Ryu stepped out of the shower room, towel hung about his waist preserving no real modesty since he lived alone; his quite foot falls gently slapped against the hard wood of his home’s floors barely breaking the heavy silence that lived within the walls like an ever lurking roommate. The day’s effort had been washed off, his hair hung behind him only slightly damp now and drying quickly, water was evaporating off the planes and from the valleys of his musculature even quicker with every step he took. Gaining his room while he dragged the fingers of his right hand through his partially tousled hair to smooth the dark, glossy locks out at least a little before he took a comb to them, he set about dressing comfortably for the night in. Hakama cloaked his legs and a vest to match was draped over his shoulders and left to hang open while he eyed the file he used to grind down the points of the spines and talons on his left arm.
It had been a couple days since he spoke with Tayu Kiyoshi when the man had swayed the decision for Ryu to start mastering the beast and showing his arm with pride. It was no easy feat after two years of habitual motions, he always found himself picking up the file just before trying to get some rest and staring at it for moments before putting it back down. In those few days, he’d gone through two bed rolls and three blankets, finding the shredded cloth and fluffy material stuck to the spines and talons here and there. Irritation made him wrap the damn limb up before going to bed but he left it uncovered during the days at least.
Just before he settled down, he picked up a small watering pail that he filled every morning and kept by his door, and stepped through the halls in his home to a small back room that contained a large bay window; the only furniture in it was an aged rocking chair that was settled next to a thistle plant with a scarlet red bulb that was in full bloom despite the season.
Careful not to touch the thorns of the plant, the towering man gently poured water over the stem for a moment, letting the soil soak in the moisture before adding a little bit more. The flower shifted slightly as though being bowed towards him by a slight breeze even though no air stirred the room; he bowed his head in response, setting the watering pail down and easing into the chair beside the flower.
- A year after becoming a Jinchuuriki –
On the far outskirts of Earth Country, Ryu had been sent to a village that had become covered in briars within the span of two days. By all reports, there was no movement in the village and no one had contacted Iwa for assistance; but the incident needed to be investigated regardless. It was a two day run in a caravan train, but sending a single person ahead of time would allow for a perimeter to be cordoned off and the initial investigation started; why they had sent Ryu for that detail, the man wouldn’t ever know. He was hardly the fastest they could have picked but he got there a full day ahead of the rest of the crew.
The reports had said that the village was covered in briars, but it hardly captured the full spectrum of havoc that had been wrought on this place. Vines as thick as his leg had torn through buildings with wickedly pointed thorns longer than his arm impaling furniture and debris; but while that was a sight to behold, he saw no bodies or remains of the people who’d lived here. Pulling out the public survey of this place and flipping through, he noted that the last known population had been nearing 100; no one had come forward as a refugee and any other detail regarding this place had been unknown beyond the fact that a man from a neighboring village had reported the sight on his way by. ”Hrng.”
He wanted to scowl, but that would be unprofessional, he settled for a mask of dour neutrality instead and got to work, setting up posts and unrolling the cordon tape around the entire village. He was no chakra sensor, but his eyes were pretty damn good when it came to marking down the details. As he stood examining the site once the village had been cordoned, he noted that the directionality was going away from the center of the village as though the vines had exploded from a point there. Whole houses were ripped asunder in some spots where more than one of the massive spine bearing vegetation had slammed through; which meant he was going to have to work his way to the center of the village.
Ryu really didn’t know much about the vines, but he took a scraping from one of the nearest tips and dropped it into a solution to try to find any of the common poisons that some of the fauna around the country bore but turned up nothing; he was no medic or botanist so turning up nothing on a general test was good enough for him. Having stalled long enough, the towering man picked his way carefully through the massive briars making small markings in the thorns as he passed with a kunai; the journey would have been somewhat easier if the left arm he’d received from the creature a year back would stop with the burning tingle sensation where it met his shoulder but Ryu did his best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation and pressed onward.
As he waded further into the press of vegetation, the wall of thorns got thicker woven tighter together with thorns closer together than on the outskirts; he found himself hacking through one or two of the things to make a path when no other way showed to be a path of least resistance. After maybe two hours, he broke through a particularly dense weave of the briars where thorns were interlocked and only a finger’s breadth apart from one another and stood in a ring no more than ten feet in diameter where an old man dressed as a shaman sat next to a thistle flower with a blood red bulb in full bloom and dripping with a translucent red nectar dripping from the petals.
“Greetings, young man.” The shaman smiled wearily at him, the voice carrying not only age but a heavy sorrow. Ryu had just stumbled onto a witness and possible victim of the events here. No, he wasn’t a possible victim, Ryu saw a weave of smaller briars wrapped around the man’s crossed legs and reaching up his waist. “Forgive me if I do not rise to greet you, I’ve been snared by this evil while trying to contain the spread.” He coughed and winced at the motion, fresh blood welling up where thorns bit into withered flesh and the flower seemed to throb as the briars reached further upwards until they were cloaking his chest and the man held still once more.
