Private The Prelude to War

Kei had been preparing himself to head to the city when he was summoned. He needed to gather more books on repair skills to learn and practice for the commitment he made to the shrine. There was a message given to him in passing, from one of the help, and the note inside left little for him to imagine. "He says it's urgent, Kirame," Kei spoke softly to his companion, the small firefly squid nestled in his hair and thrumming gently against his skull. Their communication was still limited, but he didn't mind all too much. Kirame understood him, in some manner, and that was enough. "I think our trip will have to wait. I promise to find you some good shrimp or crab when we get done with whatever he has planned." The walk from his temporary housing was a bit long, but with his increase in training and stamina, he decided a healthy run wouldn't be a bad idea. It definitely helped their pace.

With his little friend satisfied with his promise, Kei left his satchel in the spare room he was borrowing temporarily and made his way to his mentor's home. The surrounding housing seemed to be bustling a bit, but the energy felt uncomfortable, restless even. Certain residents seemed to be preparing their buildings for what looked like a storm, but the weather didn't seem dangerous to Kei. It shook him a bit, given his last visit had been rather calm despite the chaotic people he met. He made his way through the paths into the main building, hoping his memory would serve him enough to get where he needed to go. Soon enough, he stumbled upon Seto in the reception hall, his elder clearly showing signs of discomfort. "Is everything okay? I tried to come as quickly as possible. I was planning on visiting the village to gather books on building, but this place seems...upturned?" He wasn't sure if that was the right word, but he couldn't quite name the energy with no clear understanding.

MFT
WC: 341

Kei Speech
Kei Thoughts

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The candlelight flickered through the gentle breeze of the room as he remained motionless beneath the ancient pillar, the fabric of his dark blue kimono sleeves pulling as his crossed arms tensed. When his eyes finally lifted to meet Kai's gaze, they burned with a intensity his apprentice had yet seen, even when they battled that great beast not so long ago. They were fierce, monstrously so, yet controlled as his pupils narrowed to razor sharp pile slits, showing just how serious he was. "War is coming...." His proclamation hung between them, like throwing a drawn blade through a dense fog, his voice echoing off the ceilings. Despite his attempt to hide the obvious, it was clear his voice was carrying the weight of centuries old grudges, memories and stories of past battles, ones that were just asking to be asked. A pause came over him, leaving only the distant sound of a Destroyer patrolling the walls outside. "And soon, this land may be engulfed in chaos..." This time, the pause was deliberate, as to allow the gravity of the situation to settle within his apprentice before continuing several seconds later.

"I summoned you here today..." A momentarily pause yet again, those this one short, albeit with some hesitation. "...because it's time for you to answer the call of war..." H The admission cost him more then he liked, not wanting to lose his apprentice to the horrors of war, but Kei knew what he signed up for when he took him on as his apprentice, especially after Kei had told him he wanted to be strong enough so he could protect those and what he cares for most. His jaw clenched briefly at his own words before he continued, his tone turning softer, something perhaps of a older sibling or parent "Though, given your age...and other responsibilities, I can forgive you wish not to." His lips turned thinned. "The battlefield isn't supposed to be for children. Something I know first hand..." His words trailed off, not wanting to finish that statement, having learned the consequences of battle without being sufficiently prepared. It was also a white peace, or out, should Kei be wise enough from a certain perspective to take it. Not everyone was destined to become a warrior, and perhaps Kei had found his calling while away.

