The pitter-patter of rain on leaves was a deafening staccato, overwhelming all other sound in the heart of the Ancient Forest. Lightning flashed across the sky, branching and twisting like the hands of the Gods reaching down from heaven to smite the earth; but, deep beneath the canopies of the massive primordial trees that filled the infinite woodland, only vivid, strobe-like flashes were visible. The bright, iridescent light illuminating everything for only a moment before absconding in the blink of an eye, leaving only the heart rending explosions of thunder as evidence of its occurrence. The driving blizzards that froze the landscape every winter only made up a small part of the reputation of the country’s infamous bad weather. The summer thunderstorms were the real reason this mountainous corner of the world was called Lightning Country. The people of the village were all tucked away safely in their houses, well accustomed to the kind of weather that would cause the citizens of any other country to flee to their basements to take refuge. Only the stalwart figures of the Shinobi guarding the walls, gates, and streets of the village bore testament that the village wasn’t completely abandoned; their resolute figures a beacon of dedication and vigilance against the ever looming threat of assault. There were more of the black cloaked ANBU prowling the walls and streets than there had been in the past, a result of multiple factors. The end of the war between the countries of Marsh, Bear, and Lightning, as well as the destruction of the Village Hidden in the Mist by dramatic climate change and the collapse of Konoha Corp. had left the elite espionage and covert strike teams of the ANBU Corps with little else to do; but, more importantly, the fall of multiple governing figures of the Main Branch had left it weakened, and the ANBU were forced to pick up the slack.
The weakening of the Main Branch, along with a dramatic drop in the recruitment of new students, had left everyone who had been in the lower echelons struggling to keep up with their added responsibilities. This was especially true for those who were closest to the ones who were lost. After Masao’s fall, Do Natsu had been promoted to Sennin; but, with a mysterious illness leaving him incapacitated, Hikari had to step up and take charge. Division leaders within the Main Branch had to be shuffled, switched, and reassigned almost at random to keep up with the ever increasing losses caused by the war. One division in particular, the Merces Letifer, had almost ceased to exist; having almost all of its previous members being transferred to lead other divisions who were in need of support. Of all the people in the Merces Letifer who had worked the closest with Sennin Takaki Masao, only one remained; Narashi Jo. The young man had more experience in Special Operations than most ANBU; having been a key member of the team that had taken down the scourge that was the King Slayers terrorist organization, and ended the war. He had been field promoted to Chuunin upon Masao’s assumed death, and was immediately placed at the head of the Merces Letifer as Hand of the Sennin; but, with the rest of the assassination department having been reassigned, Jo was left to pick up the slack. Takaki Masao had been a great leader, and an amazing Shinobi, but he had not done the Merces Letifer any favors by turning it into his own personal strike team. The covert assassination missions that the Merces Letifer was supposed to be infamous for had been put on the back burner in the light of the Kingslayer fiasco, and the resulting war. Now, Jo was left alone to try and clean up a mess for an entire department while still trying to keep up with his duties as the Hand and manage the running of the Couriers department.
It had been two months since he had slept more than an hour or two at his desk in the basement of the Torre. Two months since he had seen Saeko, the love of his life, for more than a brief moment in passing. Two months of slaughtering dozens of marks by means that prevented the world from knowing that Shinobi had anything to do with them, either by disguising them as accidents, or passing the blame onto others. As the days started blurring together, Jo found himself relying more and more on the Demon that resided inside him. By-Tor the hellhound, knight of darkness, Centurion of evil, devil's prince, was more than happy to lend Jo his strength. Each day Jo leaned more heavily on his evil counterpart, each day his primal urges became more and more pronounced, more out of control. If it were not for By-Tors love of the hunt, Jo would have resorted to simply killing his marks outright, maybe even publicly, and with his bare hands. The young man did not notice that each time he gave into temptation and let By-Tor act through him, the Demon gained a little more control over his soul. Even the Monsters for slowly shifted from a massive wolf, to some sort of humanoid werewolf, eventually becoming a perfect copy of Jo; physically similar, but his aura twisted, and his features more sinister. There were whole days were the Beast was left in control as a weary and weakened Jo lacked the ability or the will to stop him. Tonight, that ended.
