Open History of Sunagakure 101: Rooted in Blood [Class]

[Chikamatsu Shin]

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ​ T o r a o n o D o j o​ Newly added class now required for all students to take in their years of study​ History of Sunagakure: Primus and the First Men ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆​

Shin stepped back into the Toraono Dojo with a sigh. This was a topic he was passionate about and had learned quite a bit about since joining the Oracles. He placed his hand on the desk and looked around the classroom, taking in the familiar space he'd taught in so many times before.

The room was set up simply today, rows of desks facing forward, a clear chalkboard behind him, and a single locked chest sitting prominently on his desk. Unlike his more elaborate setups for taijutsu or ninjutsu training, today's lesson required fewer props and more discussion.

Shin wore his usual teaching attire, comfortable and practical. His pale-gold hair fell loosely around his face as he moved to the chalkboard and wrote a single word in bold strokes:

Tradition​

He stepped back, regarding the word for a moment before turning toward the door. The sound of approaching footsteps signaled that students would be arriving soon.

"Good, right on time," he said quietly to himself, moving to stand beside his desk. As the first students began to filter in, he greeted each with a nod.

"Take a seat anywhere. Once everyone arrives, we'll discuss something that most shinobi overlook—but shouldn't."

[WC: 243/1000]
[PC: 1/5]

 

[Harorudo]

It was a rare day off for me from my duties as an ANBU in Training within the village and I needed it as my joints were burning and achy. While I was getting better at keeping up with the younger members that I worked with, I knew I was an older gentleman and my body would struggle to keep up with theirs regardless of the amount of training that I did or adaptability that I could to accommodate myself. However, it was nice to be doing something that my late wife and children would be proud of if they were still around. My kids would probably laugh and tease me for having a end of year crisis and going from my mundane employment to being a shinobi of the village, but hey, Dad still had it.

I had heard that our Kazekage was having a class today in the lustrous Toraono Dojo where I had visited many times over my life to talk with the clan heads of each respective branch that would have me or to gather information for a mission assigned to me by my current boss. As I was free today and I knew one was never too old to learn new things, I decided I would go to the class and see what I could learn that may not have been taught through the old textbooks still in my home or during my academy classes in the past. It was a pleasant walk from my home to the classroom with little to no issues aside from a minor ache or pain along the way from overusing my body at my age.

Upon arrival, I would take the desk closest to the door. A quick bow to the Kazekage and I would take my seat and await his instruction on History of Sunagakure: Primus and the First Men. A subject that surprisingly I was not taught about when I was the age of a student or later in life when I graduated.

 

[Chikamatsu Ayaka]

Ayaka had been standing outside the classroom for almost two full minutes.

She could hear movement inside... the scrape of chairs, footsteps, the Kazekage's voice. Each sound made her heart beat a little faster. `Just go in. It's a class. You're supposed to be here.` But her feet wouldn't move. What if she was late? What if everyone stared? What if Lord Shin asked her a question and she froze like she always did?

Her fingers found the white flower tucked behind her ear, twisting the stem nervously. The fabric of her light blue robes whispered as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Through the doorway, she could see other students already seated. An older man—much older than the usual academy students—had taken a desk near the door. That made her pause. At least she wouldn't be the strangest person in the room.

`Auntie would just walk in.` Chikamatsu Maho never hesitated, never second-guessed herself. But Ayaka wasn't Maho, no matter how much the clan elders wished she was.

Taking a breath that didn't quite fill her lungs, Ayaka finally moved. She kept her golden eyes down, focusing on the floor as she slipped through the doorway. Her braid swayed against her back as she moved quickly—not running, but close to it—toward the nearest empty desk in the back corner. Somewhere she could observe without being observed.

She didn't look at the Kazekage directly, though she caught the word written on the chalkboard in her peripheral vision. Tradition. Her sleeve pulled over her hand as she sat down, the yurei orchid symbol disappearing into the fabric she clutched. The locked chest on Shin's desk caught her attention for a moment before she looked away, studying the grain of the wood on her own desk instead.

`Just... don't get called on. Please don't get called on.`

"Sorry," she whispered to no one in particular, barely audible. An apology for existing in the space, for arriving after someone else, for whatever imagined transgression her anxious mind had conjured.

