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odaofiga · 5 years

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Life and Death in Iga

This chapter of Ai’s history doubles as my entry for the Voltage Contest. Hopefully this fanfiction illustrates my absolute love for SLBP. Judges, grab a comfy chair and enjoy!

Genre: Angst Characters: Momochi Sandayu, Saizo Word Count: 9550 (no, that’s not a typo) A/N: This is the first backstory entry for my SLBP OC Aina/Ai, detailing her childhood in Iga and how and why she left.I relied on scant canon references, vague historical information, and my own imagination to pull this together so please feel free to speak up out if you notice any inconsistencies. Sorry no tags this round to insure it is #’d properly for the contest.

This is exceptionally long so most of it will be hidden under a cut. Feedback is greatly appreciated, as always!

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Somewhere deep in Iga province, a soft cry of pain sounded in the night. It echoed away almost at once, aided by the howling wind and rain. But even as silence fell, the deepest shadows of the forest stirred. Heavy-lidded eyes opened in the darkness and stared out toward the source of the sound, waiting.

A few moments passed and it sounded again; an anguished, breathy howl. It was louder this time, but ragged and strained as if every sound was being forced through clenched teeth. Another followed, and another. Gradually even the storm was contested by a rhythmic, peaking cries. The odd curse punctuated the sounds, distinctly feminine despite the vile language she used. Then, amidst the caterwaul, came the sudden sharp burst of a infant’s first scream.

As if cued by the sound, a figure emerged from the night and crossed the clearing with all the lethality of a wolf on the hunt. A dark and desolate house lay care-worn ahead, its broken eaves brushed by moonlight. It looked by all accounts vacant. Only the lingering whine of pain from within offered evidence to the contrary. Through the door, Sandayu slipped as soundless as a spirit and took account of what lay within.

The interior was as meager and wanting for repair as the out, with only a single, rapidly placed set of bedding strewn over the dusty floor. And laid off-center across its folds, as if she had collapsed there in haste, lay a haggard, quavering woman he recognized well. Forehead beaded with sweat and gasping desperately for breath, she was in no fit state to recognize him in return. Or even notice that a presence had entered the room.

Sumi was a shadow of the great woman she had once been. Formerly the daughter to a prominent name, her prestige had been broken by the weight of the mission she’d failed to complete. And any chance to reclaim it lost to the consequential seed that plagued her tonight. Whether by a fluke of nature or some inherent strength, the spawn had survived all of her attempts to dispatch it. It had grown to term and robbed Sumi of her sanity along the way.

The woman squirmed, still in the throes of pain and half exposed. She was oblivious to the threat that stood feet away and continued to waste her energy in cursing the offending father’s name. The wails of the abandoned newborn between her legs rose in turn, but rather than quell the new mother, they seemed to enrage her further. Her hateful slurs turned spurning the child itself. She clawed convulsively at the empty air around her hips and her feet launched toward the tiny creature between. It was clear that if exhaustion and pain hadn’t prevented her, her hands would have closed around the infant’s throat and silenced it then and there.

But, whether through luck or a crueler fate, Sandayu got there first. With a hand closed around the chubby, vernix-covered leg, he pulled the child out of her reach. And in the darkness of his own kneeling shadow, the tiny girl opened her eyes for the first time. They were bright and colorless, betraying her foreign blood at a single glance. But as the child’s bleary eyes lingered on the looming figure above, her pitious wails seemed to falter. Sandayu looked back with a cruel smile.

With a last shrewd look at the floundering mother feet away, Sandayu made up his mind. Slicing a blade cleanly through the tethering cord, he turned and vanished without a sound. It would take many long moments before Sumi would realized the newborn’s cries had faded from the room as well. Tucked in the crook of his arm, in a feathered length of cloth, the child’s shallow sobs were spirited away into the night.

