Private The Storm Lord's Call [Ryuu Tama]

[Kazumi]

The tall muscular man had his face hidden beneath an ANBU mask that bore the demonic visage of an ox's head. It was not subtle, not was it the mask the operative wore when on his regular duties, but to most people its implications were quite clear. "The Storm Lord requests your immediate presence within the Eye of the Storm." The man did not wait for a reply or even an acknowledgement before he bolted away with surprising speed for a man of his stature.

The Eye of the Storm was the name given to the main meeting chambers that lay within the Oushi-Ouja compound, one of the smallest of the Toraono Branch clans. Even so, the compound spanned nearly a hundred buildings, all of which were cast from simple stone and were among the oldest that persisted from the earliest days of the village. Even if Tama was not familiar with the area, the Eye was not difficult to find. Even compared to the few large barracks, the home of the Storm Lord towered over them all.

Curved black spikes jutted from the roof of the building, resembling the horns of an oxen near its entrance. The door stood tall enough for a being of twice Tama's height to easily make it within the metallic gates that parted upon his arrival, the single burly giard keeping a firm eye on the doctor as he approached. It appeared as if he was in the right place, or else the Oushi-Ouja were exceedingly hospitable to random visitors, but the form look that the clansman gave him as he passed made that difficult to believe.

Tama would pass through a few sparsely decorated rooms and passages before he made his way towards the central chamber, which looked as grand in scale as the Toraono Throne, though conservatively decorated. Sitting atop the throne in the center was a black and purple garbed man, his white hair pulled back behind his head in careful braids that captured each and every wisp of his aging hair. Two thick curved horns protruded up from his head, faint lines of energy sparking between them with every few breaths. The man's stony visage barely noticed the newcomer as another guard posted outside the halls closed the final metal door loudly behind the shinobi.

"Ryuu Tama," the man spoke, his words slow, deep and calm. "I am pleased you answered my summons with such haste. You are truly as wise as the shadows whisper." His voice seemed to resonate with unquestionable authority around the room, with each word carrying the weight of the ages wit them. Still seated from his thone, Nabushin leaned forward slightly, his brow furrowing faintly as the many lines of age bunched atop his grey-white brow.

 

[Toraono Michino]

The doctor was having a paper day.
Paper day was the one lone date of every month, usually near the end, that he sat down at his desk and began to preform the long and arduous task of signing his names on a bunch of patient forms and approvals for his next month of upcoming surgeries. It was a day he very much hated as it required him to put far more attention into it than he did on even a normal day of surgery. Each packet he reviewed were sent in by either other doctors who couldn’t handle the case or by Sunans themselves requiring his assistance. At first he had been more than happy to sign over his help to those who desired it, the swelling of his pride controlling his brain on that day, but after a month of back-to-back surgeries - most of which could of easily been preformed by others - the scientist was tired. The next following month was going to be a lot easier on him to give him some time to focus on a couple of new personal projects. It was rare that someone would approach him for his personal hand, and not what he was legally allowed to do in the confines of the hospital. On top of that he now had an opportunity to expand on his on-going research into Ancients and Hybrids which only came usually once a decade.
It was hour six of signing papers and only the Kami knew how many pots of coffee, when suddenly there was a visitor in his office. Now this wasn’t unusual except that Tama had no idea of when the guy got here, the large person was wearing an oxen-like ANBU mask, and that he was suddenly being asked to visit the Toraono’s gigantic complex of schools and homes. Before the doctor could get a word out the gigantic man flashed out through a blessedly open window, the speed of his exit causing a small vacuum of air to explode and scatter all the paperwork the doctor had organized into the air. His left eye twitched.
Reaching his hands up, he held his left palm flat as if pushing against an invisible surface while his right wrote an arcane language into the air. Curling the left into a fist and then back open caused all of the papers to stop in the air. Twirling his right index finger in a counter clock-wise fashion the papers all began to reorganize themselves as they had been seconds ago before he was rudely invited to court with the Oushi-Ouja. Standing up with a maddening calm the doctor strode over to the coat hanger to remove his signature lab jacket from the peg and then vanish as he stopped time in repeated intervals of 3 seconds to speed himself to the location.