It ended when By-Tor felt the burning desire of lust in his loins. It ended when he assaulted Saeko, and tried to take her by force. Had Jo not put every ounce of will in his being into the effort, the Demon might have succeeded. When Jo was finally in control, he found himself standing over Saeko; her clothes torn, her face bruised, her flesh scratched and bleeding. It was not the physical wounds that rent his heart. It was the look in her eyes; a look of fear, distrust, and confusion that tore his heart from his chest. He had never told her about By-Tor. She had noticed the changes, but had only attributed it to the stress he was under. When he reached out for her, she flinched back, shied away from his touch; and it broke his heart. He fell to his knees then and confessed everything; how By-Tor had been inserted into his being by a divinity to save him from death during a mission, how the Beast was the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, and forced him to feel those temptations stronger and more urgently than ever before, how he’d been slowly losing his control over the beast as he relied more and more on its power to try and keep up with the shipwreck that was left of his division, how the Monster inside of him had been in complete control for over a week, and he was almost powerless to stop it. He apologized, and told her he knew apologies meant nothing when such an atrocity had been done. He told her to go to the authorities and have him arrested as a traitor for not registering a Kinjutsu, to stop him from hurting anyone else. He told her to kill him if she must. She threw herself at him then, and he expected pain, and then the sweet embrace of death. He hadn’t expected for her to wrap him in her arms and hug him, to cling to him as if her life depended on it.
He felt shame and disgust; for one such as him did not deserve such unconditional love. He fell into her arms, weeping like a child at the flood of emotions that washed over him as she forgave him. She told him they would work through this together; go to the Sennin first thing in the morning and have By-Tor registered, request a few days of leave so he could regain his strength. She said she would love him forever, come what may. Then By-Tor tried to retake control, and Jo pushed her away. She wasn’t safe with him, no one was safe. He had to get away, far away from anyone he could possibly hurt. He turned and ran, left her kneeling there in the middle of his living room, sobbing for him to come back over the sound of the pouring rain and howling wind.
Jo’s headlong flight through the storm brought him deep into the Ancient Forest. He tore through the underbrush with wild abandon, paying no heed to branches and thorns as the tore his skin. Blinded by rain, blood, and tears, he stumbled and fell as he entered a clearing. Coming to his hands and knees, he crawled through the mud, his breath coming in rough, ragged gasps. He soon found his hand brushing against stone. Jo lifted his head, and saw through bleary eyes a grave marker. Takaki Masao’s grave marker. In his desperate attempt to flee he had stumbled into the Garden of Heroes; graveyard of those who fell in service of the Raikage. For what felt like an eternity Jo simply stared at the empty grave. As consciousness left him, he spoke:
”I… have failed…”
When Jo came to, his head was resting on something soft, and soft hands were brushing his face. The rain was still falling, but someone was leaning over him, shielding him from it. He forced his swollen eyes open and saw Saeko leaning over him. She had his head on her lap, and she was brushing the blood and mud from his face. Her words were soft, her voice thick with tears:
”Please… come back to me… I love you… please don’t leave me… Come back…”
Two months worth of exhaustion had finally caught up with him; and now By-Tor wasn’t doing anything to hold back the pain or give him energy. It took every ounce of his strength to reach his hand up and touch her face, his arm heavy as lead. Her eyes snapped open, and she clutched her hand to his cheek, a brilliant smile breaking through the tears. Jo wanted to tell her what had happened, about the battle with the enemy within. How he’d won control of himself and defeated his primal nature. He wanted to tell her he loved her, and that everything would be all right. What he wanted to do and what he was physically able to do were two different things. All he could do was look into her eyes and smile back before the darkness came over his vision once more.
{MFT: 2221wc}
{Topic Entered and Left Unless Stopped}
{OOC: I’m Back}
The weakening of the Main Branch, along with a dramatic drop in the recruitment of new students, had left everyone who had been in the lower echelons struggling to keep up with their added responsibilities. This was especially true for those who were closest to the ones who were lost. After Masao’s fall, Do Natsu had been promoted to Sennin; but, with a mysterious illness leaving him incapacitated, Hikari had to step up and take charge. Division leaders within the Main Branch had to be shuffled, switched, and reassigned almost at random to keep up with the ever increasing losses caused by the war. One division in particular, the Merces Letifer, had almost ceased to exist; having almost all of its previous members being transferred to lead other divisions who were in need of support. Of all the people in the Merces Letifer who had worked the closest with Sennin Takaki Masao, only one remained; Narashi Jo. The young man had more experience in Special Operations than most ANBU; having been a key member of the team that had taken down the scourge that was the King Slayers terrorist organization, and ended the war. He had been field promoted to Chuunin upon Masao’s assumed death, and was immediately placed at the head of the Merces Letifer as Hand of the Sennin; but, with the rest of the assassination department having been reassigned, Jo was left to pick up the slack. Takaki Masao had been a great leader, and an amazing Shinobi, but he had not done the Merces Letifer any favors by turning it into his own personal strike team. The covert assassination missions that the Merces Letifer was supposed to be infamous for had been put on the back burner in the light of the Kingslayer fiasco, and the resulting war. Now, Jo was left alone to try and clean up a mess for an entire department while still trying to keep up with his duties as the Hand and manage the running of the Couriers department.