With what grace he could muster, he rose from his spot on the ground until he was standing over Kei. "But as I said once before..." His expression then suddenly turned into something dangerously calm, something he was famous for at this point. "Warriors are not born....but created through conflict..." At that moment, his sharingan activated, pulsed for a moment as images of his past, of his past trials, of the trauma's he experienced, before fading, his tone carrying a hint of sorrow in it as he spoke again. "And unfortunately, loss." A heavy sigh overcame him as his attention drifted to the ancient tapestry, depicting a Tamashi Hero standing defiant against impossible odds, standing alone against a small army. The irony wasn't lost to him, having already experienced something similar before. "If your wondering how the hell this started?" H A few, dry chuckles escaped his lips. "I'm sure you can fathom some idea's~" H A smirk form on his lips, his eyes showing a promise of future conflict, and trials set for Kei, If he dared. "Border disputes, Ashigaru of another clan killing innocents....this was just a elaborate excuse, I'm sure, to invade..." H Making his last point for the moment, he brought his gaze back to Kei, showing a predatory delight in his eyes, his master still smirking. "Let them come. I'll destroy them all~"

Kei didn’t answer right away. For a moment, he only stood there, fingers curled loosely in the hem of his sleeve, staring at his mentor as though he were looking at one of the old tapestries brought suddenly to life. Heroes always spoke like that in the stories Komi used to tell him - words like war and conflict and loss - but they were usually followed by miracles. A divine beast appearing at the last second. A blessing from the stars. Someone brave enough to make it all right again.

This time, there was no miracle. Just Seto. Just the hall. Just the echo of that word, war, rattling around in his chest like a stone dropped into a well.

Kirame stirred faintly in his hair, a soft glow pulsing in response to Kei’s tightening breath. He reached up without thinking, resting two fingers against the tiny creature as if to reassure them both. The warmth grounded him, kept his thoughts from drifting too far into the dark places his imagination was suddenly eager to explore - fields burning like paper lanterns, houses folding in on themselves, the way silence sounded after screaming stopped.

“…War,” he repeated quietly, testing the word as if it might bite him.

His eyes dropped to the floor, tracing the veins in the polished stone. He thought of the villagers he’d passed on the way here - how they were fixing shutters and tying things down, the way people did before storms. He’d thought it strange then. Now it felt obvious, like realizing too late that the fairy tale monster had been hiding in plain sight the whole time.

“I…” Kei hesitated, then looked up again, honey brown eyes wide but steady, his streak of blue seemingly igniting with a soft glow. “I know I’m not…big. Or strong like you. And I know I don’t know much about fighting compared to everyone else.” A small, almost embarrassed smile tugged at his mouth, the kind he wore when admitting he’d broken something and was already planning how to fix it. “But I didn’t become a shinobi because I wanted to hurt people.”

His fingers curled tighter, knuckles whitening. “I wanted to protect them. The farmers. The kids who don’t know what borders are. The places that feel safe.” His voice wavered then, just a little, as the reality slipped fully into place. “If there’s going to be fighting… then those people will be scared. And someone has to stand between them and that fear.”

He swallowed, the childlike wonder in his gaze dimming - not gone, just reshaped into something more fragile and brave. “I don’t think I’m ready,” he admitted honestly. “But… I don’t think I could forgive myself if I turned away either.”

Kei straightened, small shoulders squaring with a determination that felt too heavy for his frame, yet fit all the same. “If this is the story that’s being written,” he said softly, “then I don’t want to be the part where someone looks back and says, he could have helped, but didn’t.”

His eyes flicked briefly to the ancient tapestry, then back to his mentor. “So… if you’re asking me to walk into the storm,” he finished, voice quiet but certain, “I will. Just - ” he paused, fingers brushing Kirame once more, “ - please don’t stop me from still being me while I do.”

The hall felt different after that. Like the page had turned, and there was no going back to the beginning.

MFT
WC: 585

Kei Speech
Kei Thoughts

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Kei stood very still while Seto spoke, like a squire in an old tale listening to a knight confess what dragons truly cost to slay. The hall seemed larger somehow, the ceiling higher, the shadows deeper, and his master’s voice carried through it like something carved from iron instead of breath. War did not sound like a banner snapping in the wind anymore. It sounded like armor that never quite came off, like rain that never stopped falling.

