March 3rd. Moderate. Home.
Once upon a time... The words of so many fairy tales. But my life isn't a fairy tale. It never has been, and some-god-up-there-help-me, it never will be. But like so many stories, perhaps once true and now no more than an almost myth or a story told so many times the real truth may be nothing more than hidden between the lines, I write my life to you... whoever you are.
So.
Once upon a time there was a family. They were strong, proud, all the things one hears of historical families of note. The line was almost 1300 years old, dating back to when men were mere beasts in mind and skill. This family, now refined, rich and imposing owned many lands and peoples. It reads that 150 years ago the Motomori family was responsible for bringing several clans together and ending a feud of bloody battles. It was accurate in a basic form, but the truth, the real truth was that the Motomori family were thugs, killers, and slavers.
The feud was no more than the Motomori clan against several smaller clans, all with money and power of their own. They had rose up against the tyrant matriarch Motomori Gaia who had demanded tribute and gifts on a regular basis. Whenever she was denied these things, the clan would invade their lands and butcher their livestock, burn their crops and... kill their young children. War began in her 35th year, the 'feud' in which lasted no more than a month of fighting. The Motomori clan was vicious, trained from infancy to do battle and tried in the ninja arts. Each clan who stood against them was turned to ash and their young and women were taken as slaves after they fell to their mastery.
But the secret and more detrimental part of their warfare was their secrets; their kinjutsu. The Motomori clan were rumored to be sorcerers, enchanters and necromancers. Each firstborn male, those worthy of the training would be set down upon the path, like myself later on, and taught the ways of this forbidden art.
Once the other clans were overtaken, those remaining with special abilities were integrated into the Motomori family. Their bloodlines were bred into the clan families even though the original owners were little more than scum to them.
History books were written by the scholars of the family. It's written the Motomori were kind, ending a war between 4 ravaged clans and took in their leftovers, enveloping them into the strong and protective family. To this day I alone may be the only one who knows the truth and therefore.. isn't the story just like a fairy tale? I think it is.
Once upon a time... The words of so many fairy tales. But my life isn't a fairy tale. It never has been, and some-god-up-there-help-me, it never will be. But like so many stories, perhaps once true and now no more than an almost myth or a story told so many times the real truth may be nothing more than hidden between the lines, I write my life to you... whoever you are.
So.
Once upon a time there was a family. They were strong, proud, all the things one hears of historical families of note. The line was almost 1300 years old, dating back to when men were mere beasts in mind and skill. This family, now refined, rich and imposing owned many lands and peoples. It reads that 150 years ago the Motomori family was responsible for bringing several clans together and ending a feud of bloody battles. It was accurate in a basic form, but the truth, the real truth was that the Motomori family were thugs, killers, and slavers.
The feud was no more than the Motomori clan against several smaller clans, all with money and power of their own. They had rose up against the tyrant matriarch Motomori Gaia who had demanded tribute and gifts on a regular basis. Whenever she was denied these things, the clan would invade their lands and butcher their livestock, burn their crops and... kill their young children. War began in her 35th year, the 'feud' in which lasted no more than a month of fighting. The Motomori clan was vicious, trained from infancy to do battle and tried in the ninja arts. Each clan who stood against them was turned to ash and their young and women were taken as slaves after they fell to their mastery.
But the secret and more detrimental part of their warfare was their secrets; their kinjutsu. The Motomori clan were rumored to be sorcerers, enchanters and necromancers. Each firstborn male, those worthy of the training would be set down upon the path, like myself later on, and taught the ways of this forbidden art.
Once the other clans were overtaken, those remaining with special abilities were integrated into the Motomori family. Their bloodlines were bred into the clan families even though the original owners were little more than scum to them.
History books were written by the scholars of the family. It's written the Motomori were kind, ending a war between 4 ravaged clans and took in their leftovers, enveloping them into the strong and protective family. To this day I alone may be the only one who knows the truth and therefore.. isn't the story just like a fairy tale? I think it is.
The 13 year old, brand new genin closed his journal and looked over at his little sister, Aika. She was only 3 and playing on the ground of their new home in the slums of the Grand Palais. The one room house was big enough for them for now. With a faint smile, he moved to put his journal away, hidden from little toddler prying hands.