Ryu stepped carefully and started reaching for the thorns. “No! Don’t touch them! You’ll share my fate if you do!” The panic in the shaman’s eyes made Ryu halt in his tracks and his violet-blue eyes narrowed as he followed the criss-cross of vines back to the ground; they were sprouting up nearly a foot from the flower in a ring of what could possibly be stones of piles of dirt. ”How did this come to pass, shaman?” Asking what happened would have been a stupid question, and very obviously answered. The flower caused this, but HOW was the greatest question and once that was solved the why was to follow next.
The trapped man took a careful breath and looked at the flower. “It is an evil thing. A red thistle, or a Blood Rose, is sign of ill fate to come. This fell plant sprouted from the soil there a week ago now; tradition says that the one who is able to pluck the flower from the soil will gain a great strength, but to do so one must suffer the pain of the stem as the thorns on it are the fangs of evil. It always draws the blood of those it touches.” The man shivered slightly as he suppressed a cough that would have the briars crawling higher. “I was to bear witness as our blacksmith, the strongest man in the village, pulled the flower from the earth. But as he pulled, his face became one wracked with pain and terror before these cursed thorns took them.” His eyes went to the bulges beneath the vines as tears welled up from his eyes.
Ryu took a breath and blew it out. Those weren’t rocks or dirt. He looked around the small clearing and saw many lumps large and small, some towering up to six feet, and others at an angle. By the Five, they were all dead. ”I’m sorry for your loss, Shaman.” He knelt and looked at the flower, eyes taking in the detail of the leafy petals and the bulb that had splayed open, the silky petals red layered together and did look quite like a rose, but the thorns covering the surface beneath that gorgeous plant flesh was indeed coated in needle looking thorns half the length of his pinky all the way down to the earth. “Young man, do not attempt to pull the flower. The demon will take you the moment you show pain and you’ll join them in the deathly cage of her embrace. Please.” The shaman was pale, looing blood and he wouldn’t last until the investigation squad got here.
Chewing on the inside of his lip, the flower was the root of this, and if he could manage to help the shaman they would have a witness to explain that this was something out of control of the people here. There would be closure for the dead. He said nothing but wrapped his large hand around the stem and pulled, there was a loud snapping noise as though a line were being drawn suddenly tight and vines as thick as his fingers were suddenly lashed around his arm up to his shoulder and the thorns dug deep into his flesh. He ignored them and kept pulling, his muscles cording and his jaw set in stubborn determination.
So another fool comes to try to end my life. A woman’s voice came from in front of him, as he blinked, he was no longer holding the stem of a flower but a woman’s hand that was dainty in his massive grip, the texture of her skin was supple silk, but he felt the bite of her fingernails in the palm of his hand deep enough to draw blood. His gaze followed the arm up to a woman who stood across from him, her face set in defiance and determination just as much as his own features. Her eyes were a russet red-orange, the same color as her hair and wore a lush green dress that covered healthy, feminine curves. Her skin was unbroken and lent her a healthy glow but for the straining muscles of her arm and legs as she tried pulling away from him. You’ll give in to pain, just as the first oaf did. And all the others when they attempted to remove him from my grip. I will not be plucked by the likes of you, mortal!
Ryu thought that the old man was being figurative when he said demon, apparently there really was something to that claim now. The woman gave a husky laugh of disbelief. That meat sack that calls himself a shaman would call me a demon. You mortals couldn’t tell a spirit from a demon even with the help of the Gods themselves.
Oh by all the Five, she was reading his mind. Her mouth curved into a mocking smirk and tried to surge backwards and caused Ryu to plant his own feet, grinding into the ground and causing it to splinter as his entire body snapped taught. Yes, oaf, I can see your mind. Any spirit can when you commune with them, we need no words to express ourselves your diminutive life would be shattered any other way though.
Pretty cocky for a little girl, he’d been through worse. At the mere flicker of a thought, the battle with the molten creature in the cavern came roaring back in full; every scent, sight, and feeling as though he were reliving it all over again. The memory stunned them both for a moment as the demonic left arm began to burn and tingle at the shoulder once more he snapped into focus and pulled the woman’s hand towards him, there was a tearing noise and she shrieked at him, though her mouth never moved beyond a ferocious snarl. You know pain well! But you will not take me! Her body went taught and her nails dug deeper into his flesh. So you know a little pain! Do you know the hardship it takes to grow?! To flourish and find yourself going to be torn from life by someone else’s whim? NO!