Finding the Eye of the Storm was a lot easier than he had been betting on. While most of his brother’s family lived inside of the large complex, it seemed that the Storm Lord preferred a smaller, though still big in its own respect, compound off the main Dojo. The scientist’s time skips had stopped and where normally it would of taken a well trained militant at least twenty minutes to travel from the hospital to the Dojo, Tama had managed to cut that down to five; of course, it helped that unlike most people he didn’t travel by foot.
The wind gently caressing its master floated the scientist down to the front of the Oushi-Ouja entrance like some sort of ninja Jesus after appearing out of thin air. The guard there gave him the old, ‘We don’t normally allow strangers in so behave,’ look and the mad scientist responded with his usual; a rude gesture made by his middle left finger as he strolled in far too casually.
Hands tucked behind his back the 5’5’’ mad scientist walked through the Storm Lord’s home without any hesitation. His chakra kept at a steady flowing calm as he touched the walls here and there when no one was looking, placing little marks that would let him know the coming and goings of everyone leading up to his destination. Years of people wanting his death had created a man who was more than happy to set up preparation no matter how much of a faux pas it would be considered. Once he was lead into the main chamber where his host sat upon a large throne not unlike the Bone, Tama looked around and nodded with a satisfied face; it was about how he imagined. With the lacking grace of his ilk despite having such a mastery over something like the wind, the seemingly young man strode up to Nabushin and released a single hand from behind his back. He rose it to the air and twirled it before crossing one leg behind the other and giving a proper grand bow; though his aura was sheer mockery.

“You called, your Grace?” the Hybrid asked as his dual colored pupils raised up with cat like curiosity as to why someone like Nabushin wanted something a monster like him.

 

[Kazumi]

The ancient man let out a low grave scoff of what might be amusement, though his face remained as stoic and determined as before. “Perhaps not…” He raised his hand and purposefully brushed away the thought. The elder paused and rested his hand back down onto the arm of his chair, seeming to examine the other in silent contemplation. The moments stretched on for a while before the man eventually spoke once more. “What do you know of the heiress of the Storm Throne? I am quite familiar that she wasted a great deal of her time working at the medical facility.” This was one of his earlier regrets when trying to train the young girl.

It had seemed prudent, at the time, to have the girl establish a positive presence in the community but it had greatly detracted from the time she had needed to spend tutoring on her actual shinobi arts. Now what did the girl show for it? Nothing, of course. She had the drive and determination to be a great leader of the clan, but he had let her squander that potential on pointless ends. Ends that she had very little aptitude for in the first place, it would seem. The fact that she was wasting away in the Oushi-Ouja recovery facilities was testament to that much and was the very reason that he had to summon this criminal to his presence in the first place.

He would wait a time to allow Tama the chance to speak before he continued, “her survival is the reason that you have been summoned here and stand before me without the shackles that you deserve.” All of the rumors of the Storm Lord were not exaggerated, as he charged brazenly forth into any conversation he had, attempting to knock the opponent off their feet and pin them to the ground while he got what he wanted. “As she is, she is not fit for the mantle that she shall inherit.” Once again he paused, giving Tama an unrelenting stare, as if he were measuring the weight of his soul. Seconds of silence passed before he continued, seeming to approve of whatever he saw in the man.

“More traditional means have proven to have little success. The most competent of the medical shinobi within the clan are unsure of the details of her condition, and she has been unable to speak for months.” The muscles in his arms tightened as he gripped the arms of his chair, slowly pushing his massive frame to stand. Standing at the top of the dais as he did, he towered over the doctor at twice the man’s height, and even as he slowly stepped down, his footfalls reverberating within the stone chamber, he still stood feet taller. “Alternatives have presented themselves, but I will not have the throne sullied by darkness as the Toraono have or by the monstrosities of the Steward.”

Nabushin brushed past the man as if his presence went unnoticed, stepping closer towards the center of the large chamber. “You are to fix the girl and make her suitable for the title she will soon wear.” The man’s step faltered for a moment, as if the specter of age suddenly weighed down centuries on his shoulders. It only took a moment for the wave of weakness to pass, but its effects were unmistakable. Even if Tama began to speak, the Storm Lord would continue speaking with renewed vigor. “For all that you are, of which I know plenty, I believe you are one of the few within the country who can provide this, without resorting to demonic bindings or other unnatural blasphemies.” He took a few more steps, paused as he stared off towards the far wall and stated in a flat and commanding tone, “have I made myself clear?”

 

[Toraono Michino]

“Aye, I know her,” was Tama’s only reply, a cocky smirk still curling the corners of his mouth.