--------

For awhile, rumors persisted that she was Sandayu’s own child. After all, he’d appeared with the newborn in his arms and offered no explanation for it. He handed her off to a lactating mother and only rarely looked in on the pair, but he did permit them houseroom in the fortress itself. It was a protection usually reserved for the jonin families alone. And more peculiar still, Sandayu had gone to the trouble of choosing the child’s name himself.

But then, the cruelty behind the child’s chosen name raised questions of its own...

He named her Aina.

It sounded innocent enough to the ears. A good common name to fool trust into any that heard it. And with 愛 (Ai- / love), the sound so often whispered between lover's lips as its prelude, how could it not? The first syllable alone warmed the heart. ...Only in its written form was the cruelty behind the full word revealed. For it wasn't 菜 (vegetables) that crafted the second character of her name as was so commonly the case, but 無 (without).

愛無...

Unloved. It was more a description than a name. And while emotional attachment was considered more of a hindrance than a blessing in Iga, to blatantly name a child ‘without love’ was a savagery no mother would have considered. Little did anyone know, the name Aina was an echo of the same disparaging remarks her own mother had spat at her during childbirth. It was an origin Sandayu make sure to relate to her of once she’d learned to write. The name itself would become a permanent reminder that she was unwanted, even by her own mother.

Village interest in the child quickly waned once it became clear her red hair and persistent grey eyes were not of Iga. Though the truth was never made clear in so many words, she was shunned and ridiculed for her unexplained origins nonetheless. In the isolation that inevitably followed, Sandayu ensured he was the only glimpse of kindness the child received. How easy it was to manipulate someone so young...when even the soft jingle of the bells in his hair or a game of peek-a-boo played behind his black mask was enough to make her happy. His smile may have been hollow and his touch cold, but he offered a companionship beyond the hostility of her peers and she loved him for it. It was a love he turned skillfully to veneration, loyalty, and absolute obedience. With a blindly devoted youth so eager to please, Sandayu wasted no time in molding his infant charge into a weapon he could use.

Aina was pulled to stand before she’d found her feet. She was taught to mimic hand seals before she’d truly mastered speech. And in place of youthful toys, she was given blunt blades to occupy her time. By the age of four, she had been handed her first edged kunai and, by the age of 5, she’d been made to use it. Death began as a game. Small, playful challenges set by her mentor that fell birds from the trees and mice in their holes. And it was under his instruction that Aina found her first human opponent in the form of her own wet nurse.

The woman hadn’t been particularly kind to the child, certainly no more so than anyone else. But her nursing duties had brought a sort of comfort by their maternal nature alone. Whether it was this slight fondness that he’d wanted to strip from Aina or if she had simply been the easiest target he could offer, Aina didn’t questioned him when he set her the task.

It’s hard to say why it had been so easy. Perhaps the sight of the youngster with her toy blades had been to commonplace to raise her suspicions, or maybe her plaintive request for a hug was simply too natural for the nurse to ignore. Either way, the woman paid a heavy price for her complacency when Aina’s ‘toy’ blade pierced her throat.

The five year old child stood there, awash in the warm blood of her wet nurse. She may not have quite understood the sudden stillness in the body before her or the shock of emotion in the woman’s eyes, but she knew she’d done as she’d been told. Sandayu stepped from the darkness once the deed had been done and she felt a familiar thrill at his emergence. The way that he looked at her made her feel alive. And as he whispered those words, she felt a fierce surge of pride, a sense of purpose, and a powerful longing to hear that rare show of approval voiced again.

“...see how easy that was?”

-------

{ One year Later }

There was a stranger in town.

Aina had learned to recognize everyone in Momochi village at a young age; by name, by sight, even at a distance by gait if need be. Anyone not among those was an intruder, an enemy, and were to be dealt with accordingly. Such statutes had been drilled into all of the children as inevitabilities, Aina included. And she had seen her fair share of ‘strangers’ cut down in the name of village security.