This pain was nothing. He could bear it. He’d lived through what should have killed him several times over, he could pull a plant that wanted to tear his arm off. The spirit’s face became a blank mask, but the tension of her body still pulled just as strongly against him. I see. You’re a man that holds an ocean of determination. But what is it for? You’re just a selfish child in a man’s body. You and every other mortal. You attempt to defy something right up until the moment it defeats you and then you beg, cry, and soil yourself wanting mercy and forgiveness. Oh, did it look like he was about to start crying? Maybe there was a fleck of dust in his eye. After this maybe he’d wash up and take a nice nap too.
The fury in her face returned and her efforts redoubled. You dare to MOCK me! Ryu felt her nails, the thorns, grind through his flesh and all the way to the bone; sending an agonizing sensation all the way up his arm and right to his spine. He set his feet and twisted away from her with all his might, jaw set tight and his violet-blue eyes blazing with determination. He would do this, he’d committed to the effort and he wouldn’t fail! He’d never fail again!
NEVER AGAIN! His memories slammed forward, a day of sorrow that he could do nothing to save an entire class from falling to their death, the failure of being unable to help his father from passing so early; those were times when he could truly do nothing, when he was helpless and powers beyond his control were at work. This? Pulling a simple. Fucking. Plant. He could do this and he’d bear the pain to do it if it meant he could give peace and rest to the villagers. The spirit was forced to watch the memories carved into his spirit, into his indomitable soul. He’d never give up, he would bear this pain and more for the people he was sworn to protect even if he didn’t know them; he’d do even more for those he did care for. Ryu’s calm, stoic mask broke and he snarled right back at the spirit in defiance! The spirit reeled as though she’d been slapped across the face, tears the same color as the nectar of the flower welling up in her eyes. Please. No, I don’t want to die.
Whoa. She wasn’t faking to get him to slip up. He could feel it through their connection, he would be snuffing the life of a spirit bound to this flower if he pulled it up. A bit slow, yes? You didn’t think I’d be willing to fight so hard just for the fun of it do you. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Ryu tried to think furiously while not letting up the tension, but he stopped pulling her closer to him. It made sense, just as he had invaded the molten creature’s home and destroyed it, he was doing the same now. He really was just a lumbering oaf. But he had committed to this, by his own code of honor and everything he was he would follow through and finish what he started. There had to be a way that he wouldn’t destroy her.
Studying him, the nectar flowing down the round cheeks to her delicate chin, she looked at him dubiously. Surely you jest. You knowingly try to rip my life away while mocking me with thoughts of saving me? You’re the most cruel mortal I’ve ever met. Nah, he was just some bumbling oaf. All mortals were like this, remember? She barked a short laugh and shook her head, the russet waves bouncing behind her. What could you possibly do to sustain me? Put me in a pot?
Hey, actually, good idea. The wisdom of a spirit really knew no bounds. What?! No! No, don’t you dare! I’d r- Shut up. He ignored her, closed his eyes and cut her off, he was sick of talking, sick of just standing there. He had one hand wrapped around the flower stem, he knew he did, he could feel the vines in his arm and they had spread along his back and chest. If he could just get his left arm to move!
It jerked and twitched then burst into action, flinging wide from his body and incinerating the bandages and sleeve he’d hidden it in revealing the solid, flat grey of the scales and gleaming obsidian of the spines and talons. As the flames died down he opened his eyes again and stared at the flower, there was no spirit now, just the small dainty flower dribbling nectar down into the wounds on his hands. ”Forgive me.” He felt as though he hadn’t spoken for ages with how dry his throat was, his voice normally smooth and sturdy cracked faintly. With effort, he made the demonic left arm plunge into the soil beneath the flower, talons biting deep into the dry earth as though it were wet clay, and scooping out a massive pile of dirt and all of the flower’s roots.
Just as quickly as they came, the digging into his arm vanished but the injuries left behind were real. The massive briars covering the village vanished as well, dropping debris with a thunderous clatter, revealing the withered corpses of the dead, and freeing the shaman who sat on the ground and sagged to the side in exhaustion. You really meant it. He could hear the voice again, but he saw no apparition of the spirit as he had before. He thought he’d severed the connection between them and stopped the communion though, his brows knit together in confusion as he held the plant closer to his body. You silenced me by closing your mind, and turned your eyes away from me. But we are still connected, my blood flowing into yours. You feed me yet with your life being drawn into my roots. Gruesome, but that would work. His eyes swept around but couldn’t find a pot to put her in, he adjusted his grip and set the clod of dirt on his raised knee while he tore his belt pouch off with his left hand and emptied it out onto the ground before shoving as much of the clod into it as he could and left the flower sticking up from it. So demeaning…this is an embarrassment that I shall never forget. Yeah, well, better than being dead right? To this thought, the spirit had nothing to reply with.