The man before the scientist was clearly a prideful being, one that demanded honor and respect above all else. The way Nabushin carried his tone and glare, even as he spoke of his sickly heir, didn’t waver even in the slightest. Tama could already feel a bit of respect for the leader, given his own levels of unwavering pride, but also this wasn’t going to be a simple house call. The doctor kept his hands tucked behind his back, calmly, even as the clan leader lifted his massive form from his throne and strode down towards the center of the room. As he walked past the surgeon stepped out of Nabushin’s way, following ever so slightly behind as he demanded Tama simply be compliant. The man wanted the arcanist to preform outside of the legality of the hospital, this was clear, but was also asking quit more than most dared.
The prideful giant was commanding that not only the scientist drop everything and work exclusively on Suzume, but that he had to do it with a set of limitations. While working around grafting Sousuke’s inventions to a human was strenuous, the results were abundantly clear - they worked. The Takahashi were nothing if not geniuses when it came to creating mechanical replacements for the human body, and Tama was a master at grafting them. He had even created an eye for Sousuke once himself so it wasn’t out of his reach either, yet Nabushin refused the mechanical aid. He had also ruled out the drawing of demons for strength, much like his brother Michino used, and to some extent he could see the logic in that. Aside from having never played around the Youkai before, Tama wasn’t normally one to cash in on chaos he couldn’t control to some aspect. The doctor’s mind was already working out other methods he could use, recovery time, ect, but most of it was going to be freehand without first knowing more about the heir’s condition. Of course, he was thinking of all of this while already planning to flat out refuse. The man had no hold over him, and doubt he had anything that he could offer the criminal in exchange for his immediate services. Nabushin only seemed to seal that conclusion by demanding the doctor get to work right now.
The cocky smirk soon became a grin, a giggle, and then a full laugh that the doctor had to cover his mouth with in order to feign some sort of politeness in his mockery. The balls on this man was almost enough to make him simply go along with this on a whim as it was literally the first person to ever demand anything of him. Even with the Steward, that man asked Tama first even knowing full well the Hybrid would do anything for him without question.

“Absolutely not,” the surgeon said as his mirth suddenly dropped into a dead seriousness, “You interrupt my work, demand my presence, and command me to help someone I barely know? For what? Your pride? Old Ox, as far as I’m concerned, Suzume’s death would simply be one less person against my brother on his ridiculous quest to oversee the Toraono Clan. So, exactly what makes you believe that you can insult me so and still walk out of this room alive? Go on, you have a few seconds…”
Tama slowly began to walk towards Nabushin, his eyes brimming with both genuine curiosity and murder.

 

[Kazumi]

The mountain’s expression was as firm and cold as the stone around them as Tama broke into laughter and proudly declared his defiance. This was expected, of course. Nabushin was a man who deserved great respect, for his age, his position and his own power. Still, the grass beneath the ox’s feet does not sway or bend as its master approached; it must be crushed under hoof. “Hmph…” he scoffed, showing a brief sign of amusement as he continued to tower over the doctor. “The only soul that bears insults here is you, plague doctor.” The man’s mouth cracked into a small knowing grin as he drew out the last words.

The man paused a few moments longer, seeing if there was a reaction from the man before he continued. “I am providing you a great honor by allowing you to ingratiate yourself to the Oushi-Ouja clan by ensuring the survival and success of its future heir. Most would throw themselves to the sands and beg for such an honor.” Nabushin’s grin faded, but he continued, “I had expected your lack of enthusiasm, though I doubt that your mind has already begun to spin possibilities together as your kind do.” Once again the man stepped forward and simply moved to walk past Tama, stepping up the stairs of the dais to his throne once more.

“Should your results exceed my expectations for your work, you will be allowed to ask a boon of the Storm Lord. If it is within my power and does not work in favor of my direct interests, it shall be granted to you, with as much or little discretion as I desire.” He had a few ideas of what the good doctor might request, according to his sources, and not all of them were things that he would wish to be directly associated with, but sacrifices must be made to ensure the survival of the clan, a fact Nabushin knew all too well.

The Storm Lord turned and slowly sat himself down upon his throne once more. “Now, allow me to ask you once again. Have I made myself clear to you, plague doctor?”