But the villagers weren’t treating this woman as an enemy. On the contrary, everyone seemed to know her at a glance and their reactions were far from their normal ones. Fear, reverence, uncertainty; these were reactions Aina had only ever seen garnered by Sandayu himself, though the whispers and mutterings that followed in her wake had certainly never plagued him. This woman, with her dark hair and persistent scowl, was allowed to march right through the village center toward the fortress itself. And stranger still, Sandayu was out to meet her at the gates.

Six year old Aina crept as close as she dared. She still couldn’t make out the words shared between them, she was too far away, but the tone of their conversation was hard to miss. Anger and accusations colored the woman’s language from the first word, her handsome features transformed in a show of fury. Though despite her ire, Aina noticed the woman kept a careful distance nonetheless. Still, she looked nothing short of manic and certainly suicidal as she raged before the master. But to Aina’s great surprise, he didn’t strike her down for it. Standing as still as ice and with a smile just as cold, Sandayu took her fury in his stride.

Then, as if prompted, the woman’s sharp glare turned suddenly toward her; a single red-headed child among the prevalent silvers and blacks. The level of malice in that single look made Aina grip her kunai. Soon Sandayu’s eyes swivelled onto her as well. And while they were as cold as ever, there was definitely a gleam of amusement in his calculating stare. Whatever the low words that followed seemed to pull the woman’s attention just as quickly away. In only a few minutes more, the woman’s rage seemed to quell and she stalked from the village just as dauntless as she’d come.

Aina longed to watch her go, but the weight of eyes upon her own back drew her attention away. There was a storm of furtive whispers and shaking heads in the village crowd, and for some inexplicable reason, it all seemed to be focused on her. Normally stern looks were now outright barbarous.

Before she could feel more than a moments disquiet at this odd turn of events, a movement caught her eye. Sandayu, retreating from the fortress gate, was flicking his finger covertly at his side. A subtle signal calling her to follow. She obliged without a moment's thought and fell in behind the master as she had done so many times before. The jingling of his bells brought a renewed ease as they passed through the inner halls the fortress. He waiting until they were alone to speak, and he did so without breaking stride or sparring her a glance.

“Say to me, child, do you know whom that woman was?” He asked.

“...No, Sensei.”

He gave a soft “hmm” and they turned a corner. When he spoke again it was on a seemingly unrelated topic.

“Name for me, the Iga clans.”

This was often how lessons would go; a verbal roundabout before knowledge was earned.

“Momochi, Hattori, and Fujibayashi,” she answered, studiously.

“And whereto do you heed?”

“To Momochi clan. To you, Sensei,” she obliged again. Another satisfied “Hmm” met her words and was followed by a rarely heard chuckle.

“Yet thou doesn't know your own elders...” he said offhand. Though the words sounded like an admonition, it was laced with amusement. Unsure of what he wanted to hear or if he expected an response at all, Aina held her tongue.

They were nearing her quarters now. If they reached it without breaching the subject of the strange woman again, she was sure her curiosities would go unanswered. Still, she didn’t dare raise the question so bluntly herself. It was as they turned the corner on her familiar passage that he spoke again and the subject was reverted just as quickly.

“Her name is Sumi,” Sandayu offered, with no more inflection to the name than he had offered to any of his questions. “She is Momochi, and a minacious one. Slip thy guard, and she shall kill you. ...Never grant her the chance.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

Sandayu gave her the briefest of sidelong looks as they approached her door.

“...Sumi is your mother.”

It was a mark to the strictness of his training that Aina’s steps did not falter at these words. Though her normally downcast eyes jumped up to his shoulder in surprise, he wore only his usual hollow smile. They had arrived at her quarters and with a calm hand, he ushered her inside. Convinced she had heard all she was going to hear, Aina was taken aback when the master followed her inside. Closing the door solidly behind, he sat her down for the longest talk they had ever had. She had been hopeful when he’d entered, but by the time Sandayu departed, her her bowed head had fallen as low as her station.