After he set the pouch on a pile of rubble and making sure that it wouldn’t fall or be able to reach the ground below, he started to take his hand from the stem of the flower. Wait! His hand jerked and pulled tighter around the stem, but not of his own choice. ”Let. Go.” He growled out loud at the flower and his hand, narrowing his eyes. In due time. I see that you could have taken the easier path. You could have simply burned the flower, or cut it to shreds. Instead, you used your flesh instead of your spirit, subjected yourself to the bite of my thorns that no other mortal I’ve encountered was willing to bear. Why? Wasn’t it obvious? She could read his thoughts and see all of his pathetically short life. Shouldn’t a spirit be wise and all knowing? He got the sense that the spirit was sneering at him Humor me.
Ryu squinted at the flower for a moment, the trickle of nectar had stopped, but there was still a copious amount still around his hand. ”I guess…I did it for the one who wished the strength to be a man better at his craft. Didn’t think about it much.” He sighed and looked away from the flower at the corpse that had been nearest to the flower, a man who wasn’t quite as tall as Ryu was wilted and mummified from the sapping briars. In life he’d have been of average build but nothing spectacular. I see. You did pull me from the ground, in your own way. You’ll have my gift, mortal. What is your name?
He would like to get to work on arranging the dead to be buried and help the shaman who was sitting up and rubbing a salve over the injuries gained from the briars. ”I’m giving my name. To a flower.” Really? No mere flower, my name is Shinku. I would know the name of the mortal to curse and bless as he grows old. Man this flower was chatty. The thought as he rolled his eyes gave him the sense that the spirit was smirking at him. ”Kazehi Ryu of Iwagakure.”
There was a sort of crackling tension crawling up his arm. As a flower grows and endures with the blessed light of the sun, so too shall you. Life granted to me as a spirit of toil and hardship, the sun giving my vessel the strength to rise and support my strength. May you too know this strength, this curse of pain and hardship; bear it well mortal just as you now do my vessel. Ryu’s back arched and a spike of agony much worse than he’d felt before lanced him between his shoulder blades, digging at his skin as though all the thorns he’d felt before were focusing on one spot and trying to drive entirely through his body. He grunted in surprise and snarled, getting ready to smash the flower with his left hand but as quickly as it had come, the pain dulled to a throb, leaving him panting and shuddering. He couldn’t sense the spirit any more, and all the nectar that had been on his hand was gone the flesh of his hand and arm whole beneath the punctured silk of his kimono. Strange, he could contemplate it later.
Ryu actually felt invigorated, felt the beaming sun on his skin and it put him in a good mood despite the death he was standing in and organizing. He didn’t move the bodies, but he put notes down beside the bodies as he used the survey and shaman to help him identify the dead. Ninety-nine people dead. It was a mess no matter the conclusion. At the end of the day, he sat in his small camp outside the cordon, the shaman not far away sleeping, but fitfully twitching, likely having nightmares about the harrowing ordeal; Ryu contemplated the flower stuffed into his belt pouch. No one was going to believe him, or the shaman for that matter. He sighed, poured some water into the soil around the flower, careful not to touch the thorns again while doing so. Once the earth was damp around the plant, healthily saturated, it seemed to bow to him though there wasn’t a breeze stirring any air.
The reports he was going to have to write, he felt like he should just go write some fiction; maybe that would be better received…
- - -
Ryu took his eyes from the plant with a sigh. It was a memory that made the space between his shoulder blades itch; he had reported that a gas deposit had exploded, killing the villagers and leveling their homes. It was received with suspicious leers and questions about these reported briars which Ryu refuted with the claims that mirages happen in moments of intense heat and the difference in the air with the debris and wreckage should easily have been seen as massive briars. It was acceptable, a more explainable resolution than “a possessed flower did it”. They were shinobi, but really? He wanted to keep his job, not be examined for drugs or mental instability. Even the shaman went along with the story, claiming to have been gathering herbs outside the village and had only just returned the day Ryu had shown up.
He didn’t like it, but the folk of the village got a good burial at least. He’d taken the flower with him when he’d returned home despite the strange looks his fellows gave him, but the Blood Rose was still in full bloom so they couldn’t blame him for taking such a rare beauty home to treasure and lighten the dark work they had come to do. It was ritual for him, water the plant nightly and every so often he would sit and remember the spirit, trying to puzzle out the meaning and her “cursed gift” that she had supposedly granted him. As he stood, the plant shifted, leaves swaying and the bulb rocking back and forth slightly before a dribble of the clear, orange-red nectar seeped out the top of the bulb. ”Yeah. That day was pretty sad, but it turned out alright in the end I guess.” maybe he was cracked, there was a creature sharing his body and he was standing here talking to a flower. He shook his head and laughed at himself. ”Good night.” He picked up the watering pail and quietly exited the room, pausing a moment at the door to look back at the flower before closing it behind him.