Her hands folded in her lap, hidden beneath the desk where no one could see them trembling slightly.

 

[Kureji]

Okay, so maybe Kureji got lost. He's been hitting up the Toraono dojo basically every day. He blames Machoman. He just has the thrill of wanting to fight. But today while he was looking for whoever had challenged him today he got lost on where to go. No matter where he went, he would only walk in on some classes being taken place.

Yeah, he forgot that this place also counts as both a school and a sparring area. Which felt weird in case if some person was a jinchuriki and suddenly went vanishing world on their opponent. But hey, what does he know.

Walking around with his hands in his pockets as chaotic energies would surround him, he would come across a door in which he felt a strong presence behind. This must be the place! He swung the door wide open and flashed a smile at the first person that was within his point of view. It was an older man that Kureji doesn't know. His smile slowly faded with a look of confusion as he looked around the room. A young girl who was fidgeting with her hands. And another person.

At first, he had to do a double take. The man before him had similar looks to Kohana. Almost like they must be brother and sister. Kureji remembered the man well enough. The twelfth Kazekage. He never quite caught a name other than what he has dubbed him. Glowy Dude.

Gee.... Now he's thinking about Kohana again and is now remembering how she kissed him and then ran away. That was the second reason why he was at the Toraono Dojo. To get his mind off of that night. He has strong feelings for her but after she ran away, he wondered if he was being too pushy for her and that's why she panicked. He sure hopes that's not the reason. He still owes her an apology but she seems to be avoiding him.

He would face away from everyone as he would make his way towards the door, "My b. I'm just lost. Don't mind me." He would look at the older guy, "Gramps. Take care and drink lots of milk."

 

[Sabaku Rika]

Rika did not need to be here, but she wanted to be. When she heard there would be a lesson on the history of Suna, she had to be there. She loved expanding her knowledge; the more she knew, the more she could rub it in everyone else's face that she was better. She also wanted to observe and see who else would arrive. The rosters were full of genin, and students she hadn't met yet, and she just wanted to check what was up anyway. Two birds with one stone.

Rika showed up as others were. She was wearing a pair of botan pants and a loose button-up. Casual, since she didn't expect to get into a fight. Not like she wouldn't be ready for one, she didn't need any gear to kick ass. It was just helpful. Her jet-black hair was down; her jade-green eyes scanned the classroom. She passed the weird dude who looked like he was in the wrong place, about to leave. She pulled out a small pocket notebook and a pen, scribbling on the page to make sure the ink was still good. Her feet didn't touch the ground.

After she got settled in, she gave Shin a half wave before looking down at her little notebook. She was in the far back, ready to take note, or nap maybe. She would try to stay awake. But it wasn't like she was required to be here either.

[Topic entered]
[OOC Rika is here just for the vibes, you can skip her if need be.]

 

[Hokkyoku Yuka]

This class was marked as required. Yuka saw it on the schedule. This class seemed easy enough. She hoped she would not see the six armed freak again. Or the sunshine boy. As she entered she noticed the adult who entered, looked like a lost dog, then turn to leave. She glanced at the old man, then at the Kazekage. She then looked at the person who was about to leave.
"Annoying," She muttered as she brushed passed him and took a seat, and looked at the board. Yuka took a seat in the front, one seat away from the old man.

Tradition, the very thing that this village lived on. ties, chains, being a Hokkyoku, traditions weren't something she really knew. Settling wasn't her family's way after all. THings shifted and changed with the sands. Still she had to be here. For now. She wondered if she would see Sabishii here. After all it was 'required'.

[Topic entered]
[WC: 160/1000]
[Post 1/5]

 

[Sabishii]

​

'The more you learn the more you are able to earn your keep,' Words that rang into Sabishii's ear as he would work around he Hokkyoku homes. He was well off with his hands and quick to learning how to fix things. The thought of him being a hand for the house didnt make him feel well, he could do much more, especially now that he was gaining more control of the ghosts that summoned themselves around him. At any pace, he hear Yuka leave, and he made it his goal to make sure she would not get herself into anything she couldnt get herself out of. He was her silent keeper. He would do everything in his power to keep her alive because he sensed something deeply dark about her. It was something that drew him to her. Maybe because he knew his fate was drawn to her? Maybe something else.

