When Izura started his journey, he trekked through the mountains, their presence towering and ever present during the three days of walking, the blue glass of the sky marred by flecks of swirling ash, like vultures waiting for their next meal. Now, as Izura staggered toward the winding dunes of sand, the sky opened up, returning to that clear, blue glass reflection that he knew so well from his travels in the past. It had been a whole seven years. Seven years since the beginning of his stasis. Seven years since the fight with the samurai, outnumbered beyond belief before he was fatally stabbed through the heart. He was a relic of the past. A living ghost of sorts. A man with little purpose other than to continue his meaningless existence as a shinobi, and fade into the annals of history.
Izura continued, the long days of trekking through the desert causing him to start to feel as if the days themselves were blurring together. The vast expanse of the desert looking almost eerily similar, no matter where you were. It almost felt like one was walking in circles, somehow. He’d camp every night, concealing himself under the sands of the desert to avoid detection, and the signs were steady- he was getting closer to his mark. The unmistakeable trail of a group headed towards Sunagakure. The caravan’s footprints left telltale signs of how many people were in the party, and how much cargo they had brought along. It wouldn’t be long, Izura surmised, before he’d find them.
He dreamt soundly, the night marking yet another closing of the day in the week spent finding his quarry. He’d find the kidnapped people, if it was the last thing he’d do.
And thus his dream began.
A man named Izura raced through the moonlit forest, feeling his heart pounding in his ears and hearing leaves crunch beneath his footfalls.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw his pursuer, a woman with tears streaming down her face.
“Come back!”
He knew her, he was sure. But how? The look in her eyes was a mixture of desperation and a vague feeling he once knew as love.
Love?
Not love. Thirst…for blood. Her appearance- he knew her as Kaguya Kirien. The girl who vowed to never see him again. The girl who had deemed him a traitor.
He pushed himself harder. Suddenly the ground disappeared beneath him.
Falling…unconsciousness.
Izura awakened and adjusted his eyes to the darkness, activating his sharingan. He found himself in an old shrine.
Why underground? he thought.
A symbol hung on the wall to his right. A jashinist symbol, it seemed. The mark of the evil god, maleficent and ominous as usual.
T-this mark….where have I ended up?, he thought.
“Izura-kun! Are you okay?”
He saw her outline in the hole 300 feet above him. Why was she pursuing him with such kind words and good intent? Nevermind. He had to get away from her. She was a reminder of past regrets. Of past sorrow.
He jumped to his feet. A sharp pain shot through his leg, but he had to push through it.
“Don’t listen to it!”
Listen to what?
He raced deeper into the darkness. His lungs burned. She would be the violent death of him. He could still remember their voices.
“You betrayed the village.” “You don’t belong with us anymore.” “Traitor.”
But then those heartfelt words. The words of the woman he never saw again. They reverberated in his mind. A tinge of regret, perhaps? Perhaps it truly was…
“I love you!”
He froze. A soft hand was on his shoulder, and his skin burned beneath it.
He turned. A smile crossed her face. She was beautiful and terrifying.
How did she…
Her hand gently held his. A mixture of anger and confusion coursed through him. He knew he should be running, but he couldn’t. He both wanted to stay with her and wanted away from her. How long before she drained him of life? Joined the accusing party that called him a traitor in earnest?
Though his skinned burned at her touch, he felt trapped by her voice. Soft…soothing.
“You know me. I’m not the one to run from. I’m here to rescue you.”
Rescue?
Feeling a renewed sense of strength, he pushed her away from him. Her head slammed into the wall, and she crumpled to the ground. A pool of liquid surrounded her head.
She was dead?
Relief washed over him. He walked away from her.
He was free.
“I know you’re in there, Izura-kun. I’m here to bring you out.”
His heart was pounding, his head blazing. He felt like he was dying.
How? She was dead, I’m sure of it.
He turned. There she stood, unharmed. She held out her hand.
Run. I should run.
She’s beautiful and she’s alive.
She’s hideous and wants me dead.
“I need you,” he heard himself say. “I’m so sorry.”
Why did he just say that?
He reached out for her hand. With one touch it felt like something that had been blinding him fell from his eyes.
She was beautiful. Of course. How could he forget? She had married him and given her life to him and for him.
He threw his arms around her and held her tight…..and then ran her through with a kunai.
The genjutsu dispelled, Izura glaring at a robed figure. The sound of a slow clap, escalating into a rapid crescendo of clapping.
“Well done, Uchiha. You managed to break our genjutsu- one that took several days of careful planning to succeed in performing. It is a testament to your skill and power.”
The hooded figure lowered her hood, revealing herself as a member of the Jashinist cult, a pendant with Jashin’s symbol carefully placed around her neck in a perfect centerline.
He was in some sort of cave, and he noticed that the missing people were here too- unconscious in the corner and tied up- no doubt in preparation for some sick ritual. He surged forward in an instant, attempting to stab the Jashinist woman. But to no avail. Her body came undone in a splash of water- a water clone, to be exact. Her ominous voice could be heard, as her presence left the cave. “Consider yourself lucky, Uchiha. We will retreat for now, as we cannot take you here, but we will hunt you. And you will die. For it is the will of Jashin.”
