Private Yamigakure calls

[Myakashi Migoya]

​

A wry smile crept its way across a porcelain white face, a wisp of unblemished white hair dancing before it in the waterfall-driven wind. The lone figure, accompanied by a small wooden puppet, crossed the narrow bridge and looked upon his clans hidden homeland.

Yamigakure. The village hidden in darkness.

Although sunrise had hit the land of Moon, light did not tend to make it to this small hidden valley, nestled on the mountainside of Mount Tsukigari. The Myakashi had taken over what had remained of an old monastery dedicated to Raiden, and with the use of chakra dug into the mountainside, created a small village of less than 100 people. The constant darkness had made it difficult to cultivate crops, but the presence of those skilled in Yamanaka techniques thanks to Doku and his kin had overcome these difficulties, cultivating numerous plants that thrived in the darkness. A water channel had been carved since Migoya had arrived several years ago, brining mountain-fresh water to the small village - something the old sage Hisao had devised. Each of his old brothers had contributed to the growth of this village, and now it thrived. It was self-sufficent, running on an electrical system part water generated and part... well, zombie generated. Security was tighter than a ducks behind, the ever-resent shadows along with the highly trained guards and tsukumogami spirits ensuring that no-one could enter without permission. Several buildings had sprung up since Migoya had left, with various industries taking place - most to do with the shinobi arts. Herbologists, weapon smiths, scroll-makers - each had their trade and craft and sought to excel in it.

The guards had not believed that he would return, after all he had been gone for years, along with all the founding members of the clan. It had been Mikki however that had proven Migoya's identity, as the puppet was extremely well known to everyone in the village, and wouldn't be with anyone else. The guards had also verified his identity and allowed him passage. Soon, word was passed to the village that Myakashi Migoya had indeed returned.

An old woman, bent over with age but eyes sparkling with undeniable wisdom, was the first to call out Migoya's name. "Migoya-sama... you return." A warm smile was her greeting from the armoured shinobi. She shuffled over, her face stern as if she knew exactly what was going on.

"Why?"

A warm embrace followed, for indeed this was his family and he had returned home.

[Country Entered]

​

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

His eyes, so much like his fathers - well, exactly like his fathers, stared at him with undisguised rage as he gasped at air like a dying man.

“Again”.

The sharp sound of flesh striking stone repeatedly contrasted with the serene nature of this man-made oasis. A large pool, fed by a small waterfall that cascaded down several levels of natural stonework, nested amidst the darkened mountainside. Every now and then a small ‘thunk’ would be heard as strange wooden contraptions, Shishi Odoshi, emptied themselves into the pool.

Migoya gazed down at the young boy, sweat glistening from his torso as he repeatedly punched a large stone obelisk. He took a sip from a simple bamboo ladle, a ladle that had so much meaning to him, as he expertly watched the form of his charge.

The boy punched the stone, his hands slick with blood from the many other strikes he had made. His punches were erratic, unfocused as he clearly was full of rage. He punched the stone once more, the pain in his hand excruciating.

“Again”

Migoya’s words made the boy even more full of rage. What was the point of punching this stupid stone if all it did was damage his hands? The stone itself had no mark on it, even after a full hour of strikes.

He once again turned to his ‘uncle’ his rage written all over his face.

Migoya looked back this time, lowering the bamboo ladle and placing it back onto its holder. A pale hand lingered there for a second, in respect for a fallen brother. His face was unreadable, his eyes glistening in the moonlight like two red blots of blood on snow.

The clone had only been awoken for a week, but had straight away been put into training. The extraordinary powers of ‘Grandmother’ Myakashi, one of the most experienced and powerful Yamanaka, Migoya’s Uchiha followers, as well as Migoya’s own secret techniques had enabled the boy to learn at an accelerated rate, both physically and through ‘lesson’s taught in Tsukuyomi ‘blocks’. He was yet to speak, but could understand well enough.

“I did not tell you to stop. Again”.

For at the end of the day, pain was the greatest teacher.

[MFT]
WC: 353

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

"Thank you Hiroshi - that will be all for now."