He was only just out of the academy and had managed his way through two C rank missions with his new inept teammates and glittery sensei but already he was showing promise and skill. He knew he was destined to be better than so many others and with the weight of his sister's little life in his hands, he would do his best.
He wouldn't reopen it until he was 15. As he sat in the waiting room for his name to be called for the chuunin exam; a 1 on 1 battle with 23 participants, Eiji ran his index finger over the binding of his journal. The edge was worn from such repetitive movements though the pages were crisp and nearly unused. There had only ever been the single entry. But he had an hour or more before he was called and at that moment, he knew it was time for another.
Pulling the book from his pouch, the youth withdrew a pen as well and began his second entry.
August 14th. Hot. Chuunin Exam.
Mother and Father. These are terms one usually uses in endearment or at least with some love behind the words. Mine are simply facts now.
I was born into the Motomori family who owned the lands near a huge waterfall and dense forest. My blood mother, Tia, was the next in line for the family's matriarch position when I left. Her husband, Natu, is not my father, though the papers say he is. It was important as always for the footprints of the family to be covered, save anyone find out the truth of the Motomori's family. With changing times in the world, this was even more important. My real father's name was Ijiiji like a virus. I look exactly like him and was even named after him in a way.
My mother's husband, Daro, was her 2nd cousin and therefore was an acceptable clan marriage on paper. My real father was her half-brother. They had the same mother. This grotesque pairing was one out of duty and family tradition, though I believe my parents were perversely in love with one another. It had been this way since the early years; the daughters of the matriarchs, those who could become the next clan leader, would be required to have children with their own half-siblings. The first born, or rather the first child who was birthed without retardation regardless of physical shape, would be left alive and be taught the secret kinjutsu of the family line, but that was all their importance (save being forced to fuck their half-siblings later on.) Daughters were most important, being able to have a chance at becoming the next family matriarch.
Now how do we save direct sibling couplings? It didn't always happen. Each female was required to have as many children as possible, (although any very deformed children or completely mentally ruined children were killed ad scored from the paperwork as if they never existed) and this was usually upward of 10 in their lifetimes, each by a different one of their own male half-siblings but repeats happened often depending on how many females were born verses males. When there were a majority of females in a single mother's bearing, males would have more than 1 child per sister verses when there was only a few daughters to sons, in which case there could be 1 child per coupling. These children, now all half-siblings would bed each other after each daughter started menstruating so she would have many children. Since all the siblings bed each other, the more sisters there were, the couplings there could be because all of your sisters' children were half-siblings to your other sisters' children and so on. The circle was foul. And since there were no paperwork telling which child was by which father/sister combination, there were times a true brother and sister would be coupled. I try not to think about just how far down this rabbit hole goes.
I, being the firstborn of the oldest daughter, left the family before either my two younger sisters were of bedding age. I would have no part of their insanity. But that is for another entry.
I am of relative sane mind, normal of body and lacking deformity. Yet the perversion of my life haunts me to no end. I am escaped from it, from them but for how long? As far as the world knows about the Motomori family, they are as normal as any other tightly knit clan: the closest marriages are 2nd counsins or the likes.
Mother and Father. These are terms one usually uses in endearment or at least with some love behind the words. Mine are simply facts now.
I was born into the Motomori family who owned the lands near a huge waterfall and dense forest. My blood mother, Tia, was the next in line for the family's matriarch position when I left. Her husband, Natu, is not my father, though the papers say he is. It was important as always for the footprints of the family to be covered, save anyone find out the truth of the Motomori's family. With changing times in the world, this was even more important. My real father's name was Ijiiji like a virus. I look exactly like him and was even named after him in a way.
My mother's husband, Daro, was her 2nd cousin and therefore was an acceptable clan marriage on paper. My real father was her half-brother. They had the same mother. This grotesque pairing was one out of duty and family tradition, though I believe my parents were perversely in love with one another. It had been this way since the early years; the daughters of the matriarchs, those who could become the next clan leader, would be required to have children with their own half-siblings. The first born, or rather the first child who was birthed without retardation regardless of physical shape, would be left alive and be taught the secret kinjutsu of the family line, but that was all their importance (save being forced to fuck their half-siblings later on.) Daughters were most important, being able to have a chance at becoming the next family matriarch.