 

[Toraono Michino]

Tama hesitated. His murder walk stopped a mere two feet away from Nabushin, the very moment he said plague. The murder in his eyes grew in a full blown rage as he felt the cage of his past sins lock around him. This was clearly a man who knew too much.
Everyone knew that the doctor wasn’t a ‘clean’ personality. There was a trial, he had attacked the Steward, and in the fallout of his empire that he brought about himself, a slew of certain secrets were uncovered by ANBU. Of the number of horrible things kept cataloged in the book they recovered, only three of them made it to the trail. The rest was buried, deep, because they knew if the populace found how exactly how much they had allowed Tama to get away with in his time ruling the Underground it would be sheer anarchy. The worst part was that this book was something he had allowed their deep investigation branch to find in order to distract from a few slightly more awful things he had also done that didn’t need a lot of evidence to connect him to. Things such as research on a kidnapped child who was half blooded with Youkai heritage, a handful of super weapons lost in abandoned labs strewn across Sunagakure, or the horrible experiments he preformed on the feeble in the Underground to further tap into Hybrids and the Ancient Courts’ secrets. While the last of those three could be blamed on Akkuma for reasons, the first two were barely kept secrets that could actually do far worse damage to his already shaky reputation. However the one secret that ANBU buried that could destroy his career should it actually get out was the first and last time he played around with biological weapons.
Created from a mix of the common flu and an infectious disease found in mishandled carmot, the scientist very nearly recreated the Red Fever by sheer accident. It wiped out half of the Underground population and took a far smaller toll on the healthier above. Tests showed that the virus was man-made but no one was ever able to link it back to anyone until Tama was caught and the book discovered. The fact that the Storm Lord was willing to use even that to force the doctor’s hand brought about no short amount of hatred from the Hybrid in this man’s court. Outside dark clouds began to form and twist over the Oushi-Ouja’s estate as cold winds began to swirl inside of the sealed chamber. They shifted the sparse decorations around the room as the scientist clenched his hands into fists, allowing the man to brush past him once more without the retaliation he promised.

“I have gone many decades without the need for political favor, Nabushin. I have no need of your boons yet, you continue to push my hand. You know of things that, if spoken by the right people, would ruin my career and very well threaten to use them against me. I could still refuse, your daughter would die, and I would no longer have a reason to continue playing nice with Sunagakure. Since that would be the case, it’d be nothing for me to also lay you down to rest before a heir can be selected, and just barely, you have the upper hand.
“The sheer fact that my pride continues to push me to work with what little loved ones I have left is all that saves you today, Nabushin,” the scientist turned to face the man, clearly furious, but tempered,
“I’ll do as you request but, only on a single condition. Since we both have each other firmly by the groin, allow me to seal it. I will do everything in my power to return Suzume to, not only a healthy form, but one that is pure and powerful. Something you can finally be proud of. In exchange,” his eyes narrowed, “You throw your entire clan’s support behind Toraono Michino. Not just to help him win the favor to be elected as the next Toraono Head, but to keep him fully from the threats of anyone else vying for his position or power. Take it or leave it.”
Tama shoved his hand inside of his lab jacket’s pockets, waiting for the response. The sooner the Ox King agreed the quicker he would leave and get started on collecting information on Suzume’s condition with all he’d have to go through to fulfill his end of the bargain. ‘Pure’ meant he could strike off about two-thirds of his procedures as most of them fell into the realm of either forbidden or abomination. He was going to have to break open the Secret Tomes back home from the get-go and hoped that her condition mirrored his old one in some way. If it did, he could handle the promise made no problem, and would have huge political favor from two for Suna’s major clans - the Toraono and the Takahashi. Of course the idea of his political power matching his physical was the last thing on his mind. Demanding the Ousha-Ouja fully back the Toraono was simply the pettiest thing Tama could think of.

 

[Kazumi]

“Your arrogance is one of your most frustrating and endearing traits, doctor” The soney faced man offered Tama fragment of an amused smile. “You are not the first nor the last option at my disposal, but you are the one I am currently considering the most. It is still amusing that you would consider cutting short the litle time I have remaining in exchange for the decades you may have, if you keep your head clear.” Nabushin drummed his thick fingers on the stone arm of the throne as he pondered something. “She is also not my daughter, she is a daughter of the clan and she is not my last option.”