The small man gave a deep bow towards Migoya before grasping his clipboard and brusquely walking away. Many of the members of the Myakashi were somewhat unnerved by the latest edition to their hidden village - a complex structure hid in the mountainside. Migoya had personally ordered its construction, and thanks to the aid of chakra digging establishing the new cavern had been a simple task. What had been more difficult was fitting it with a steady supply of power, but fortunately Mt Tsukigari had geothermal reserves and, once tapped, provided the village with sufficient power for their relatively small size. This lab, however, was going to be a drain on the power reserves until something more permanent could be established.

Hiroshi looked sideways at the rows of 'clones' of various men and women, floating in the strange warm liquid. Most of them were simply brain-dead vessels, awaiting the time that a soul was transferred into them to be reborn, or their parts were needed to replace those lost. Morality and healthcare were balanced on a fine line here - was it wrong to create a version of life to preserve another?

Myakashi Migoya obviously felt so, if the life that was being saved was worthwhile.

Hiroshi then looked at an empty tank, its contents having been 'awaked' some time ago. The boy, for indeed it was a young man, had been 'sentient' somewhat and clearly had been made to have a soul of his own. 'Okami' Migoya had named the boy, who apparently was a clone of another of the founders - Yong, Migoya's brother. Why Migoya would create such a clone was beyond Hiroshi's understanding, but he respected and feared those who founded the Myakashi and who had led them here to Yamigakure and kept them safe. Since the boys awakening he had been training under the influence of Grandmother Myakashi and some of the Uchiha... apparently rapidly teaching the child all he needed to know to survive in this hostile land.

"Migoya-sempai, forgive me - how is Okami's training progressing? Has there been any degradation of his physical form?"

Migoya, who had been scraping what appeared to be a bone of some sort into a petrie dish for analysis, looked up at the young man - a protege of sorts skilled in Medical jutsu. He wasnt annoyed by the questions, even though he had dismissed Hiroshi - after all, that is how one learned.

"He is progressing well thank you Hiroshi-san. No degradation present, but his physical and mental faculties are beyond expectations. I will have him come for further tests shortly, but for now he is.... relaxing."

Hiroshi gave Migoya a small smile, knowing that 'relaxing' to Okami was doing high-intense training. The boy was a beast.

"Thank you Sempai. Please let me know if I can be of any further assistance".

"There is one thing Hiroshi - can you please ensure that Twitch will stop trying to enter the laboratory", Migoya said moving over to look at the Kaguya bone scrapings through a microscope. "His constant intrusions are becoming annoying. Perhaps create a rather... dirty area he can focus his drive on". Twitch was one of the many Tsukumogami that resided in the abandoned monastery that Yamigakure had been founded on. A rather old broom, he continued to 'clean' the village at the constant annoyance of anyone who was in his way. Even Migoya had recieved a 'switch from Twitch' for being in the worng place at the wrong time. If Migoya hadnt held back his anger, there would have been more kindling for the fire that day.

"Of course Sempai. I will see you later at dinner."

Migoya nodded, his eyes still locked at the complex and fascinating bone structure before him. The way that the bones were able to not only heal themselves, but manipulate themselves to form weapons and shields was facinating. His own control over blood... the control over bone... he needed a sample of Akimichi perhaps for flesh... Hmm.

So many secrets in the shinobi world to uncover.

"Twitch! Dont go near Okami, hes not in the mood!"

Migoya sighed. He would have to deal with this. So many secrets in the shinobi world, but not enough time to stop all the drama.

[WC: 715]

[MFT]

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

The crackling of the campfire added a soft undertone to the whistling of the wind as two lone figures sat infront of it, cooking what appeared to be the remnants of a lizard. The moon shone overhead, basking the cliff face in eerie shadows that seemed to watch the pair, waiting to strike.

“He then thought it appropriate to attack a Sennin in the middle of one of his lessons”, Migoya chuckled quietly, watching the boy in front of him closely. It was one of the first times he had taken this ‘clone’ of his brother out of the village proper, after training him extensively and ensuring that his mental capacity was sufficient to balance out the extreme powers he wielded.