Now how do we save direct sibling couplings? It didn't always happen. Each female was required to have as many children as possible, (although any very deformed children or completely mentally ruined children were killed ad scored from the paperwork as if they never existed) and this was usually upward of 10 in their lifetimes, each by a different one of their own male half-siblings but repeats happened often depending on how many females were born verses males. When there were a majority of females in a single mother's bearing, males would have more than 1 child per sister verses when there was only a few daughters to sons, in which case there could be 1 child per coupling. These children, now all half-siblings would bed each other after each daughter started menstruating so she would have many children. Since all the siblings bed each other, the more sisters there were, the couplings there could be because all of your sisters' children were half-siblings to your other sisters' children and so on. The circle was foul. And since there were no paperwork telling which child was by which father/sister combination, there were times a true brother and sister would be coupled. I try not to think about just how far down this rabbit hole goes.
I, being the firstborn of the oldest daughter, left the family before either my two younger sisters were of bedding age. I would have no part of their insanity. But that is for another entry.
I am of relative sane mind, normal of body and lacking deformity. Yet the perversion of my life haunts me to no end. I am escaped from it, from them but for how long? As far as the world knows about the Motomori family, they are as normal as any other tightly knit clan: the closest marriages are 2nd counsins or the likes.
It is nearly time to enter the arena when Eiji closed the journal and slipped it back into his pouch.
The next entry was when the boy was 17, another two years from the last entry. He was laying upon his bed, his first male partner asleep at his right side with a tan sheet barely covering his sore lower body. He was a chuunin at this time, had been part of several dozens of difficult missions and was close to working on Jounin trials. The man in his bed was his boyfriend, the only one he would have in his life thus far. Boyfriend, not sexual partners, those were innumerable.
Eiji had been overtaken by the need to write in his Journal once more that night. Satsuma, his partner, had found the book while being curious. He hadn't opened it, but had asked about it. He waited until the tall, dark skinned man was sound asleep before opening it to the next page.
November 1st. Sweaty. Bed with Satsuma.
I haven't read the last two entries since writing them and I don't intend to. I know what is in them. Like them I offer up another piece of my history to your pages. I'm sure my eloquence was lacking previously, but I can forgive myself. I'm not a novel writer afterall. Someday I will read these all again or someone I know will. It may be ten years from now before I open back to this page, so for nostalgia I will drab down some current memories.
The medical and ANBU ranks are calling me almost bi-daily. I haven't taken up a position for either branch and don't intend to. I am eager to begin trials for the Jounin exam. I should be able to enter into them within the year, however I don't mind waiting if that's needed. I covet the title but not the responsibility. It's conflicting.
Satsuma is my sexual partner right now. He's handsome and broad with a wonderful adeptness for hand to hand fighting techniques. His body is a chiseled stone. Tonight was the first night with him, my first night with a male at all. I think I will continue to see him.
I am convinced I will enjoy the company of men the rest of my days. I have no desire for children; my blood is a tainted poison. I have no desire for any woman either; they are trickster creatures with weak physique, unpleasant bodies and smells and cannot fully reach the mental maturity of men. Men are simply superior.
Now. To my history once more. There are two subjects yet to give word to I think and so I will speak of my escape. My training will come later.
I was 9 when I learned fully what my family was, how they conducted our lives and our history. It was that year I also learned of my true father, though in my heart I might have already known. He looked so like me; his eyes, his face. Or I have his rather. And his mind is harsh like my own. The entire Motomori clan has blue eyes so that likeness matters not. My mother also explained what I would be required to do for my family with my sisters Arashi and Mia. I was horrified. I voiced I would not obey which earned me the beating of a lifetime. It was the only one I took.
When I turned 10 and Arashi turned 9, preparations were being put in place for our coupling. It was assumed she would start to bleed within the next year. The day I came across the room we would share, I began my plan to escape. But it wasn't until I was almost 13 that my sister started to bleed. She loved me as a brother. She did not want this either and told me of her start before mother. She gave me the chance to put my plans in action and leave the compound.