So he would head out tracking behind her from a distance not trying to hide but to stay out of her way. She was a girl of ambition. He was a soul of support. Defense. The Healer of sorts in her case. Pushing himself forward, this time with no weapon with him as he felt his ability to manipulate the ghosts to do his bidding was beginning to become a stronger source of offense. He could have them use ninjutsu in his stead, and at night they were stronger than the day. This would help him greatly... because he was going to want to keep his frail body out of the line of sight of taijutsu and ninjtusu specialists and fight from mid to long range. Alas, they would reach the room... 'Required Class... hm..' thoughts swirled but nothing made him feel off.

"Indeed.", he would speak as he stepped next to Yuka and set himself close by, but sitting behind her. He fed off her energy. Maybe this was for better or worse. Yet, he didnt care. He was with her and his fate was sealed with repaying her until his dying breaths. Or at least thats how he felt internally... he would never say such outloud.



[Topic Entered]
[WC = 363/1000]

 

[Chikamatsu Shin]

Shin waited until the last of the chairs had stopped scraping before he spoke.

The room had settled into something interesting, an older gentleman near the door who carried himself with the quiet dignity of someone who had lived more life than most of the students in this room combined. A young girl tucked into the furthest corner she could find, her flower twisting between her fingers like a nervous habit she wasn't aware of. Kureji had arrived, assessed the room, dispensed unsolicited nutritional advice to Harorudo-san, and departed before Shin could say a word—which, honestly, was a very Kureji thing to do. The sharp-eyed young woman in the back with her notebook already open. Two more students who arrived together, the quieter one settling in close behind the first like a shadow that had decided to take attendance.

He noted them all. He always did.

"Good morning," Shin said, his voice unhurried, carrying clearly through the room without needing volume to do the work. "I'm glad you're here. All of you."

His pale blue eyes, calm and observant as still water, moved from face to face as he spoke.

"My name is Chikamatsu Shin. Some of you know who I am. Some of you don't. In here, it doesn't matter either way. Titles are for the Tower. In this classroom, we talk."

He turned and gestured to the single word still written on the board behind him.

"Tradition."

He let it sit there for a moment, the way a good teacher lets silence do the heavy lifting.

"That word means something different to everyone in this room. And I'd wager most of you have never been asked what it means to you personally. That changes today."

Shin stepped away from the board, moving to stand at the edge of the first row, unhurried and present.

"This class is called History of Sunagakure. Required curriculum now, which means some of you are here because you want to be, and some of you are here because you had no choice." A faint smile crossed his lips. "Both are fine. By the time we're done, I expect even the reluctant ones will find something worth carrying with them."

He clasped his hands loosely behind his back.

"We're going to start at the very beginning. Not dates and names—those matter, but they're not where understanding lives. We're going to start with a simple question that I want each of you to sit with for a moment before you answer."

His gaze moved slowly across the room. When it passed over the back corner, it didn't linger—just a brief, quiet acknowledgment that the girl there was seen and not forgotten.

"What do you know about how Sunagakure came to be? Not what you read in a textbook. Not what a teacher told you to memorize for an exam. What do you actually know? What were you told by your family? What have you heard in the markets or around the table? What do you believe?"

He turned to include Harorudo-san with an easy nod, his voice carrying the same warmth as it had for the younger students.

"And that includes you, sir. You've lived more of Sunagakure's living history than anyone else in this room. I'd genuinely like to hear your perspective—sometimes the most valuable accounts come from those who watched events unfold rather than read about them afterward."

Shin moved back toward his desk and settled against the edge of it, unhurried and at ease. He picked up a piece of chalk, turning it lightly between his fingers without writing anything yet.

"There are no wrong answers here. If you say something I can clarify or build on, I will. If you say something the lore guides confirm, even better. And if you say something that surprises me—" his eyes lit with something genuine, "—that's honestly my favorite kind of class."

He gestured broadly, an open invitation.

"So. The floor is yours. Anyone. Start anywhere. Tell me what you know about where we came from."

