I woke up this morning. Not too unexpected as that did happen most days. The ceiling was the first thing I distinguished as my eyes came into focus. I questioned if I should’ve anticipated anything else to be up there besides the dried paint, placating my mind for a moment with a barrage of stupid questions as I stared at the ceiling in an idle mindlessness. I finally sighed in defeat after another minute or so of the internal banter. I needed to face the elephant in the room. I was not willing to get out of bed with the knowledge of what awaited me when I did eventually do. I had been postponing this day for three months now, and today was the deadline. I thought about ignoring it, play it off to do some other time, but that notion was just doltish. I was gonna have to this anyway at some point. Why wait when it might be harder with all the construction done? I reasoned, trying to motivate myself. It was a stupid thought to placate my own discomfort in this and I knew it. My personal code wouldn’t let me act like a spineless weakling anyway.
It’s to become a better shinobi I hummed in mantra to myself as I finally got out of bed and into a clean set of clothing and footwear. I got my normal combat supplies along with the gathering of unique supplies I was told to use for this ceremony from next to my bed. I was careful about jamming it all into my backpack as compactly as I could, noting to deposit the paper as close to the top of the bag as possible to ensure it stayed pristine. Once the whole loading exercise was over, I hung the backpack on my shoulder and holstering my spear in place behind my cloak. Looking myself once over in the mirror, I made sure to seem presentable before locking up the apartment I rented for the week and heading out to the ghettos of Raiden's eye, the city of millions.
It took me roughly a couple days travel to even get here from Kumo. By the time I had reached the outer wards of slums, it was already high noon. The actual summoning ritual wouldn’t be for another nine hours when most of the area began to quiet down. It wasn’t like I needed to do it at midnight or something crazy like that. Besides, I happened to like the number nine. Though I concluded that was most likely because my birthday happened to be in the ninth month of the year. It also happened to be the one day a year those two weren’t complete garbage to me. Though that wasn’t always true… I caught myself going down a thread I did not want to slip into. That crap needed to stay buried so I could enjoy my birthdays just like the last two.
Anyway, the leeway of hours would give me plenty of time to get situated, though I questioned how early I wanted to be at the location for the summoning. I had not been back to the site of the explosion that took my arm, my old home that had burned to the ground, for almost two years now. I tried to come down here a couple months ago but chickened out and decided not go all the way to the apartments. This time, however, I needed to get this project done. I decided ultimately that I might as well eat a good meal and wait it out until about six before I headed over there. I had heard that there was new construction going on and the construction crew was going to tear down the apartments at some point. I figured as long as it was physically the same location as my old home, it'd have the same effect I was looking for, but it'd become a bit harder if people started living there when I began the summoning. If I wanted to use that horrid place as a summoning point, it needed to be now.
When six o'clock rolled around, I left the small restaurant I had been keeping myself busy by relaxing and getting my mind set straight for tonight. I hadn’t passed these streets in almost two years and I remembered why I had always disliked them. They were uneven, cracked and potholed to oblivion, but worst of all was that most of all the buildings here were either abandoned or still filled with junkies. Some of them I’m sure have already offed themselves from overdosing I admonished to myself, bringing my mood down slightly with the reminder.
When I asked an old neighborhood contact I used to know while heading down the road towards the building about the progress the construction crew, he greeted me at first, looking a bit chagrined to see me alive, before questioning where I’d been and other such mundane queries. I brushed the interrogation off easily enough before getting a straight answer from him that the apartments were going to be getting demolished completely, but something kept happening to the workers. Small things here and there going amiss. Light bulbs burning out violently all at the same time even when they were in the off state. stuff like that. Then one worker was crushed by a broken wall they assumed had been stable moments before. Killed him as his lungs collapsed and he couldn’t breathe before help arrived. The construction team was called off after that incident and the project was abandoned by the contractors, citing that the place may be haunted. Seeing as ghosts were both a real and well-known existence, I could only summarize that it was likely real. I cursed myself already guessing, most likely as others already had, as to why the building was haunted. Actually, I could guess ninety-two reasons It could be haunted.
The dread only increased the closer I drew to the destroyed apartment. I don’t think I was or am sensitive to the supernatural, but I could feel the air still and the aura becomes thicker on my back and shoulders as an invisible weight set upon it. I swear, it felt like a very uncomfortable hug behind you from a really creepy uncle and I could not for the life of me dispel it. I didn’t like coming back here as it was, but the thought of the place actually being haunted nearly made me shat myself. I already have those ninety-two- well ninety-three now, with that one worker's death and all, as my own personal demons to contend with. If they actually manifested in death as demons, that’d just be peachy. Likely for me and everyone else was from what I had heard, that there hadn’t been any sighting of them manifesting into life yet, just interacting with the physical world through objects and the building itself. That meant the ghosts at least couldn’t kill me directly yet, and if I was lucky they might even ignore me as I was bound to this place just as they are now and had a right to be here. I grimaced at my second-hand ghost knowledge and their ghostly regulations. I mostly thought it was bull, but I had to believe in it for it to work. So I did just that and gritting my teeth as I approached the corner of the building.