“That was not very diplomatic, Migoya-sensi, was it?”, the boy stated matter-of-factly. Indeed, the boy lacked Yong’s particular brand of personality, but he was still very young mentally and such things would develop in time. The fact that he knew that his ‘brothers’ actions so long ago wasnt very diplomatic though brought a smile to Migoya’s face - he was learning.

“No it wasnt Okami, but it exposed a weakness, and sometimes we purposefully make ourselves vulnerable or seem to make a mistake in order to get others to move to where we want them”.

“Like Shogi”.

Again came Migoya’s smile.

“Yes. Exactly like Shogi”.

The pair then heard the crunch of a dried branch behind them, along with the sounds of multiple howls. Spinning quickly Okami could see what appeared to be ten ebony-furred wolves, sleek in gaite, their teeth bared back. He caught Migoya out of the side of his eye - his teacher had not moved and continued to cook the lizard.

“Sensei - there are wolves here.”

“Then take care of them.” His voice was matter-of-fact.

The wolves started to run towards the pair, drooling at the thought of easy meat. Okuni instinctively jumped to intercept himself between them and Migoya, and still the albino did not turn around.

Okuni, turned, his own mouth forming into a vicious snarl, reminiscent of the moon wolves in front of him. He saw red.

Seconds later, Okuni, covered in blood and fur, turned to see his ‘uncle’ look at him, his face impassive. Before him lay a pack of dead wolves, ripped to shreds by his own hands. He looked back as his sensei rose to his feet and slowly walked towards the smallest of the corpses - barely a puppy.

“You will need to control that bloodlust. Control all aspects of yourself and your surroundings”, Migoya said simply, without a hint of judgement. It was almost like he had set this up beforehand…

“You knew they would attack?” The boy was so smart.

“Yes”.

“Then why did you bring me here”.

“Think back on today's lesson, Okuni-san. I knew the wolves were here as they had taken some of our livestock. I did not know where they were, so I simply let them find us.”

“Exposing a weakness… your back… to have them come out”.

Migoya turned and looked at his charge and smiled.

“Learn this lesson and become more powerful.”

It was then that a strange white glow would emanate from Migoya’s hand into the corpse of the strange puppy. A few seconds later, the wolf-puppy would stand up, confused, before looking towards Okuni and bounding over towards him, ignoring the corpses of his pack-mates around him. His focus was on this one. His Alpha.

Okuni looked towards his harsh sensei with a measure of confusion.

“Power comes in many forms. Enjoy this one.”

A rough tongue would lick Okuni’s hand, causing the boy to look down at his new companion.

[MFT]
WC: 611

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

“You have mastered Taijutsu, and your skills with Ninjutsu and Genjutsu will develop with time and experience. I am pleased with your progress, yet more training remains.”

The boy remained tight lipped, sweat beading on his forehead as he continued to concentrate on the task in front of him.

“Skill might make you a powerful shinobi, but it does not make you Myakashi. Our clan is made up of the rejects of society - those who chose their own path, but in so doing forge a path for others to follow. We have differing goals and aspirations, but one thing is always clear. We support one another above all. We do not lie or manipulate each other. “

Onoshi ducked quickly as a large shuriken came out at him from the darkness that surrounded him. Once again his ‘uncles’ voice spoke from the void.

“We encourage and support one another, even at the expense of our own beliefs.”

The sound of metal echoed around the strange void as Onoshi blocked a thrown kunai with a metallic bracer.

“Everyone else is expendable. Our only loyalty is to our clan, not to our blood, not to any village.”

The boy rapidly spun through a complex series of handseals as a blast of flame covered him in its orange tendrils. He felt the intense heat eat away at his elemental barrier. It would not be enough.

He felt a sharp, quick kick to his side push him, and he span several metres before collapsing to the floor, his ribs crying out in pain. At least he had escaped the fire's fury. He looked up to see his uncle look down at him, a pale hand seemingly absorbing the flames into his palm.

“A shinobi may be strong by themself, but as a group they can be unstoppable. You are only as powerful as those you put around yourself”.

[MFT]
WC: 311.