[PC: 2/5]

 

[Sabaku Rika]

Rika sat in the back and watched as the others entered the classroom: the weird guy, the weird redhead, and the boy who looked like he was on his tenth day without sleep.

"Sheesh..." She mumbled. She then looked at Shin as he began the class and listened to what he had to say. Tradition. He wanted them to answer with what they had heard and seen, not from what they read in books. That was a problem... What did she know? She knows what she had read about Sunagakure.

Rika leaned back in her chair and tapped her pen on her cheek as she pondered. She glanced up at the ceiling, and the quiet was a little unnerving. "Well, my handlers didn't tell me much about tradition, but from what I have seen, Sunagakure seems to run on strong belief in family ties, and toughing through storms," Rika commented, and then she tilted her head. If she were here, she would have participated. Or try to. She glanced around to see what the others had to say. She was curious.

Growing up, Rika's handlers only spoke to her when necessary. Family dinners and talks weren't a thing; she usually was on her own. From what she read, traditions were things people practiced, usually holidays, family events, marriages, and so on. Rika hadn't really seen or heard any of these things firsthand. This thought made her frown slightly. She wrote in her notebook, 'Traditions affect mainly families?'

 

[Chikamatsu Ayaka]

Ayaka had been staring at the word on the chalkboard since she sat down.

Tradition.

She knew what it meant. She had grown up steeped in it. The Chikamatsu way of doing things was not suggested... it was simply... the water you swam in. Morning care of the medicinal garden. Specific prayers before harvesting. The oath recited at mealtimes until the words stopped having individual meaning and became something more like breathing. The yurei orchid on every sleeve. The expectation that every child born to the clan would find their place in its legacy whether they wanted to or not.

When Lord Shin's gaze moved across the room and passed over her corner without pressing—just that quiet acknowledgment—something in her chest loosened a fraction.

He's not going to make me go first.

She exhaled.

When the Chuunin girl in the back spoke up—confident, even now, even in a classroom—Ayaka found herself listening carefully. Family ties. Toughing through storms. That was true, from the outside looking in. But from the inside...

Her fingers pressed flat against her desk. She had something to say. She knew she did.

Don't. You'll say it wrong. You'll make it weird.

But the question Lord Shin had asked wasn't about books. It was about what she actually knew. And she knew the Chikamatsu. She had been told their history in pieces her whole life, woven into lessons about plant properties and healing theory and what it meant to carry their name.

Her hand rose slightly. Barely. Hovering uncertainly at desk level.

"Um..."

She stopped. Tried again, eyes fixed on the surface of her desk rather than the room.

"My... my family talks about the desert like it's alive. Like it tests people on purpose." Her voice was quiet but steady, the words coming out carefully chosen. "They say the first clans didn't just survive the desert. They had to become something the desert allowed to exist. And that... that's where the clans came from. Not from being strong enough to fight it, but from learning what it needed and giving that."

A beat of silence. Her face was warm.

"I don't know if that's history or just... how our family tells it."

The word landed before she could catch it.

Our.

Her eyes went wide. The heat in her face tripled instantly, crawling all the way to the tips of her ears as the implication settled over the room like dust after an explosion. She had just—in front of everyone—casually acknowledged that the Kazekage was her family. That she had the audacity to claim our like they shared a dinner table. Which they did, occasionally, but that was—that wasn't the point—

"I meant—that's—the Chikamatsu, generally, as a—as a clan, I wasn't trying to—"

She stopped. Pressed her lips together. Looked back down at her desk with great intensity, as though the wood grain had suddenly become the most fascinating thing she had ever seen in her entire life.

Stop talking. Stop talking right now. You are making it so much worse.

Her hand disappeared entirely under the desk. She became very still, in the particular way of someone hoping that if they didn't move, the moment might simply... forget them.

 

[Hokkyoku Yuka]

Yuka was listening. She knew Sabashii sat behind her. A shadow she was still getting used to. He learned fast, which she was glad for. He would be a useful brother. The brother her parents failed to give through blood. Maybe this was better.