Part of it was pretending to be a good boy. Outwardly, I pretended to accept my family's tradition, spurred from the beating. It was accepted that I was trustworthy, understood my purpose and wasn't watched so closely. It was a lie that saved me. Late, the night after my sister told me of her plight, I fled the compound and lands. I was forced to murder a cousin in the act. Silence was required. My largest regret in planning was leaving the kinjutsu training. Unable to leave it behind, I stole the secret scrolls from my grandmother's room before fleeing.
That isn't all. I brought Aika with me. She was only three when I took her and I don't regret it. I couldn't leave her. She is my only true blood sibling and was only a baby. I would've saved more if I could, but this wasn't possible. I had to bring her with me.
They never found us, that I know of. I traveled to Suna where I opted for citizenship in return for joining the army. I swore fidelity and was allowed into the village, though even to this day I'm not well trusted. Not many people who come to the village are trusted. It suits me fine.
I did not get all the scrolls though I have them well hidden. I will explain that next time. Satsuma stirs next to me.
I haven't read the last two entries since writing them and I don't intend to. I know what is in them. Like them I offer up another piece of my history to your pages. I'm sure my eloquence was lacking previously, but I can forgive myself. I'm not a novel writer afterall. Someday I will read these all again or someone I know will. It may be ten years from now before I open back to this page, so for nostalgia I will drab down some current memories.
The medical and ANBU ranks are calling me almost bi-daily. I haven't taken up a position for either branch and don't intend to. I am eager to begin trials for the Jounin exam. I should be able to enter into them within the year, however I don't mind waiting if that's needed. I covet the title but not the responsibility. It's conflicting.
Satsuma is my sexual partner right now. He's handsome and broad with a wonderful adeptness for hand to hand fighting techniques. His body is a chiseled stone. Tonight was the first night with him, my first night with a male at all. I think I will continue to see him.
I am convinced I will enjoy the company of men the rest of my days. I have no desire for children; my blood is a tainted poison. I have no desire for any woman either; they are trickster creatures with weak physique, unpleasant bodies and smells and cannot fully reach the mental maturity of men. Men are simply superior.
Now. To my history once more. There are two subjects yet to give word to I think and so I will speak of my escape. My training will come later.
I was 9 when I learned fully what my family was, how they conducted our lives and our history. It was that year I also learned of my true father, though in my heart I might have already known. He looked so like me; his eyes, his face. Or I have his rather. And his mind is harsh like my own. The entire Motomori clan has blue eyes so that likeness matters not. My mother also explained what I would be required to do for my family with my sisters Arashi and Mia. I was horrified. I voiced I would not obey which earned me the beating of a lifetime. It was the only one I took.
When I turned 10 and Arashi turned 9, preparations were being put in place for our coupling. It was assumed she would start to bleed within the next year. The day I came across the room we would share, I began my plan to escape. But it wasn't until I was almost 13 that my sister started to bleed. She loved me as a brother. She did not want this either and told me of her start before mother. She gave me the chance to put my plans in action and leave the compound.
Part of it was pretending to be a good boy. Outwardly, I pretended to accept my family's tradition, spurred from the beating. It was accepted that I was trustworthy, understood my purpose and wasn't watched so closely. It was a lie that saved me. Late, the night after my sister told me of her plight, I fled the compound and lands. I was forced to murder a cousin in the act. Silence was required. My largest regret in planning was leaving the kinjutsu training. Unable to leave it behind, I stole the secret scrolls from my grandmother's room before fleeing.
That isn't all. I brought Aika with me. She was only three when I took her and I don't regret it. I couldn't leave her. She is my only true blood sibling and was only a baby. I would've saved more if I could, but this wasn't possible. I had to bring her with me.
They never found us, that I know of. I traveled to Suna where I opted for citizenship in return for joining the army. I swore fidelity and was allowed into the village, though even to this day I'm not well trusted. Not many people who come to the village are trusted. It suits me fine.
I did not get all the scrolls though I have them well hidden. I will explain that next time. Satsuma stirs next to me.
Eiji shut the book and slipped it under the bed as his lover's eyes opened. They were hazel and deep. A smile touches his tired lips as his large hands move to hold Eiji's waist. He falls back to sleep.