Izura glared, but then sighed in relief, as it seemed that she had left the cave. He released the missing persons from their genjutsu trances, leading them out of the cave and back towards Iwagakure. Izura had won for now, but who knew what the future held in store?
WC 1139
Izura continued, the long days of trekking through the desert causing him to start to feel as if the days themselves were blurring together. The vast expanse of the desert looking almost eerily similar, no matter where you were. It almost felt like one was walking in circles, somehow. He’d camp every night, concealing himself under the sands of the desert to avoid detection, and the signs were steady- he was getting closer to his mark. The unmistakeable trail of a group headed towards Sunagakure. The caravan’s footprints left telltale signs of how many people were in the party, and how much cargo they had brought along. It wouldn’t be long, Izura surmised, before he’d find them.
He dreamt soundly, the night marking yet another closing of the day in the week spent finding his quarry. He’d find the kidnapped people, if it was the last thing he’d do.
And thus his dream began.
A man named Izura raced through the moonlit forest, feeling his heart pounding in his ears and hearing leaves crunch beneath his footfalls.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw his pursuer, a woman with tears streaming down her face.
“Come back!”
He knew her, he was sure. But how? The look in her eyes was a mixture of desperation and a vague feeling he once knew as love.
Love?
Not love. Thirst…for blood. Her appearance- he knew her as Kaguya Kirien. The girl who vowed to never see him again. The girl who had deemed him a traitor.
He pushed himself harder. Suddenly the ground disappeared beneath him.
Falling…unconsciousness.
Izura awakened and adjusted his eyes to the darkness, activating his sharingan. He found himself in an old shrine.
Why underground? he thought.
A symbol hung on the wall to his right. A jashinist symbol, it seemed. The mark of the evil god, maleficent and ominous as usual.
T-this mark….where have I ended up?, he thought.
“Izura-kun! Are you okay?”
He saw her outline in the hole 300 feet above him. Why was she pursuing him with such kind words and good intent? Nevermind. He had to get away from her. She was a reminder of past regrets. Of past sorrow.
He jumped to his feet. A sharp pain shot through his leg, but he had to push through it.
“Don’t listen to it!”
Listen to what?
He raced deeper into the darkness. His lungs burned. She would be the violent death of him. He could still remember their voices.
“You betrayed the village.” “You don’t belong with us anymore.” “Traitor.”
But then those heartfelt words. The words of the woman he never saw again. They reverberated in his mind. A tinge of regret, perhaps? Perhaps it truly was…
“I love you!”
He froze. A soft hand was on his shoulder, and his skin burned beneath it.
He turned. A smile crossed her face. She was beautiful and terrifying.
How did she…
Her hand gently held his. A mixture of anger and confusion coursed through him. He knew he should be running, but he couldn’t. He both wanted to stay with her and wanted away from her. How long before she drained him of life? Joined the accusing party that called him a traitor in earnest?
Though his skinned burned at her touch, he felt trapped by her voice. Soft…soothing.
“You know me. I’m not the one to run from. I’m here to rescue you.”
Rescue?
Feeling a renewed sense of strength, he pushed her away from him. Her head slammed into the wall, and she crumpled to the ground. A pool of liquid surrounded her head.
She was dead?
Relief washed over him. He walked away from her.
He was free.
“I know you’re in there, Izura-kun. I’m here to bring you out.”
His heart was pounding, his head blazing. He felt like he was dying.
How? She was dead, I’m sure of it.
He turned. There she stood, unharmed. She held out her hand.
Run. I should run.
She’s beautiful and she’s alive.
She’s hideous and wants me dead.
“I need you,” he heard himself say. “I’m so sorry.”
Why did he just say that?
He reached out for her hand. With one touch it felt like something that had been blinding him fell from his eyes.
She was beautiful. Of course. How could he forget? She had married him and given her life to him and for him.
He threw his arms around her and held her tight…..and then ran her through with a kunai.
The genjutsu dispelled, Izura glaring at a robed figure. The sound of a slow clap, escalating into a rapid crescendo of clapping.
“Well done, Uchiha. You managed to break our genjutsu- one that took several days of careful planning to succeed in performing. It is a testament to your skill and power.”
The hooded figure lowered her hood, revealing herself as a member of the Jashinist cult, a pendant with Jashin’s symbol carefully placed around her neck in a perfect centerline.
He was in some sort of cave, and he noticed that the missing people were here too- unconscious in the corner and tied up- no doubt in preparation for some sick ritual. He surged forward in an instant, attempting to stab the Jashinist woman. But to no avail. Her body came undone in a splash of water- a water clone, to be exact. Her ominous voice could be heard, as her presence left the cave. “Consider yourself lucky, Uchiha. We will retreat for now, as we cannot take you here, but we will hunt you. And you will die. For it is the will of Jashin.”
Izura glared, but then sighed in relief, as it seemed that she had left the cave. He released the missing persons from their genjutsu trances, leading them out of the cave and back towards Iwagakure. Izura had won for now, but who knew what the future held in store?
WC 1139