"I am always striving to become stronger for my village. I am the calm before the storm. The cold feeling before the final strike. Glory to Kumogakure and its allies."
Yuii snorted to herself as she overlooked the little pamphlet in her hand. The saying has been created by Kumo's government for its combatant, Rikutsuchi Miraku's use. When he'd been picked from amongst 'the nine' combatants of their country, the words had been printed on everything. Such was the propaganda of the village of Cloud: they liked to make heroes of their best, pile expectations and hopes on their shoulders. Replay the fights, show off the stats, take bets, create dreams, waive promises under their noses.
And for what?
Only one of them could win after all. Only one could become the champion- or none. That was the danger of having such grand expectations for men who were fighting the best across the world. What was perfect, strong and exemplary in Cloud could be torn apart by the darker parts of the world. Afterall, Kumogakure did a fine job of keeping the evils out, and the mutation limited homegrown monsters; and it was making them soft.
She didn't know Miraku, she'd never trained with him, completed missions with him; he wasn't even in her branch, but she pitied him. Whatever the outcome of the battle before her, he would win nothing. Being a hero for Kumo meant being trapped forever more in the propaganda living the life they wanted you to show. If he lost, he would be amongst the failures, they would tear his every action apart. Already she'd heard words about her husband's fight- their best hope. And worst of all, she would have to stand by and watch it happen, because it wasn't a sennin's place to interfere with such affairs. Even their kindly Raikage, the reputed most powerful man in Kumogakure and holder of a seat on the council of eleven moons could not change their fates without consequence. Such was the power of the council.
The kunoichi wished it could have been different and wondered if it was for other lands. What stakes did Miraku's opponent have? What had driven him to be there, and what would he have to lose? A mercenary, she'd heard, but what did that mean? Did he simply have a drink and return to whatever hole he lived his life in when this was all done? How was that fair?
Yuii crushed the paper into a ball and stuffed it into her pocket. The crowd had filled the stand quickly for this battle, as they had all over. This time Yuii had been early and carved herself a spot a mere five rows back; close enough to smell the perfume of the rich and powerful who commanded the closer stands. She had also dressed lightly this time, finding a thin, shorter than she'd ever worn Yukata in greys-blues and black silk that felt and looked like moonlight to wear. Umeko, as always, was nestled to her side, half asleep in her mother's care.
The children were attached to Hoshi, he was one of their own after all, and Kaji was a great commander of the anbu, but Rikutsuchi Miraku? An unknown, a man who was not youngest or oldest to fight. A man's who's odds were hard to pin. A man who could win or lose; no one knew. He deserved to be witnessed.
So far, it was anyone's fight, but lady luck had seen fit to hit Raku with a solid blow. She could only hope he would pull though.
Or lose.
Yuii wasn't certain of her feelings anymore.
Yuii snorted to herself as she overlooked the little pamphlet in her hand. The saying has been created by Kumo's government for its combatant, Rikutsuchi Miraku's use. When he'd been picked from amongst 'the nine' combatants of their country, the words had been printed on everything. Such was the propaganda of the village of Cloud: they liked to make heroes of their best, pile expectations and hopes on their shoulders. Replay the fights, show off the stats, take bets, create dreams, waive promises under their noses.
And for what?
Only one of them could win after all. Only one could become the champion- or none. That was the danger of having such grand expectations for men who were fighting the best across the world. What was perfect, strong and exemplary in Cloud could be torn apart by the darker parts of the world. Afterall, Kumogakure did a fine job of keeping the evils out, and the mutation limited homegrown monsters; and it was making them soft.
She didn't know Miraku, she'd never trained with him, completed missions with him; he wasn't even in her branch, but she pitied him. Whatever the outcome of the battle before her, he would win nothing. Being a hero for Kumo meant being trapped forever more in the propaganda living the life they wanted you to show. If he lost, he would be amongst the failures, they would tear his every action apart. Already she'd heard words about her husband's fight- their best hope. And worst of all, she would have to stand by and watch it happen, because it wasn't a sennin's place to interfere with such affairs. Even their kindly Raikage, the reputed most powerful man in Kumogakure and holder of a seat on the council of eleven moons could not change their fates without consequence. Such was the power of the council.
The kunoichi wished it could have been different and wondered if it was for other lands. What stakes did Miraku's opponent have? What had driven him to be there, and what would he have to lose? A mercenary, she'd heard, but what did that mean? Did he simply have a drink and return to whatever hole he lived his life in when this was all done? How was that fair?
Yuii crushed the paper into a ball and stuffed it into her pocket. The crowd had filled the stand quickly for this battle, as they had all over. This time Yuii had been early and carved herself a spot a mere five rows back; close enough to smell the perfume of the rich and powerful who commanded the closer stands. She had also dressed lightly this time, finding a thin, shorter than she'd ever worn Yukata in greys-blues and black silk that felt and looked like moonlight to wear. Umeko, as always, was nestled to her side, half asleep in her mother's care.
The children were attached to Hoshi, he was one of their own after all, and Kaji was a great commander of the anbu, but Rikutsuchi Miraku? An unknown, a man who was not youngest or oldest to fight. A man's who's odds were hard to pin. A man who could win or lose; no one knew. He deserved to be witnessed.
So far, it was anyone's fight, but lady luck had seen fit to hit Raku with a solid blow. She could only hope he would pull though.
Or lose.
Yuii wasn't certain of her feelings anymore.