When Seto spoke of cutting people down, Kei’s stomach twisted, but he did not look away. He tried to imagine it the way stories did - two warriors meeting in a clash of destiny - but the picture kept changing. The enemy’s face blurred and shifted and became someone who might have once laughed, or carried groceries, or waited at a doorway for someone to return home. The heroic music in his head faded, replaced by something quieter and harder to hold. His fingers tightened in his sleeve, then loosened again, because clenching them felt too much like hiding.

And when Seto spoke of seeking seppuku, of believing that death was more bearable than continuing forward, something inside Kei lurched in a way that had nothing to do with fear. He looked up sharply then, really looking at his mentor - not at the warrior, not at the armor, not at the red eyes that had frightened enemies into retreat - but at the man who had once stood alone with a blade and decided he was not worth saving. The idea settled over Kei like cold rain. In the stories Komi used to tell, the heroes always had someone arrive in time. Someone to pull their hand back. Someone to remind them that the sun still rose. But Seto’s story did not sound like it had sunlight in it. You were alone.

Kirame’s glow dimmed and then flickered stubbornly brighter in his hair, as if protesting the darkness creeping into Kei’s thoughts. Kei reached up and brushed the tiny creature with two fingers, steadying himself. He turned his head slightly and looked at the tapestry behind him, at Mausima standing alone against a tide of enemies. The woven figure looked glorious, defiant, eternal. But now Kei wondered what the tapestry did not show - whether Mausima had been afraid, whether his hands had trembled before the first swing, whether he had looked back once and wished someone else would arrive instead.

A man who walks away from a battlefield is never the same man who walked onto it. The words echoed in Kei’s chest. He looked down at his own hands. They were small. They did tremble, just a little. He watched the tremor instead of pretending it wasn’t there. If this were a story, this would be the part where the young apprentice swore loudly and boldly that he would never change, that his heart would stay pure forever. But standing there beneath the weight of real armor and real memories, Kei knew that would be a lie. Even in fairy tales, storms soaked everything.

He took a step closer to Seto without realizing he had decided to move. Not because he wanted to hide behind him, but because the space between them felt wrong now, like a gap in a bridge. His chin lifted, not in defiance, but in quiet insistence. He was afraid - not of dying, but of becoming someone who could do what Seto described and feel nothing afterward. Afraid of turning efficient and empty. Afraid that the part of him that hesitated, that wondered about the enemy’s family, that felt sick at the thought of widows and orphans, would be the first thing to be burned away in the forge his master described.

But as he stood there, he realized something else. The forge did not only destroy. It reshaped. Seto was not an empty shell. He was scarred, yes. Haunted, yes. But he was also still standing here, promising not to let Kei walk into the storm alone. That meant something had survived in him too.

Kei drew in a slow breath and let it out, steadying the tremble in his hands until it became something he could carry instead of something that carried him. If this was truly the beginning of a darker chapter, then it would not be the kind written in shining ink and easy victories. It would be mud and thunder and choices that left marks. He did not pretend he would walk through it unchanged. Even heroes in tapestries faded at the edges.

But he straightened anyway.

If he was going to break someday, he decided, then he would break while standing between the storm and the people who could not stand there themselves. If he was going to lose pieces of himself, then he would make sure they were spent protecting someone else’s tomorrow. And if the battlefield tried to turn him into something hollow, he would hold onto the memory of this hall, of Kirame’s small stubborn light, and of his master’s voice promising to stand beside him.

Kei did not feel the need make another grand speech. He simply met Seto’s gaze, honey-brown eyes steady despite the fear still living in them, and gave the smallest nod - the kind a young knight might give before stepping onto field he knows will change him forever. "I trust you. No matter what happens out there, I'll remember this day." He made a silent swear to remind Seto of this day if he ever lost himself. If you're walking with me, then I'm walking with you too. I won't let you face this alone.

MFT
WC: 946

Kei Speech
Kei Thoughts

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