...Sandayu was not her father.

It was far from the gravest of the news he delivered, but it hit her harder than all the rest. The possibility had only ever been a fantasy at best, she had known that. And being the daughter of the Momochi name at all should have been a profound boon in her favor. But she had never expected the full reality of her parentage to be so far removed from either prestige.

Aina was the bastard daughter of a samurai. Some distant Lord in the Owari province by the name of Oda. He was a known enemy of Iga, an outsider, and with his blood in her veins, Aina bore that stigma as much as him. And while promising, her mother’s prestigious blood did nothing to bolster her station either, even within her own clan. Aina’s very creation was the result of her mother’s failed mission against the Oda so many years before. And she was marred with a death sentence for that alone. Her life in Momochi was a clemency granted by him. And if she was to earn a permanent trusted place within the village, she would have to amend her station through blood owed. The blood of her father to start.

According to Sandayu, this was the singular task for which she had been raised, and the reason there was no leniency in her training. If her proficiency lapsed, if she fell behind the curve of her peers, Aina would cease to be useful to the village and would lose more than her station in the fall. It was a grave warning that Sandayu delivered with his usual indifference.

Devoted to her master, Aina took his nonchalance as a vote of confidence in her abilities rather than a true lack of interest. And she strived to take his words with the same neutrality that they were offered. After all, she had more than held her own so far. Thanks to the master’s high expectations and harsher disciplines, she was a force to be reckoned with. She could hold her own against most of the opponents twice her age and could easily best those equal to it. And as Sandayu left with his usual rattle of bells, Aina rationalized that she had no reason to fear a loss of station.

A theory that remained true...until he showed up.

-------

{ One year Later }

Aina was bleeding.

And once again, she was pulling herself up off the floor. Feet beneath her, she remained kneeling and attempted to master her rapid pulse and quickened breath in the reprieve. As her free hand brushed her lip, it came away stained red with blood. Her eyes lingered on it as her tongue found the cut in her gums. The sharp pain that followed furrowed her brow before she could hide it. She was losing, badly. And to make matters worse, her failures were on full display for the man that mattered most. Forcing her face back into an apathetic mask, she looked toward the dais and found the grim eyes of Sandayu upon her.

“My, has thou lost so easily?”

“...No, Sensei,” she answered, voice steadier than she felt.

“No? On your feet then.”

His order fell with all the kindness of a whip, and she had no choice by to obey. Fighting the fatigue in her legs, Aina rose straight backed and tightened her grip on her short sword. In the moment it took her to rise, Sandayu’s gaze flickered to her opponent. The virulent gleam darkened his eyes told her he was no more satisfied by her opponent’s performance than with her own. Despite all the pain in her jaw and her many aching bruises, Aina hardened herself for another fight. She knew better than to a hope for rest so early in the session, regardless of how one sided the bout had been. And sure enough, the order fell.

“Again.”

Aina turned immediately toward her opponent, blade held reverse grip and ready across her chest. Her opponent was already in his stance as well. If any of her landed hits were causing him pain, he made no show of it. Katana erect and his red eyes cold, the ten year old Saizo looked as solid and battle-ready as he had four rounds before. Endeavoring to show as little wear, Aina launched herself forward. In the infinitesimal second that it took their blades to clash and part, she watched some semblance of indecision flashed in Saizo’s eyes. It was an emotion as rare in him as from the master himself, but she had seen this one before...

Aina had known a change was imminent the moment she saw him escorted through the fortress gates. Saizo walked in the master’s shadow, a position held only by his personal protégés. At the time, Aina alone had earned that spot and her rivalrous response to this new addition was only natural. But Sandayu quickly flamed that innocent contention into animosity. Despite the four year age gap between the pupils, he pitted them against each other as equals the moment they met. They clashed blades within the same hour under the master’s watchful eye and for the first time Aina found her own abilities brutally inadequate.