Though he couldn’t see her, where the flower sat, the dangerously beautiful spirit was leaning comfortably against the sill, comfortable in her spot while she watched the man leave. She smiled at him and once he was gone looked up at the sky on the other side of the glass. Sleep well…Kazehi Ryu. The stars were simply beautiful tonight.
[WC-4503]
[Topic Entered/Topic left]
{30 Minute Run time}
It had been a couple days since he spoke with Tayu Kiyoshi when the man had swayed the decision for Ryu to start mastering the beast and showing his arm with pride. It was no easy feat after two years of habitual motions, he always found himself picking up the file just before trying to get some rest and staring at it for moments before putting it back down. In those few days, he’d gone through two bed rolls and three blankets, finding the shredded cloth and fluffy material stuck to the spines and talons here and there. Irritation made him wrap the damn limb up before going to bed but he left it uncovered during the days at least.
Just before he settled down, he picked up a small watering pail that he filled every morning and kept by his door, and stepped through the halls in his home to a small back room that contained a large bay window; the only furniture in it was an aged rocking chair that was settled next to a thistle plant with a scarlet red bulb that was in full bloom despite the season.
Careful not to touch the thorns of the plant, the towering man gently poured water over the stem for a moment, letting the soil soak in the moisture before adding a little bit more. The flower shifted slightly as though being bowed towards him by a slight breeze even though no air stirred the room; he bowed his head in response, setting the watering pail down and easing into the chair beside the flower.
- A year after becoming a Jinchuuriki –
On the far outskirts of Earth Country, Ryu had been sent to a village that had become covered in briars within the span of two days. By all reports, there was no movement in the village and no one had contacted Iwa for assistance; but the incident needed to be investigated regardless. It was a two day run in a caravan train, but sending a single person ahead of time would allow for a perimeter to be cordoned off and the initial investigation started; why they had sent Ryu for that detail, the man wouldn’t ever know. He was hardly the fastest they could have picked but he got there a full day ahead of the rest of the crew.
The reports had said that the village was covered in briars, but it hardly captured the full spectrum of havoc that had been wrought on this place. Vines as thick as his leg had torn through buildings with wickedly pointed thorns longer than his arm impaling furniture and debris; but while that was a sight to behold, he saw no bodies or remains of the people who’d lived here. Pulling out the public survey of this place and flipping through, he noted that the last known population had been nearing 100; no one had come forward as a refugee and any other detail regarding this place had been unknown beyond the fact that a man from a neighboring village had reported the sight on his way by. ”Hrng.”
He wanted to scowl, but that would be unprofessional, he settled for a mask of dour neutrality instead and got to work, setting up posts and unrolling the cordon tape around the entire village. He was no chakra sensor, but his eyes were pretty damn good when it came to marking down the details. As he stood examining the site once the village had been cordoned, he noted that the directionality was going away from the center of the village as though the vines had exploded from a point there. Whole houses were ripped asunder in some spots where more than one of the massive spine bearing vegetation had slammed through; which meant he was going to have to work his way to the center of the village.
Ryu really didn’t know much about the vines, but he took a scraping from one of the nearest tips and dropped it into a solution to try to find any of the common poisons that some of the fauna around the country bore but turned up nothing; he was no medic or botanist so turning up nothing on a general test was good enough for him. Having stalled long enough, the towering man picked his way carefully through the massive briars making small markings in the thorns as he passed with a kunai; the journey would have been somewhat easier if the left arm he’d received from the creature a year back would stop with the burning tingle sensation where it met his shoulder but Ryu did his best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation and pressed onward.
As he waded further into the press of vegetation, the wall of thorns got thicker woven tighter together with thorns closer together than on the outskirts; he found himself hacking through one or two of the things to make a path when no other way showed to be a path of least resistance. After maybe two hours, he broke through a particularly dense weave of the briars where thorns were interlocked and only a finger’s breadth apart from one another and stood in a ring no more than ten feet in diameter where an old man dressed as a shaman sat next to a thistle flower with a blood red bulb in full bloom and dripping with a translucent red nectar dripping from the petals.
“Greetings, young man.” The shaman smiled wearily at him, the voice carrying not only age but a heavy sorrow. Ryu had just stumbled onto a witness and possible victim of the events here. No, he wasn’t a possible victim, Ryu saw a weave of smaller briars wrapped around the man’s crossed legs and reaching up his waist. “Forgive me if I do not rise to greet you, I’ve been snared by this evil while trying to contain the spread.” He coughed and winced at the motion, fresh blood welling up where thorns bit into withered flesh and the flower seemed to throb as the briars reached further upwards until they were cloaking his chest and the man held still once more.