The apartment building looked about as how I expected it to once I rounded the corner and saw it in all its glory. The last two years of rain and weather had deteriorated its open wounds even more than I had expected. It forced it to be even more derelict than the two years absence would’ve suggested. I pondered if ghost infection sped up the rate at which it decayed, then pondered if it did the opposite and slowed it down. After another pause, that thought was brushed by. This was the place I needed to complete this ritual and poltergeists were going to be here whether I liked it or not. There was no point in worrying over spilled milk at this point anyway.
Did I just compare the death of ninety-three people to ‘spilled milk’? God, if there is a hell, I’m going to it, aren’t I? I reflected, shimming up to the front door of the building. I took one final moment to looked up, recalling the shit hole as it used to be and comparing it to how it looked even worse now. I stood there for another minute before sighing in resignation. I was resolved enough to continue on into the dilapidated structure that was probably infested with ghouls, but know that I really, really didn’t want to.
The first floor was definitely the worst spot. It was charred and blown upward from the basement chemical explosion. The support pillars and walls seemed stable enough, but the creaks and moans of the building (and probably a few ghosties), as the wind blew into the holes all over the walls and ceilings made me hesitant to trust much of anything with my weight. I planned to head up to the second floor where my ‘parents’ used to dwell. I refused to call it my own home down to my very core. I only knew it as a prison and the small piece of hell that it was for me. As I walked down the halls, I could really see how much damage the fire had done. Most people likely couldn't have gotten to an exit in this death trap and a few less scortched places on the ground shaped like humans confirmed that thought. I shuttered a bit as I saw those marks on the ground before turning my head forward and keeping my eyes in front of me. I didn't want to think about it.
When I actually got into the old room, I was half reevaluating my statement about it being a small piece of hell, because the room was absolutely trashed and tainted in ash. I always knew it was bad, but the charred remains of the garbage and clutter left all over the room by those who never bothered to move or clean out the room after the fire, really brought out that ‘hell of earth’ sort of vibe. I noticed most of the nice non-flammable objects that were in this shabby apartment from my memory were absent though.
Always scavengers, even when there’s nothing but ash and corpses. I walked over to the center of what used to be the living room, muttering to myself in a complaint as I rolled up my sleeve and got to work cleaning out the immediate area. Once I was happy with the ‘clean enough’ spot in the hoarding fun house, I laid down the summoning paper and began to draw the circle, pulled out a picture copy of how the final summoning circle should look from my bag. I was told that a lot of this process was symbolic. Giving meaning to abstract thoughts in a way the human mind could perceive. It was all hogwash anyway. There was a detailed process to it, but the underlying thought was the one summoning needed to be the one to do the heavy lifting or it was utterly pointless if you expected anything to actually happen. Using someone else would either anger the spirit you summoned or they’ll downright deny you if they show up at all.
I recalled a conversation I had about six months back with one of the Instructors at the academy as I placed the plethora of necessary supplies for the summoning next to the paper. It was brief for the most part, maybe a five-minute conversation in total while in passing, but it was over the necessity of finding a contract with an otherworldly creature as a Shinobi. I was told using a place of great hope or strife was of singular importance in invoking a spirit into presenting itself as they were a fickle bunch to even kings, let alone a small ten-year-old boy.
The fact that this place was chock full of death aura and angry spirits wasn’t unnoticed by me and quite frankly it unsettled me a bit, but I figured that summoning here would either lead to an unpleasant death or an even greater boon. Either was acceptable when playing with dangerous beings like these spirits were said to be, and I was doing so willingly. I had no room to complain if something bad did happen. My death would blow majorly for probably a couple minutes as it was occurring, but it would end at some point and if I was a gambling man, I’d hopefully not lose my soul somewhere in the whole process. I nodded in resolving to myself.
There were some creaks and groans, but it seemed the ghosts were quiet tonight. I was grateful for that as I was almost done with the preparation after another ten minutes of careful brush strokes and incense burning. I was never really a big fan of incense, it always burned my nose a bit, but I was lucky to find some that I did like for once. Smelled of lilac. Definitely helped with the spookiness of the place. When I knew everything was set and ready to go, I decided that I might as well relieve myself before this experience. Since this could also be my last chance, I didn’t want a full bladder going into eternity. I left the center of the living room to go take a piss out the window into the courtyard. All things considered, this place did have a nice view. I judged as I let go into the wind looking at the distant and far-reaching Kumo city. I liked this city if I really reflected on it. Well, this part of Kumo could get fucked by a sennin, but the other parts have been pretty decent.
As I sat back down in seiza position in front of the completed summoning circle. I took in a deep breath and exhaled. Please work, this is a god damn hassle to do! I pleaded with some unknown invisible force before finding my resolve, speaking loudly and clearly in hopes of catching one of the spirit overlord’s attention.
“I summon thy spirit who shall invite me into their domain. I am but a humble existence who wishes to join in thoughts with those who know much and form a lasting bond. Though I am young and small, my stature is grand and stalwart. I urge thee to show thyself so we may commune.”
With the words spoken, I cut my thumb and placed it into the summoning circle. At least half of chakra left me in almost a single moment. Before I had time to even react to the suckage of chakra to make my calling card, it had stopped without warning. The ritual was already complete.