It was in the wake of this very one-sided bout that Sandayu had announced new stipulations. Access to food, living quarters, even medical supplies would henceforward be contingent upon the outcome of their weekly spars. And Aina had just lost the first fight.

Aina had had seven years to come to terms with Sandayu’s unconscionable heavy hand and had dipped her head in immediate acceptance. Saizo, on the other hand, had looked to her, conflicted and contrite. Unwilling to show any chagrin before the master, she turned her back on him in response. When only one could succeed, and the other starve, it was inevitable that they had never be more than callous rivals. Or rather, Aina never entertained the possibility of another option.

Sandayu had made it clear; sentiment was weakness. And the resurfacing of his sympathy now, from an opponent who was besting her so easily, was infuriating. A loss was hard enough to endure without the thought of his pity to sour it further. Her eyes ablaze, Aina parried the next strike and rolled under his pursuing blade with fresh resolve. She was intent on punishing him for his show of weakness.

The benefit of her shorter sword meant tight maneuvers were easier to make, and with a well-timed step, Aina was inside his guard. She got one good swipe across his lat before he got his blade down to block. He was taking retreating steps now, needing the distance against her close-quarter strikes. It was a dance they had shared many times before, and though she moved with all the speed she could muster, once again she was failing to keep up with his longer stride. His blade was soon falling full force through the gap that had opened in between. But rather than evade as she normally would have done, frustration and desperation encouraged a riskier course instead.

She planted her feet. Catching his descending blade with her own, she pushed forward and extended her free left hand. As planned, momentum carried Saizo’s obi right into her waiting grasp. She relished the brief moment genuine surprise on his face as she turned, using his own sash as leverage to pull him forward and off balance. It might have been the win that had always eluded her thus far, but as she twisted, her bruised knee gave out beneath her.

Her grip loosened, her sword slid, and the forceful strike that she had held so vehemently at bay, slammed brutally down on her unguarded collar. Aina heard the break before she felt it, a crack like a splintering tree that ripped sickeningly through chest. A scream of pain came so quickly, she didn’t realize it was her own until she bite her lip and it faded away.

Aina was on the floor again and couldn’t remember the second it had taken to fall. Self-awareness returned slowly. Her right arm was pins and needles of numbness, her weapon was rocking on the ground by her feet, and tears were streaming unbidden from her eyes. She was braced unsteadily between one knee and a trembling left hand. Consumed by the shock of the injury, it took a moment more for her to realize the warm, firm something on which her forehead was resting was Saizo’s upright leg. She didn’t fight the contact. And surprisingly, neither did he.

“Why do you hesitate, Saizo? Finish it.”

The voice barked unmercifully from behind her and Aina tensed, fully expecting Saizo’s bracing leg to vanish and another blow to fall. For though she was slumped on bended knee and unarmed, the round wasn’t technically lost until a shoulder or back hit the floor.

Saizo’s leg remained and a moment that seemed an eternity passed in tense silence. Then from somewhere above, she sensed her opponent’s heavy gaze leave her before he spoke.

“...She’s already lost.” His voice sounded as callous as the master’s, but still he didn’t move or push her away.

“Has she… How disappointing.”

As the slight jingle of Sandayu rising reached her ears, she felt the tension in the room rise with him. Dreading his own hand reaching out to level her, Aina forced herself to open her eyes and lifted her head. She didn’t look toward the master, or even up at Saizo’s face somewhere above. She felt too much shame to attempt either. Instead, she stared straight ahead into the dusty cloth covering Saizo’s knee and waited. Thankfully when Sandayu spoke again, he sounded no closer.

“...Leave.”

Saizo’s leg gave the slightest flinch in response, but Aina knew immediately that the command had not been meant for him. It was never the victor that was asked to depart. Lip between her teeth to hold her grimace back, Aina shifted her weight and prepared to stand. It was a far greater struggle to keep the pain from revealing itself in her response as she said, “...Yes, Sensei.”