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

Two figures stood on top of the bridge that spans near to the great waterfall that generated some of the power tha illuminated the village hidden in darkness. One, a man in black, leant casually on the safety rail, his pale white hair being tossed about by the wind generated by the falling water. The second, a small, shrivelled woman also in black, stooped over a wooden cane.

“Grandmother… we need to ensure the safety of our village even more so. Our actions have drawn attention to our clan and those we have.. Insulted may wish retribution”.

“So again Migoya you have brought calamity upon our clan.”

Migoya looked at the wise old woman, her ancient face giving nothing away despite the annoyance she clearly had towards this upstart albino.

“Again. Always. It is our way. The sharpest blades are not created without the most intense heat and pressure. You taught me that”.

The old woman finally gave a response, shaking her walking cane towards Migoya. “Don’t throw my words back into my face. We have established a fine village here, and the last thing we need is for more trouble to cause us to move yet again. The people here sacrificed for you, Migoya-san.”

“And you don’t think that I have sacrificed for them?”, Migoya stated calmly. “My own standing, my own family”.

“Kirin?”

That shut the old woman up. She sighed the sigh that only the ancient can sigh, turning and walking towards her house, Migoya watching her back walk into the distance.

It was cruel of him to bring her up. His wife, his only true love. The foundation that had been his family. She was gone, and Migoya did not know how or where. Enemies perhaps. But her loss was felt throughout the clan. Grandmother Myakashi had loved her too and had practically raised her when her own mother had been killed by her father, a previous Oyabun of the Konoha Yakuza. Her disappearance was keenly felt, and most peoples eyes fell upon Migoya.

If only they knew that he would give anything to know what had happened to her.

“Migoya-sama. The armourer has begun your alterations to our equipment. Are there any other orders?”

“No Hitoshi-san. Tell Ryou-san to continue his work with haste.”

“At once, Yamikage-sama.”

The operative disappeared quickly, leaving the albino alone on the walkway. Pale hands grasped the metallic handrail, squeezing them hard as the strange title hit him. The responsibility hit him.

Yes. He must protect his village. His clan. His family. And the best way to do that was to kill those that threatened them.

Oh yes. The time was coming for actual conflict that this world had never seen before. Tick. Tick Tick.

[MFT]
[WC: 442]

 

[Myakashi Migoya]

“His training is complete Grandmother. I am not abandoning him, nor you, nor our clan.”

“You have said that before. As did Yong. As did Hisao. As did Doku.”

Migoya sighed deeply, his shoulders falling down in what appeared to be resignation. Grandmother Myakashi was right - she usually was - and that made it all the more hurtful.

His brothers had gone - and he was the only one left. They had dreams of making Konoha a proper shinobi village, where everyone was treated with at least a measure of respect, but it had backfired. His plan had resulted in the deaths of children under a fallen Hokage’s blade, and eventually had resulted in the deaths of his brothers… somewhere. The original Myakashi had been broken up all due to his hubris, but at least now a thriving village, albeit small, had set up the next generations.

“I have, as did they. But now it is different.”

He reached up to pull his black hood over his head, covering the shock of white hair that usually gave his identity away.

“The boy is ready - all he needs is the love I cannot give him. I tried to help with Wee-yong, and with Kiko, but they turned to another mother. She will soon come to claim this one as well - prepare him.”

He turned away, looking towards the small pass that led from Yamigakure.

“What are you going to do then, Migoya-sama. You are the Kage of this village, but yet again you leave us.”

He turned, for the first time his eyes flashing red with a hint of anger.

“That I am grandmother, and I have protected this village and will always continue to do so. Me being here is a danger - a beacon for those who would do me ill, and in so doing find this village. I cannot risk your lives - thus my role is to leave and protect this place from afar.”

He turned away again.

“I cannot lose my family… again.”

He extended a robed arm, his hand opening for a second before a dull white staff appeared in his hand, its normal glow faded away.

“I go to protect them once again, and bring what I have made to my nephew and his daughter. Take care of the boy, and of the village. I go to find my wife.”

He sighed once more, ensuring that he had everything he needed for yet another journey, and walked forward.

[MFT]
[WC: 400]
[Topic Left]