The night looms over with nothing but a cold reminder. Every lick of the wind against fresh wounds, formed bruises and cuts, sent a chill down his back but not his heart. Kiri looked on as he watched from above the tallest branch of the tallest tree in the forest of Kumogakure. Here, where he would often hunt with his brother, the latter manifesting his chakra in the manipulation of shadows. It was what he knew best. It was something he had come to rely on as what he calls his normal life. Everything was a hunt, after all. And he, too, was amongst the prey no matter how much he had tried so hard to be a predator.
After all these years when he wished to be stronger just to protect his brother’s soul, it seemed all for naught.
Kiri closes his eyes as he felt the sting once more. The wounds were temporary but the memory would be forever. And his gritted his teeth as he recalled what he discovered. How could he, after all these years, not have known? How could he not have noticed? That the diary he held close to his heart in the forest when he was young... the diary he kept hidden in his apartment... the very memento of his mother, would reveal such things. He may have once wondered why there were so many torn pages, or so many blank ones. He may have then decided it didn’t matter– that all that really mattered was that he held a possession that was once his mother’s. And yet, that very item contained the secrets, of the lie that he has lived till now.
It was by accident, really. It was unintended, and yet it felt like fate wrote it out. He was only supposed to meet up with an ANBU that day, to learn about the Sentou as recommended by his supervisor, Shinrya Kahako. But he stumbled across his bed and the books fell, then he found that the diary he had been keeping a secret was there, staring at him as if beckoning him. He only brought it along because he wanted to research about whatever jutsu there was that was keeping all the pages blank. He was hopeful to learn more about his mother. But everything turned out differently. And with the ANBU Echo’s help, he learned more than what he should have. Opening the Pandora’s Box only brought nothing but anger that surged within him as the truth was equally revealed to his brother’s soul. And much more than him, his brother loved their mother and so he felt no greater rage and sadness combined than at that time.
He was the tragedy of everyone he loved.
He clenched his fist and without hesitation, shouted with all his might until his voice broke.
He was supposed to be an adult now. He was supposed to ignore things like these… feelings like these… Yet, it felt like a tear across his own soul. And to someone who took consolation in his soulscape– to a member of the Hasegawa Clan– it was a torment that had been waiting to happen. The clan that he belonged to, of which he had tried to learn more and was hopeful to understand, had become the inevitable enemy, and he was the product of such cruelty. The lies… the persecution of his brother and mother… the gutless father… and those sinful elders… everything pointed to his own tragedy from the moment he was born. And that, he fully understood at this very moment.
He cursed his own curse, his birth, before he took hold of Nakigitsune. The cold handle of the sword was well worn-out from the years of use. He had planned to change it, to make it beautiful once more, to preserve the memory of his brother. And yet, he felt like everything had ended. There was no point in living anymore.
He drew the sword and watched the pointed tip of Nakigitsune before glancing behind to find some silhouette of Kumogakure in the distance, past the ocean of trees drowned in the dark of night, with the moonlight offering sweet touches on canopy peaks. He thought he would come to enjoy winter this year as well, but he supposed he guessed wrong. He won’t be able to enjoy the view from up here anymore.
And as if to say his final goodbye, he made for a longing glance towards the village, a tear falling down his cheeks, past the cut along his chin. It was supposed to be his home after all these years of searching, where he felt validated and he was ready to put his life on the line just to protect it– to be loyal to the Raikage. And yet, he could only think that he would only bring upon more tragedy as he once did in that incident with Hoshi. And that only meant that whatever aspiration he had, it was never truly his to begin with.
Then he would turn to face the other side. The night was perfect, silent, calm, creating a serene ocean of clouds, and perhaps further ahead would be the rest of the land. And he would have to bid them farewell the same way.
Just then, he felt a stark jolt from within him. It was a pain within his soul, and the malice returned. The unknown entity that recently had been haunting him, tempting him, and admittedly, slowly winning. It was whispering sweet words into his soul, telling him to take this opportunity to rage, to let it all out and bring destruction to everyone. And yet, he had had to hold back.
Staggering lightly, Kiri would try to focus, bringing a hand over his head as he calmed his mind. The shock from the revelation had silenced his brother’s sanity, bringing forth an uncontrollable rage. It burned from within him and he was at the edge of his own sanity. He was slowly exhausting every bit of mental fortitude he ever had. All the anguish, the pain, the rage that swirled from within his shared soul with his brother was leaking into his own. But that made him wonder if he ever had one to begin with. It almost seemed as if he was not even his own from the start, that his own conception was a curse of the clan and the timely curse of his own family. No goal in sight. No home to call. No wonder he had always felt alone, preferring the emptiness that was his own soulscape… he might as well never had been destined for anything.
In his last bit of strength he straightens his stand with a roar, his chakra oozing out into a sharp shockwave, cutting bits of the tree, save for his branch. And as he gazed upon the starless sky, looking straight into the moon, he took in a deep breath, raising Nakigitsune. The tip felt cold, the metal licking just the front of his dirtied yukata, still battle-torn and worn. He wanted to count to bring his thoughts away, but remains conscious. And that made everything seem far too close and creeping. Another hushed whisper of the entity and the rage fills him, bring him to move swiftly with a grunt.