He let that sit in the air for a few moments, the air between them seeming to go frigid in the space of a few heartbeats. “Make no mistake, you are the only one here who is without options. Do not delude youself otherwise.” Whatever traces there were of a smile on the wrinkled face vanished completely, “while it would set my clan and the village back, should you betray what fragments of trust you still hold close, it would be only a setback. For you, it would be the end.” Whether Tama was consciously affecting the air or not, he could feel it continuing to shift within his grasp as his breaths became small visible puffs between his lips.

He allowed Tama the time to provide his conditions, the Storm Lord's face not betraying a single twitch of surprise at its outlandish nature. “Done.” He said with an air of finality, the single word reverberating within the frigid hall. “I will provide my support towards establishing the cripple into that throne, and will provide what support I can provide to keep him alive after the fact.” With this, the Storm Lord di break into a smile, but it did not appear smug or sinister but almost grandfatherly. “Michino will sit upon the stone for whatever days he has remaining.”

He had no qualms with the boy taking the position for himself. Compared to Lord Kuro, he was but a weak and feeble cripple in Nabushin’s eyes, and the weakening of the Throne of Bone was nothing but a benefit to the Storm Lord’s aspirations. He bore no hatred for the Toraono, but they had grown complacent over the past decades. Once, Lord Kuro was a fearsome sight to behold and held the clan and even the village together with fang and claw, but now he was but a shadow of his former glory, as was the rest of the clan.

“One of my attendants will escort you to her chambers. I trust she will be up and recovered within the month.” It was not a realistic expecation, and he would not bring the axe down upon the doctor should he fail the steep timeline, but it was always good give people a looming deadline, real or imagined. “The guards have already been notified to expect you and the notes of the prior examiners have been prepared.” It would seem that his compliance had already been a foreone conclusion even before he arrived, which made it all the more curious as to what could have befallen the medinin should he have had the audacity to decline.

He raised his hand and gestured for the man to leave. “Ah,” he said, as if having an afterthought, “you will speak of this to no one. While not damning as the secrets you hold chained to your soul, I would prefer if your activities here were kept from the common ear. People may ask questions, and questions quickly spreda to rumor do they not? Before long, those rumors could infect the city, even if unintentional. I am sure you have learned better than to let that happen again.. You are dismissed.” The sound of metal and srone grinding open reverberated through the chamber as the large doors opened at the entrance to the Eye of the Storm, two large guards holding the door open for Tama to make his departure.

 

[Toraono Michino]

The doctor didn’t care if Suzume was the man’s daughter or not, and knowing now that she wasn’t didn’t change the facts already laid out. The giant claimed a lot of things. Other doctors he could use, other heirs to ascend his throne, but if these were the case why bother risking sullying himself with Tama’s hands? It didn’t add up, and the Storm Lord’s confidence that the scientist’s betrayal of the village would only set things back confirmed his suspicions. Either the man was a fool and really believed everything he said, or he was a really good liar; it was impossible to tell with certain ANBU.
Should Tama walk away from the village he had more than enough resources to rebuild his criminal empire. His whole reason for staying in Sunagakure was purely for a woman who didn’t love him, and to pretend he was something other than what he had proved to be. Even with his boiling prideful anger was near its cap, seeing the elder believe in his own ignorance so much drained it. There was a part of the Hybrid that felt sorry for the old asshole, knowing that his time was indeed far closer than his own.
Nabushin agreed to assist his brother’s ascension to the throne, jumped at it even, and proved again how much the older generation were still underestimating the young. Even Tama wouldn’t wish a serious fight with Michino, having seen exactly the power and stubbornness that Toraono was capable of. The Ox King was getting what he wanted, and to that the surgeon respected, but he had no idea the cost he was paying. Demonkin lived far longer than humans did, and he was going to make sure Suzume was as normal as possible.

“One week, starting in twelve hours,” Tama growled as he abruptly turned and began to walk towards the opening doors. There was a number of surgeries he was scheduled to preform already, and he couldn’t devote his entire month to just Suzume with a few off-record projects already in the works. He was removing his jacket as he walked, watching for the servant that would bring him to the girl he was to cure, when Nabushin added one last criteria for the deal,
“Get it in writing then,” he responded to the leader’s demand for privacy before shoving his balled up coat into one of the large guard’s hands, “and I suggest you make up an excuse as to why I was here today, following information for a far more accessible entrance that prying eyes won’t see.”
Tucking his hands behind his back once more, Tama walked out until he was greeted by an attendant who took his lead.

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