The next entry doesn't take as long to get to. Eight months after the last one, a mission goes terribly wrong. Satsuma and Eiji were assigned to make a run to a far away cache and were ambushed. The need to write the last of his history was dire. They were holed up, safe for the moment. Eiji draws out the journal.
July. Wet. Mission.
Things are looking dire. Satsuma isn't breathing well anymore. The gash in his back is worse than my kit can fix and our mednin was killed yesterday. It's dark where I am now, I cannot see my own writing but I have a steady hand. I will have to write fast. If this journal is found on my dead body, I wish you the best and find my kinjutsu scrolls. I gift them to you... whoever you are.
It's that very subject I wish to write.
Since I was 4, my uncle/father had been teaching me the family's secret skills. We are called "Dark Sages" though others call us necromancers. I was taught how to rise the dead by the time I was 7. When I was 8 I learned how to seal a man's skills and ruin his body over time. I've even learned how to kill a man by tearing out his soul. These are the secrets I contain, this and more. I am an evil man now, my lessons and dark energies have turned and angry child and a hateful youth into and heartless man. I am 18 now, nearly dead. I may die trying to kill my enemy, but know when they find the remains of those who do not make it out of a battle with me, their hollow bodies and sealed frames may tell the tale of what I am when I'm gone. If I survive... I am determined to become the most dangerous man alive. I am the dark sage of the Motomori clan. I also promise if I live to kill the rest of my clan so the secret is mine alone.
If I die, I ask you to kill them all for me. I-
Things are looking dire. Satsuma isn't breathing well anymore. The gash in his back is worse than my kit can fix and our mednin was killed yesterday. It's dark where I am now, I cannot see my own writing but I have a steady hand. I will have to write fast. If this journal is found on my dead body, I wish you the best and find my kinjutsu scrolls. I gift them to you... whoever you are.
It's that very subject I wish to write.
Since I was 4, my uncle/father had been teaching me the family's secret skills. We are called "Dark Sages" though others call us necromancers. I was taught how to rise the dead by the time I was 7. When I was 8 I learned how to seal a man's skills and ruin his body over time. I've even learned how to kill a man by tearing out his soul. These are the secrets I contain, this and more. I am an evil man now, my lessons and dark energies have turned and angry child and a hateful youth into and heartless man. I am 18 now, nearly dead. I may die trying to kill my enemy, but know when they find the remains of those who do not make it out of a battle with me, their hollow bodies and sealed frames may tell the tale of what I am when I'm gone. If I survive... I am determined to become the most dangerous man alive. I am the dark sage of the Motomori clan. I also promise if I live to kill the rest of my clan so the secret is mine alone.
If I die, I ask you to kill them all for me. I-
Eiji's writing cuts off as Satsuma's body shudders and he slips the journal back into his pouch. There are bloody fingerprints on it's surface now and Eiji knows it's only a matter of time now before Satsuma is dead. Instead of that, the Dark Sage lays down his love on the dirty cave floor. It's damp and cold. His shudders and calls for Eiji. There's no way to save him. Eiji shuts off his feelings, burying them deep inside of himself. He watches as life slips away from Satsuma. Blood bubbles from his lips. A single kiss goodbye and the taste of iron his mouth, Eiji performs one of the dark techniques so few others in the living world can do and binds his dying soul to himself. As he dies he isn't free to move on, instead being held to this world and to his corpse in a fashion of fake life. Satsuma becomes Eiji's first corpse, one he can summon to battle in the future like a pawn. The act tires Eiji to the point of breaking, yet be manages only to seal him into a scroll before passing out.
The small man manages to fight his way back to Suna after rising a day later.
Over the next few years, the journal fills more and more. Eiji's recounts new training techniques, lovers, hate, actions and loss. Nothing more of his history, just the first four entries. It remains hidden on his person or in his home, safe from others.
He keeps the only picture of Satsuma and himself together tucked intio the journal. Every now and then he brings it out.
He is yet to be found by his family or seek them out once more. After he turned 20, he was promoted to Jounin rank and shortly after that, joined the ANBU ranks. His skills were a benefit to the team. He had little interest in either branch, but felt the need to do something. And since the ANBU missions are done in such secrecy he found they turned out to be the best way to practice his forbidden techniques and accumulate more bodies.