It was quick, sharp, and hard.
He chokes at first, staggering back until he felt himself against the trunk of the tree, his knees quivering from the pain coursing through him. He coughs out blood as he lowers his eyes, tears forming and falling as he watches the blood run down through the hilt of the blade that was a few inches away from his blood-drenched yukata. He shakes as the cold night air kisses him gently and he finds his strength leaving, causing him to slide down to a sit on the branch. His gasping turned into quicken breaths interspersed with choking and coughing of blood. It hurt to think he’d resort to this but there really was nothing else to do. He had nothing.
He was nothing.
He slowly raises his head, leaning against the trunk as he watched the moon as the solitary light in this dark sky. Somehow, he found it soothing as he was beginning to lose control, lose his senses, lose his feelings. Perhaps it was the numbing of his body as it reaches the final stage of his existence. And so his vision would blur with the rapid beating of his heart remaining to paint the world before him.
Yet, the first thing he saw in his soulscape was the white void. It was his sanctuary for all these years. An endless white with nothing, not even the presence of his brother. But at that moment, a rupture occurs and he witnesses the trembling of the world. A crack runs across the ground from the center to all directions, red in color before blood gushes out in waves. Falling back, Kiri stumbles and drenches himself in the river of blood. And looking ahead, he sees an entity rise up from the ichor liquid, forming a huge beast. It was very familiar and it hurt him to know he knew.
The beast rose up, almost twice as large as Kiri, lupine in shape. Amidst the plated armors that surrounds its body, blood leaked and oozed like a fountain. It roared massively, terrifyingly, before it cast its eyes on Kiri. Those golden orbs fixates on Kiri as if there was a recognition. But the beast was an amalgamation of the soul, the curse, and everything that seemed to want to destroy. Kiri felt it. Those eyes that once looked upon with gentleness and care, robbed of the sanity and life, now silent and dead, and vengeful.
But he loses the battle and drowns into the river of blood, finding himself falling into the abyss. He sees the last bit of those golden orbs, floating like light sphere before him. He reaches out to them but he couldn’t even get close. His body was heavy, weak and weighted down as he continues to fall. The river of blood darkens as he continues his descent and the golden orbs rise further away until they fade. Kiri kept his hand reached out, in a last attempt to grab hold of the last thing that was his brother’s soul. And he failed.
I’m sorry – he tries to say, but even that he fails to do. He should have known his death would also be the latter’s end. He should have known better than to have strengthened his resolve. He should have known better…
In the real world, the wind grows restless, breezing past the silent body. Leaned up against the tree on the tallest branch, it was almost as if he allowed himself to be witnessed by the heavens. As if it was his own way of defying the fate of the universe. And yet, why did it feel as though he was the loser?
The bloodied happi flaps against the wind. Kiri’s left hand releases Nakigitsune’s hilt and falls to the side. And the blonde continues to stare defiantly onto the sky, eyes clouded, tears drying along the cheeks, and his last few rasped breaths echoing in the still night.
Those born into the Hasegawa Clan are destined to have the Cursed Beasts: One of Creation and One of Ruin. These souls would reside and build upon the Chosen’s strength. But those are destined to have a singular entity within them, are nothing but failures. They are to be executed, for they are the abomination of everything that is true. For what matters is not the host, but the souls that live within them.
Once upon a time, he had dreamt this. He woke up.
Strangely enough, the pained expression on his face softens as Kiri’s eyes slowly closes, yet he sheds one last tear with a plea.
“Save him…” he whispers into the night.
Eight hours earlier, in front of the entrance of the forest, Kiri stood still. He was just about to return home, to try and make sense of everything. And yet, he felt it from deep within him– the raging of the beast, and the shattering of his world.
[WC: 2,049]
Whether it was motherly intuition or her inner medical shinobi screaming at her, Kahako insisted they go and follow Kiri. If the events if today never occurred he would've just waved the young one off, but that wasn't the case, and he felt obligated to help search for his younger brother. The seasoned medical shinobi seemed to ignore the altercation they had gotten into and was hellbent on looking for the little firecracker. It was an admirable trait, but it was one that would surely cost her longevity if she continued these haphazard pursuits, but he wasn't going to let the soon-to-be wife of the Raikage just run off into danger on her own all willy-nilly. 
He embraced the crumbling figure of darkness; as his arms wrapped around the darkened figure a burst of light inside his mind and outside emitted from his body, showing a projection of his true self. He was wrong to have ignored the looming darkness for so long, even if Tensai was meaning him well, it was wrong to not delve into the plane of his soul to work through his own struggles and better himself from them.
Suddenly, there was another voice. At first, Kiri thought of Eishin and immediately stood up, turning around in hopes of calling out to his brother. But he stopped short as he saw a silhouette of a person. That couldn’t be Eishin. Eishin was always the beast that lived inside him. His brother’s soul that was cursed by their clan… he was large, and powerful and dark and… But there was a strange sense of familiarity emanating from the silhouette. He knew this person. Kiri felt that way as he looked on with held breath. Slowly, the voice became clearer and clearer and he could almost recognize the tone. The pitch. The breath.