It had been two months since he had slept more than an hour or two at his desk in the basement of the Torre. Two months since he had seen Saeko, the love of his life, for more than a brief moment in passing. Two months of slaughtering dozens of marks by means that prevented the world from knowing that Shinobi had anything to do with them, either by disguising them as accidents, or passing the blame onto others. As the days started blurring together, Jo found himself relying more and more on the Demon that resided inside him. By-Tor the hellhound, knight of darkness, Centurion of evil, devil's prince, was more than happy to lend Jo his strength. Each day Jo leaned more heavily on his evil counterpart, each day his primal urges became more and more pronounced, more out of control. If it were not for By-Tors love of the hunt, Jo would have resorted to simply killing his marks outright, maybe even publicly, and with his bare hands. The young man did not notice that each time he gave into temptation and let By-Tor act through him, the Demon gained a little more control over his soul. Even the Monsters for slowly shifted from a massive wolf, to some sort of humanoid werewolf, eventually becoming a perfect copy of Jo; physically similar, but his aura twisted, and his features more sinister. There were whole days were the Beast was left in control as a weary and weakened Jo lacked the ability or the will to stop him. Tonight, that ended.
It ended when By-Tor felt the burning desire of lust in his loins. It ended when he assaulted Saeko, and tried to take her by force. Had Jo not put every ounce of will in his being into the effort, the Demon might have succeeded. When Jo was finally in control, he found himself standing over Saeko; her clothes torn, her face bruised, her flesh scratched and bleeding. It was not the physical wounds that rent his heart. It was the look in her eyes; a look of fear, distrust, and confusion that tore his heart from his chest. He had never told her about By-Tor. She had noticed the changes, but had only attributed it to the stress he was under. When he reached out for her, she flinched back, shied away from his touch; and it broke his heart. He fell to his knees then and confessed everything; how By-Tor had been inserted into his being by a divinity to save him from death during a mission, how the Beast was the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, and forced him to feel those temptations stronger and more urgently than ever before, how he’d been slowly losing his control over the beast as he relied more and more on its power to try and keep up with the shipwreck that was left of his division, how the Monster inside of him had been in complete control for over a week, and he was almost powerless to stop it. He apologized, and told her he knew apologies meant nothing when such an atrocity had been done. He told her to go to the authorities and have him arrested as a traitor for not registering a Kinjutsu, to stop him from hurting anyone else. He told her to kill him if she must. She threw herself at him then, and he expected pain, and then the sweet embrace of death. He hadn’t expected for her to wrap him in her arms and hug him, to cling to him as if her life depended on it.
He felt shame and disgust; for one such as him did not deserve such unconditional love. He fell into her arms, weeping like a child at the flood of emotions that washed over him as she forgave him. She told him they would work through this together; go to the Sennin first thing in the morning and have By-Tor registered, request a few days of leave so he could regain his strength. She said she would love him forever, come what may. Then By-Tor tried to retake control, and Jo pushed her away. She wasn’t safe with him, no one was safe. He had to get away, far away from anyone he could possibly hurt. He turned and ran, left her kneeling there in the middle of his living room, sobbing for him to come back over the sound of the pouring rain and howling wind.
Jo’s headlong flight through the storm brought him deep into the Ancient Forest. He tore through the underbrush with wild abandon, paying no heed to branches and thorns as the tore his skin. Blinded by rain, blood, and tears, he stumbled and fell as he entered a clearing. Coming to his hands and knees, he crawled through the mud, his breath coming in rough, ragged gasps. He soon found his hand brushing against stone. Jo lifted his head, and saw through bleary eyes a grave marker. Takaki Masao’s grave marker. In his desperate attempt to flee he had stumbled into the Garden of Heroes; graveyard of those who fell in service of the Raikage. For what felt like an eternity Jo simply stared at the empty grave. As consciousness left him, he spoke:
”I… have failed…”
When Jo came to, his head was resting on something soft, and soft hands were brushing his face. The rain was still falling, but someone was leaning over him, shielding him from it. He forced his swollen eyes open and saw Saeko leaning over him. She had his head on her lap, and she was brushing the blood and mud from his face. Her words were soft, her voice thick with tears:
”Please… come back to me… I love you… please don’t leave me… Come back…”
Two months worth of exhaustion had finally caught up with him; and now By-Tor wasn’t doing anything to hold back the pain or give him energy. It took every ounce of his strength to reach his hand up and touch her face, his arm heavy as lead. Her eyes snapped open, and she clutched her hand to his cheek, a brilliant smile breaking through the tears. Jo wanted to tell her what had happened, about the battle with the enemy within. How he’d won control of himself and defeated his primal nature. He wanted to tell her he loved her, and that everything would be all right. What he wanted to do and what he was physically able to do were two different things. All he could do was look into her eyes and smile back before the darkness came over his vision once more.
{MFT: 2221wc}
{Topic Entered and Left Unless Stopped}
{OOC: I’m Back}