~Prelude~
Kagatsuchi Shisou comes from a long line of skilled poets and dreamers. Every society has at least one sect of them, and a shinobi village is no different. With their varying skillset, the artisans offset the rigid structure of the Snow Village with their own special brand of life. They branded themselves to be creators of happiness. Shisou was supposed to be born into this troupe, this merry band of brothers. However, they were the Jinsei clan, and Shisou was born under a different set of stars then them.
~Intro~
The babe was born, at the expense of the mother. It was a horrible mess. Her heart just couldn’t take it, and as her lifeblood spilled out, the new babe was cursed for its indiscretion. Though Shisou did not possess the ability to speak yet, his father cursed his name. He was the shadow of death, Shisou; the babe did not deserve the name of life, either, so his father cursed him with the name of Kagatsuchi, the destroyer god of fire. From his conception, Shisou was a hated being.
Though it was not Shisou’s fault, his father blamed him for his wife’s death. Before he had even taken his first breaths, Shisou was cursed to be a scourge to the world. Disowned by his father without even knowing it, Shisou cried as any newborn babe does, and he was carried away for post-birth operations. Such was the way of the world, life begets death, which in turn begets life again.
Those first few moments of his life were harbinger to the events of the rest of his life, so to speak. Fate is predetermined, but Destiny is to be seized. However, that is the way of the world, to be forgotten and abused with absolutely no recourse. Shisou would come to learn that.
~Legend: Onset~
Life wasn’t easy, Father made particularly sure of that. From the time he could walk, Shisou was pushed to his limits. Those were the first things he could remember. The walking was the first part. Shisou took his first step earlier than most, and that was the first thing he did right. Shinji, his father, had waited the long months for that first milestone in the boy’s life. Tentatively, Shisou did take his step, and within the month he was walking like a professional. That was when the weights came. Strapped to his legs and arms, the weights impeded the forward motion of the child. We all struggle with forward motion, Shinji thought to himself, so then why shouldn’t Shisou have as much trouble, or more, than anyone else. Why should he get to be special?
Early childhood education took on new meeting in the Jinsei ~ Kagatsuchi household. One must always get an early start in life, or else the challenges of the world may prove futile. Combat training consisted of Shisou standing still while Shinji taught him how to properly take and give blows. Shisou did most of the receiving and Shinji did most of the giving, but that was the way of the world for Shisou. It taught a child backbone to get hit and have to get back up. It taught them temperance if you did it years in a row. Shinji knew that, and he had to make sure Shisou knew that as well.
These times stuck in Shisou’s mind the most. How could his father be so cruel? What did Shisou do to deserve these beatings? When would it end? How could he make it end? The scared little boy huddled in his room, night after night, and cried himself to sleep. No one should be made to feel insignificant or worthless, but Shisou was. This was when the anger started. It was a well that had started dry. Then, all at once, the fresh water of anger began bubbling up. Shisou knew that he couldn’t hurt Shinji, he was too small, that was his father, he wasn’t supposed to hurt people. So he let the anger bubble and roil, because that was easier, easier then lashing out at the people of the village, or himself, or his father.
He wanted to be angry, in the end, but Shisou knew that anger wasn’t the answer to all the problems of the world. There was enough evidence in the very art of killing that it didn’t solve anything but to end another’s life. Life begets death, which in turn begets life. That was the way of the world that Shisou had begun to understand. So he punished himself. Not by cutting or by cursing, but he trained harder, degraded himself for being a curse on the world, and vowing to make everything, something, better in the future, a positive force so to speak. From birth he had been a curse, so a curse he would be until he could make himself a positive force.
~Legend: Extant~
Those things, and more, continued on without a break to the season. It formed Shisou into a tool. A tool of rage and muscle, Shisou did not like the rage, but it was something he was accustomed to. It was the friend when the beatings were too severe, when Shinji stopped painting and started drinking, and it was the solace when the skin was chafing. Until he was thirteen years old, those were the given norms. Shinji hated it.
So one day he hit back, hard. Shinji didn’t know where it came from, but it came. The rage fueled it, strengthened it. His fist like iron, Shisou beat back at Shinji, and quelled the drunken man’s spirit. Not too much, Shisou wasn’t malicious, instead, Shisou hit with precision and skill, like the cold blade of a surgeon’s scalpel. Just enough to write the wrong, enough to bring justice to the situation, the anger supplied this to Shisou; Shisou happily obliged.
Broken and Huddled, Shinji lay on the ground, pleading for mercy. Shisou gave him mercy, something that had been absent from his trials in the past. Even though Shisou had cried out and pleaded with Shinji, there had been no succor for him. That was the way of power, of anger, some misused it and some did not.
“I’m going to the Academy now. I need to learn to do something more than be your puppet. My life will amount to more than that. Mother would have wanted it that way, and you have defiled her memory by your actions. I will do good; because that is the way the world works.” With those last words to his broken father, Shisou turned foot and headed for his freedom.
“She is dead because of you, Shisou.” The words were mumbled and faint, but they struck the young man’s heart all the same. “You were her reaper, the one who destroyed her perfection. She had so much life left, and you stole that from her. You are cursed where you walk to bring only harm. That is what I put on you. You cannot undo that. So go Kagatsuchi Shisou, and bring your shadow of death and destruction to the rest of this village, that is all you are good for.”
The tears came quickly and silently, but Shisou did not turn around to give Shinji the satisfaction of seeing them. “Life begets death, which begets life again. That is the way of the world, or so you have taught me. Mother gave her life for me, and I will be in her debt forever. That only means that I must live for two people rather than one. I have to do the goodness of two, rather than just my one. I have to honor her memory, move on, and bring solace to the world. If I do not do that, she will have died in vain. You don’t understand that, painter. You have your head in the clouds so often; you missed the portrait being unraveled right in front of you: Me. I may be an omen of doom, but at least my doom will beget life. Thank you for showing me that my anger has to be constructive or it is just dead weight.” Shisou left then. He had already packed his bag, and Kumo wasn't a stranger to young men with big dreams.
At least he had a goal. To do good in the world. Noble, yes, but that is the way the world works…