Ryu stepped carefully and started reaching for the thorns. “No! Don’t touch them! You’ll share my fate if you do!” The panic in the shaman’s eyes made Ryu halt in his tracks and his violet-blue eyes narrowed as he followed the criss-cross of vines back to the ground; they were sprouting up nearly a foot from the flower in a ring of what could possibly be stones of piles of dirt. ”How did this come to pass, shaman?” Asking what happened would have been a stupid question, and very obviously answered. The flower caused this, but HOW was the greatest question and once that was solved the why was to follow next.
The trapped man took a careful breath and looked at the flower. “It is an evil thing. A red thistle, or a Blood Rose, is sign of ill fate to come. This fell plant sprouted from the soil there a week ago now; tradition says that the one who is able to pluck the flower from the soil will gain a great strength, but to do so one must suffer the pain of the stem as the thorns on it are the fangs of evil. It always draws the blood of those it touches.” The man shivered slightly as he suppressed a cough that would have the briars crawling higher. “I was to bear witness as our blacksmith, the strongest man in the village, pulled the flower from the earth. But as he pulled, his face became one wracked with pain and terror before these cursed thorns took them.” His eyes went to the bulges beneath the vines as tears welled up from his eyes.
Ryu took a breath and blew it out. Those weren’t rocks or dirt. He looked around the small clearing and saw many lumps large and small, some towering up to six feet, and others at an angle. By the Five, they were all dead. ”I’m sorry for your loss, Shaman.” He knelt and looked at the flower, eyes taking in the detail of the leafy petals and the bulb that had splayed open, the silky petals red layered together and did look quite like a rose, but the thorns covering the surface beneath that gorgeous plant flesh was indeed coated in needle looking thorns half the length of his pinky all the way down to the earth. “Young man, do not attempt to pull the flower. The demon will take you the moment you show pain and you’ll join them in the deathly cage of her embrace. Please.” The shaman was pale, looing blood and he wouldn’t last until the investigation squad got here.
Chewing on the inside of his lip, the flower was the root of this, and if he could manage to help the shaman they would have a witness to explain that this was something out of control of the people here. There would be closure for the dead. He said nothing but wrapped his large hand around the stem and pulled, there was a loud snapping noise as though a line were being drawn suddenly tight and vines as thick as his fingers were suddenly lashed around his arm up to his shoulder and the thorns dug deep into his flesh. He ignored them and kept pulling, his muscles cording and his jaw set in stubborn determination.
So another fool comes to try to end my life. A woman’s voice came from in front of him, as he blinked, he was no longer holding the stem of a flower but a woman’s hand that was dainty in his massive grip, the texture of her skin was supple silk, but he felt the bite of her fingernails in the palm of his hand deep enough to draw blood. His gaze followed the arm up to a woman who stood across from him, her face set in defiance and determination just as much as his own features. Her eyes were a russet red-orange, the same color as her hair and wore a lush green dress that covered healthy, feminine curves. Her skin was unbroken and lent her a healthy glow but for the straining muscles of her arm and legs as she tried pulling away from him. You’ll give in to pain, just as the first oaf did. And all the others when they attempted to remove him from my grip. I will not be plucked by the likes of you, mortal!
Ryu thought that the old man was being figurative when he said demon, apparently there really was something to that claim now. The woman gave a husky laugh of disbelief. That meat sack that calls himself a shaman would call me a demon. You mortals couldn’t tell a spirit from a demon even with the help of the Gods themselves.
Oh by all the Five, she was reading his mind. Her mouth curved into a mocking smirk and tried to surge backwards and caused Ryu to plant his own feet, grinding into the ground and causing it to splinter as his entire body snapped taught. Yes, oaf, I can see your mind. Any spirit can when you commune with them, we need no words to express ourselves your diminutive life would be shattered any other way though.
Pretty cocky for a little girl, he’d been through worse. At the mere flicker of a thought, the battle with the molten creature in the cavern came roaring back in full; every scent, sight, and feeling as though he were reliving it all over again. The memory stunned them both for a moment as the demonic left arm began to burn and tingle at the shoulder once more he snapped into focus and pulled the woman’s hand towards him, there was a tearing noise and she shrieked at him, though her mouth never moved beyond a ferocious snarl. You know pain well! But you will not take me! Her body went taught and her nails dug deeper into his flesh. So you know a little pain! Do you know the hardship it takes to grow?! To flourish and find yourself going to be torn from life by someone else’s whim? NO!
This pain was nothing. He could bear it. He’d lived through what should have killed him several times over, he could pull a plant that wanted to tear his arm off. The spirit’s face became a blank mask, but the tension of her body still pulled just as strongly against him. I see. You’re a man that holds an ocean of determination. But what is it for? You’re just a selfish child in a man’s body. You and every other mortal. You attempt to defy something right up until the moment it defeats you and then you beg, cry, and soil yourself wanting mercy and forgiveness. Oh, did it look like he was about to start crying? Maybe there was a fleck of dust in his eye. After this maybe he’d wash up and take a nice nap too.