Yuka paid little attention to the others in class. She listened to Shin speak, and she absorbed the information. She thought her family's traditions were simple. Bonfires when they reached a certain point in the desert, dances to appease the sands, or just an excuse for the adults to drink. The traditions she always enjoyed doing were carving into beasts that were hunted. Sabishii was there for the last one - a baskalisk taken down, and the youngest gets the first cut into the beast before prepping it to roast. Yuka and Sabashii, both being the youngest, got the first cut. Yuka had to compromise - since she wanted to do it, they were going to give the honor solely to Sabishii. She wouldn't let them.

The girl in the back spoke first. Rika listened, then quickly dismissed it. Then the blonde girl, who looked like she probably would faint if she were put into a real battle. Yuka looked at the girl with a cold stare as she spoke. She was right in a way.

Yuka looked back to the front, at Shin. "She is correct, my family says the sands are living and breathing," Yuka spoke in an even tone. "My loving parents told me that the sands shift and change. Traditions change, and nothing is permanent. The sands allow us to exist, and we appease it, whether through blood or fire. When someone dies, the sand reclaims them. Their memories and very being become grains of sand." Yuka explained. As she finished speaking, she brushed her hair out of her face.


[Post 2/5]
[MFT]

 

[Sabishii]

Settling into his position was easy enough, especially with the likes of those that entered before he and Yuka did. Though, he would watch so she did not have to. The likes of those that sat with them from the elderly man who seemed much out of place but might have been a teacher sitting in on the Kage's lesson. To the young Chikamatsu girl. They all were here for the reason of learning, but what was the cost of everything that would be learned? Once you were taught something you would not be able to unlearn the memory of it. You could try but it would always be a part of who you were. A young boy, Sabishii, knew this much. He'd watched blood spilled already so early in his life but none of that mattered in this setting. Yet, the masses would try to make you believe you could just let go and forget the past that brought you to where you were. Everything that happened was for and within a reason. And that was something very much apart of this lesson...

However, this was a lesson that he would know nothing truly about. And that bothered him. He wanted to be able to chime in on the conversation that began to stir but he wasn't at all knowing of the details within this. He was technically not from this place. Not of this place. Yet he was housed within it, taken in by a nomadic clan of people that were not tied and bound to the typical ways of tradition. And therein lied the point. Something that he would be able to cling to in regard to the subject matter. Hollowed eyes would stare vacantly though, the ghosts swirling up around him once again and whispering audibly so, Yuka would be able to hear. Maybe the others would too if they paid attention, however it didn't matter if they did or not.

"Yes. Yukaa~"
"Tell them Sabi-san~"

The whispers would ensue, "Traditions... were all made, like many things before..." Sabishii would croak out through a hazed tone, "But Broken by those who dare to stand in the face of them...", a frown forming on his face as he looked directly into the face of both the Chikamatsu in the class, the Kage and the youngling, was he daft to believe that he could speak in such a way? Maybe. Maybe he was. "...But Traditions also... give structure." his voice clearing a bit before continuing again.

"...Traditions come with sacrifices... In blood... sweat... emotions... I... don't know much about... history... but I know it is written by those who survived through traditions...", nodding he would move himself in his chair for a moment. It was the most he'd spoken in a while, if at all. The ghosts swirling around him even looked surprised in him moving with their mouths agape.

[Post 2/5]

 

[Kureji]

Kureji was admittedly lost as he went back outside. He brushed off the insult the little girl made about him being annoying. He has heard the like before and obviously has heard worst things thrown his way. Heck, he was more insulted that she couldn't think of a better, more original insult.

Either way, he continued to walk around until he found another powerful aura behind a door. This must be it! Kureji would open the door only to be confused and disappointed. It was the same room from earlier that he had opened.

"Eh...?" He would mutter to himself, "Am I in a Genjutsu? Must be." He figured that it must be Glowy Dude that had put a genjutu on him to get his directions mixed up and lost to come back here again. Either way, he figured that it will end once he stays here for whatever reason. He sat right next to Gramps and tried to get comfortable in the chair, but it was too small for him as he struggled.

As he struggled, he heard the others talk about family and traditions and all that fun stuff. The type of thing that he doesn't even have. "Eh. I dunno much about all of that. My actual family is in a looney bin somewhere and the guy that adopted me has been hands off on most of my life so I figured things out in my own way. As for traditions..." He would shrug, "Dunno any."