out war between the clans, with diplomacy either barely tried or never attempted at all. Shinobi clan wars are above all else expensive, and so desperately seeking money and resources to fund their inter-clan feuds the shinobi clans would take more and more jobs from the landowners, now fully settled into a social class known as Daimyo (literally: Dai Large and myo from myoden Private Land) because of their increasingly growing domains.

This state of affairs favored the Daimyo massively, as they no longer needed to spend exorbitant amounts of money to fund expensive private armies and can instead hire individual shinobi from influential clans based on or near their land for a relatively cheap price. The most successful Daimyo, the Daimyo's of Fire, Earth, Lightning, Wind, and Water had the foresight to spend their steadily growing coffers on expanding their personal demesne. This was done through various means, for example, the Water Daimyo started out as the head of a ruthless trade league that simply out competed the competition from his neighboring islands, and the Wind Daimyo was one man with the political and economic capital to buy out entire water systems and sources inside the sprawling deserts and arid wastelands that makes up most of his lands.

The shinobi clans in turn were disincentivized from ever turning on their local Daimyo as due to steadily increasing prices driven up by the need to fund the ever growing warfare between clans, the only people able to afford their services was the local Daimyo. Should a clan decide to cut ties with their local Daimyo it would only be a matter of time before an outsider clan would come in and reap the open market to the detriment of the native clans, causing insult and inevitably leading to another expensive and ruinous war.

At the time this seemed to be a stable and profitable, if incredibly violent, state of affairs. This status quo was suddenly and irrevocably changed when Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha signaled the end of the Warring States era and formed Konohagakure, The Village Hidden in the Leaves.

The relatively young but powerful Senju clan had been in a constant state of warfare with the much older and larger Uchiha clan for much of its existence. The bad blood from the many years of war would have made the idea of the two clans making peace seem impossible as no normal man could have made a lasting peace with an enemy so deeply distrusted and hated.

Hashirama Senju was no normal man.

Visionary, legend, reformer, peace maker, lord, God, Hokage. The first leader of the first Hidden village has been called many things in many ways, but he has never once been labeled as normal.

Though the details of why such a thing was formed is lost to time, known only to the two men who shook hands on that fateful day, the Hidden Village system would be a paradigm shift in the Elemental Nations not felt since the Sage of Six Paths taught his first students how to mold chakra.

When the Senju and Uchiha joined together they each brought with them their own networks of allied and client clans together to form what is now the shinobi forces of Konohagakure.
Suddenly, what was once an entire nation filled with feuding rival families only interested in their own monetary and personal growth, was now a single village of united clans with enough firepower to single handedly topple any landowner on the whole continent.

It was not long before the clans of other lands followed suit, forming their own Hidden Villages in order to defend against the newborn titan.

At first, the various Daimyo on the continent saw these villages as only a benefit to their power and many even assisted with the growth of Hidden Villages in their own lands, such as in Mushroom and Kusagakure. The existential problem that Hidden Villages posed for the Daimyo however would quickly become obvious.

Hidden Villages are powerful in a marshal sense, obscenely so even, but most importantly unlike shinobi clans they have civilians.

Civilians who make money in work that isn't just the family business.

The hidden secret to Hidden Villages is that they are economically powerful, powerful enough to sustain their own forces with their own money.

People hate a middleman and the Daimyo class had as a whole fallen into a trap of forming their entire identity off of being the middleman.

In the ensuing years the entire social order of the continent would be restructured as it became obvious that the shinobi no longer needed the Daimyo class they had once depended on to provide their livelihoods.

The exception was the Great Shinobi Villages, where the land ruled by their Daimyo was too large for the incredibly centralized Hidden Villages to take over wholesale. So they instead pushed the Daimyo into nominal power, enough to handle the wide reaching land too far away and too large to cover with their centralized city states.

The other exception was Kusagakure and The Land of Mushrooms.

A land trapped in the crossroads of two giants Mushroom had, since time immemorial, attempted to portray themselves as neutral. This was mostly made possible because the land itself was made up of tall craggy ravines and near impossible to cross mushroom forests, so much so that from the west there were only two logistically feasible crossing points one in the north and one in the south.

The problem lay in the fact that to the east lay the endless prairies of The Land of Fire, and it was Mushroom's own little slice of that prairie that most of its population lived in and where Kusagakure would one day be founded. When the Daimyo of Mushroom, the Asano dynasty, had first begun to take part in the chaos of the Warring States era it was with that same careful neutrality and mercurial decision making that had worked for them for generations prior.

So it was that the rejected and washed out shinobi from other clans would begin to congregate around the patronage of the Asano dynasty. Willing to take near any job for any price Mushroom shinobi began to acquire a reputation of being the 'cheap' option.

For when you wanted a job done, but didn't want to pay the premium of your own estate's shinobi.

The shinobi clans of Mushroom had always been closely aligned with those in Fire, a good majority of which were either parent clans of Mushroom's own clans or even the original clans of its many rogue ninja. It would come as no surprise then that when the Warring States period ended and Kusagakure was founded it was these same mercurial, cheap, and greedy shinobi that would decide that the old golden goose that was the Daimyo was worth keeping around in a role beyond the mere ceremonial and administrative role that the major villages kept theirs trapped in.

Their delicate neutrality would be forced to end come the First Shinobi World War which erupted after a long period of building tension starting when Hashirama Senju handed out the Jinchuriki to the most powerful Hidden Villages.

Kusagakure was not one of these villages, lacking this powerful tool Kusagakure was forced to finally ally itself with one of its giant neighbors. Konohagakure was the obvious choice for an ally considering the various factors inside and because of the land's own borders.

While the First Shinobi World War would be destructive and ruinous on a level not seen since the Warring States period, it was the Second Shinobi World War that would define the country culturally for the rest of its existence.

The SWW2 would come about when Konohagakure attempted a bold and blatant annexation attempt on the then considered minor and unimportant Amegakure with the help of Sunagakure and Kusagakure.

One man would halt the Great Village's advance.

Hanzo of the Salamander.

When all seemed lost and none of the neighboring regions were willing to commit to what was thought to be a losing battle, it was Hanzo that convinced them it wasn't one.

When the whole country was blasted to ruin and battlegrounds grew to encompass the entire nation, it was Hanzo that would turn the tide of such massive battles and rebuild the nation's crumbling infrastructure in their wake.

To survive Hanzo was to become as legends.

To fall to Hanzo was to become a mere statistic.

In the near decade since the SWW2 Kusagakure has yet to recover from the amount of its own best and brightest that was added to the man's long list of defeated enemies.

Now, a year on from the start of the SWW3 the question on everyone's lips, as Kusagakure is quickly becoming what Amegakure was in the last war, is why hasn't Hanzo joined yet?

Hanzo, who was thought to be a steadfast ally of Iwagakure after the major village's defense of Ame's independence, has yet to join the war started by his very ally.

When will Hanzo of the Salamander decide it's time to show the world what he can do now that he is no longer on the defense.

Can Kusagakure survive an invading Hanzo of the Salamander?

---

Have a random lore post since someone on SV was asking about some of the AU elements of this story and I felt like expanding on it while at work today.
Also I drew a Crude map to help picture what the front lines look like in Kusa, the further you get from Kusa the less accurate and to scale the map get as far as front lines go.