The fury in her face returned and her efforts redoubled. You dare to MOCK me! Ryu felt her nails, the thorns, grind through his flesh and all the way to the bone; sending an agonizing sensation all the way up his arm and right to his spine. He set his feet and twisted away from her with all his might, jaw set tight and his violet-blue eyes blazing with determination. He would do this, he’d committed to the effort and he wouldn’t fail! He’d never fail again!
NEVER AGAIN! His memories slammed forward, a day of sorrow that he could do nothing to save an entire class from falling to their death, the failure of being unable to help his father from passing so early; those were times when he could truly do nothing, when he was helpless and powers beyond his control were at work. This? Pulling a simple. Fucking. Plant. He could do this and he’d bear the pain to do it if it meant he could give peace and rest to the villagers. The spirit was forced to watch the memories carved into his spirit, into his indomitable soul. He’d never give up, he would bear this pain and more for the people he was sworn to protect even if he didn’t know them; he’d do even more for those he did care for. Ryu’s calm, stoic mask broke and he snarled right back at the spirit in defiance! The spirit reeled as though she’d been slapped across the face, tears the same color as the nectar of the flower welling up in her eyes. Please. No, I don’t want to die.
Whoa. She wasn’t faking to get him to slip up. He could feel it through their connection, he would be snuffing the life of a spirit bound to this flower if he pulled it up. A bit slow, yes? You didn’t think I’d be willing to fight so hard just for the fun of it do you. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Ryu tried to think furiously while not letting up the tension, but he stopped pulling her closer to him. It made sense, just as he had invaded the molten creature’s home and destroyed it, he was doing the same now. He really was just a lumbering oaf. But he had committed to this, by his own code of honor and everything he was he would follow through and finish what he started. There had to be a way that he wouldn’t destroy her.
Studying him, the nectar flowing down the round cheeks to her delicate chin, she looked at him dubiously. Surely you jest. You knowingly try to rip my life away while mocking me with thoughts of saving me? You’re the most cruel mortal I’ve ever met. Nah, he was just some bumbling oaf. All mortals were like this, remember? She barked a short laugh and shook her head, the russet waves bouncing behind her. What could you possibly do to sustain me? Put me in a pot?
Hey, actually, good idea. The wisdom of a spirit really knew no bounds. What?! No! No, don’t you dare! I’d r- Shut up. He ignored her, closed his eyes and cut her off, he was sick of talking, sick of just standing there. He had one hand wrapped around the flower stem, he knew he did, he could feel the vines in his arm and they had spread along his back and chest. If he could just get his left arm to move!
It jerked and twitched then burst into action, flinging wide from his body and incinerating the bandages and sleeve he’d hidden it in revealing the solid, flat grey of the scales and gleaming obsidian of the spines and talons. As the flames died down he opened his eyes again and stared at the flower, there was no spirit now, just the small dainty flower dribbling nectar down into the wounds on his hands. ”Forgive me.” He felt as though he hadn’t spoken for ages with how dry his throat was, his voice normally smooth and sturdy cracked faintly. With effort, he made the demonic left arm plunge into the soil beneath the flower, talons biting deep into the dry earth as though it were wet clay, and scooping out a massive pile of dirt and all of the flower’s roots.
Just as quickly as they came, the digging into his arm vanished but the injuries left behind were real. The massive briars covering the village vanished as well, dropping debris with a thunderous clatter, revealing the withered corpses of the dead, and freeing the shaman who sat on the ground and sagged to the side in exhaustion. You really meant it. He could hear the voice again, but he saw no apparition of the spirit as he had before. He thought he’d severed the connection between them and stopped the communion though, his brows knit together in confusion as he held the plant closer to his body. You silenced me by closing your mind, and turned your eyes away from me. But we are still connected, my blood flowing into yours. You feed me yet with your life being drawn into my roots. Gruesome, but that would work. His eyes swept around but couldn’t find a pot to put her in, he adjusted his grip and set the clod of dirt on his raised knee while he tore his belt pouch off with his left hand and emptied it out onto the ground before shoving as much of the clod into it as he could and left the flower sticking up from it. So demeaning…this is an embarrassment that I shall never forget. Yeah, well, better than being dead right? To this thought, the spirit had nothing to reply with.
After he set the pouch on a pile of rubble and making sure that it wouldn’t fall or be able to reach the ground below, he started to take his hand from the stem of the flower. Wait! His hand jerked and pulled tighter around the stem, but not of his own choice. ”Let. Go.” He growled out loud at the flower and his hand, narrowing his eyes. In due time. I see that you could have taken the easier path. You could have simply burned the flower, or cut it to shreds. Instead, you used your flesh instead of your spirit, subjected yourself to the bite of my thorns that no other mortal I’ve encountered was willing to bear. Why? Wasn’t it obvious? She could read his thoughts and see all of his pathetically short life. Shouldn’t a spirit be wise and all knowing? He got the sense that the spirit was sneering at him Humor me.
Ryu squinted at the flower for a moment, the trickle of nectar had stopped, but there was still a copious amount still around his hand. ”I guess…I did it for the one who wished the strength to be a man better at his craft. Didn’t think about it much.” He sighed and looked away from the flower at the corpse that had been nearest to the flower, a man who wasn’t quite as tall as Ryu was wilted and mummified from the sapping briars. In life he’d have been of average build but nothing spectacular. I see. You did pull me from the ground, in your own way. You’ll have my gift, mortal. What is your name?
He would like to get to work on arranging the dead to be buried and help the shaman who was sitting up and rubbing a salve over the injuries gained from the briars. ”I’m giving my name. To a flower.” Really? No mere flower, my name is Shinku. I would know the name of the mortal to curse and bless as he grows old. Man this flower was chatty. The thought as he rolled his eyes gave him the sense that the spirit was smirking at him. ”Kazehi Ryu of Iwagakure.”
There was a sort of crackling tension crawling up his arm. As a flower grows and endures with the blessed light of the sun, so too shall you. Life granted to me as a spirit of toil and hardship, the sun giving my vessel the strength to rise and support my strength. May you too know this strength, this curse of pain and hardship; bear it well mortal just as you now do my vessel. Ryu’s back arched and a spike of agony much worse than he’d felt before lanced him between his shoulder blades, digging at his skin as though all the thorns he’d felt before were focusing on one spot and trying to drive entirely through his body. He grunted in surprise and snarled, getting ready to smash the flower with his left hand but as quickly as it had come, the pain dulled to a throb, leaving him panting and shuddering. He couldn’t sense the spirit any more, and all the nectar that had been on his hand was gone the flesh of his hand and arm whole beneath the punctured silk of his kimono. Strange, he could contemplate it later.
Ryu actually felt invigorated, felt the beaming sun on his skin and it put him in a good mood despite the death he was standing in and organizing. He didn’t move the bodies, but he put notes down beside the bodies as he used the survey and shaman to help him identify the dead. Ninety-nine people dead. It was a mess no matter the conclusion. At the end of the day, he sat in his small camp outside the cordon, the shaman not far away sleeping, but fitfully twitching, likely having nightmares about the harrowing ordeal; Ryu contemplated the flower stuffed into his belt pouch. No one was going to believe him, or the shaman for that matter. He sighed, poured some water into the soil around the flower, careful not to touch the thorns again while doing so. Once the earth was damp around the plant, healthily saturated, it seemed to bow to him though there wasn’t a breeze stirring any air.
The reports he was going to have to write, he felt like he should just go write some fiction; maybe that would be better received…
- - -
Ryu took his eyes from the plant with a sigh. It was a memory that made the space between his shoulder blades itch; he had reported that a gas deposit had exploded, killing the villagers and leveling their homes. It was received with suspicious leers and questions about these reported briars which Ryu refuted with the claims that mirages happen in moments of intense heat and the difference in the air with the debris and wreckage should easily have been seen as massive briars. It was acceptable, a more explainable resolution than “a possessed flower did it”. They were shinobi, but really? He wanted to keep his job, not be examined for drugs or mental instability. Even the shaman went along with the story, claiming to have been gathering herbs outside the village and had only just returned the day Ryu had shown up.
He didn’t like it, but the folk of the village got a good burial at least. He’d taken the flower with him when he’d returned home despite the strange looks his fellows gave him, but the Blood Rose was still in full bloom so they couldn’t blame him for taking such a rare beauty home to treasure and lighten the dark work they had come to do. It was ritual for him, water the plant nightly and every so often he would sit and remember the spirit, trying to puzzle out the meaning and her “cursed gift” that she had supposedly granted him. As he stood, the plant shifted, leaves swaying and the bulb rocking back and forth slightly before a dribble of the clear, orange-red nectar seeped out the top of the bulb. ”Yeah. That day was pretty sad, but it turned out alright in the end I guess.” maybe he was cracked, there was a creature sharing his body and he was standing here talking to a flower. He shook his head and laughed at himself. ”Good night.” He picked up the watering pail and quietly exited the room, pausing a moment at the door to look back at the flower before closing it behind him.
Though he couldn’t see her, where the flower sat, the dangerously beautiful spirit was leaning comfortably against the sill, comfortable in her spot while she watched the man leave. She smiled at him and once he was gone looked up at the sky on the other side of the glass. Sleep well…Kazehi Ryu. The stars were simply beautiful tonight.
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