Saizo turned his hand slightly before her eyes. It was a silent offer of help up off the floor that he had certainly never offered before. And though she felt the usual scoff of derision rise in her throat, there was a smallest temptation to take it as well. In the end, she ignored it out of pride. Sandayu’s eyes were still upon her and she refused to fall any further in her master’s eyes, whatever it cost her.

Hissing quietly through her nose, Aina found her feet unaided and with an obligatory bow, she walked from the room under her own power. Only the slight slope to her shoulders and the tremble in her back revealed the height of her pain.

-------

Like most young ninja, Aina received an animal familiar. Hers came in the form of a young myna; a small black bird with pale bill and a bright yellow eyes. Charmed by the birds melodic whistling cries, Aina had named her gifted companion Yoruuta, meaning ‘night song.’

But while most familiars were a constant companion for their shinobi, Aina’s myna had a singular purpose; to carry covert messages between the master and herself. It was a species known for intelligence and mimicry, making it a perfect choice to deliver complex messages on the fly. Though as hers was still young, goshikimai would have to suffice until he was properly trained. As her early responsibilities were so few, most messages entailed little more than a summons to meet anyway, usually with training or minor missions to follow. But in the weeks that followed Saizo’s arrival, the young bird began delivering something more than words.

Ousted from the fortress following their first bout, Aina had taken up shelter in an abandoned temple outside of the village. But what had been meant as a temporary refuge quickly became a permanent residence when her weekly results failed to improve. Sandayu’s stringent punishment for failure was not repealed, even for a day. Her survival was left completely to her own hands. In the wake of such severe treatment, her adoration of her master might have faltered. But Mooching had an uncharacteristic way of reaffirming her faith.

As she sat nursing her residual injuries in the weeks following Saizo’s arrival, the crested black bird had fluttered down without his usual grace. The reason for his bungling approach was immediately clear. While he usually delivered little more than a quick message in the form of colored rice, he now held a thin, thread-wrapped bundle of herb sprigs between his beak. A quick look told her they were all medicinal, all specifically purposed for the injuries she’d sustained, and all of the herbs were ones she had personally seen in the fortress’s private stores.

Sandayu had sent them to her...?

It seemed an almost absurd possibility considering his public demeanor. Not to mention, his complete lack of compassion in the last seven years. But at the same time, Sandayu alone knew of Yoruuta’s role as her messenger. He alone sent messages between them.

...and he alone had been there to raise her, when no one else had cared to. Maybe, just maybe… that meant he harbored some deeper affection for her than he could to express in so many words. Aina dared to hope.

In the time it took her broken collarbone to mend after her final devastating match, Saizo’s position as Sandayu’s pupil had been secured. She was not given another chance to regain her former position. Though she still received training and missions appropriate to her high level of skill, it was clear she had fallen permanently to number two. But despite his earlier threat, Sandayu had not struck her down for her failure. And the bundle that arrived the night following that bone-shattering bout seemed to confirm her feeble hope as reality. Along with the usual herbs, horsetail, nettle and oat had been added to the mix.

They were all potent remedies for bone repair.

-------

{ Two years later }

The sound of footfalls whispered through the trees like so many leaves in a breeze. So quiet even the birds failed to alight from their branches before the perpetrators had already passed. Three figures, light and lithe, darted through the slopes of Bano valley; the smallest in the lead with her two pursuers several meters behind. And though her breath came in hushed pants and her short hair was damp with sweat, she didn’t have the luxury of a respite.

Thwip. Thwip.

Shurikens splintered the bough where her hands had just been. Aina spared a glance back without breaking her stride but she found only dappled foliage behind. They were still too far back to present a defined target and, judging by their aim, she was fairly confident she offered little more of one to them, at least for the moment. Only their snide comments reached her clearly through the trees.

“Thieving wretch! Get back here!”

“She can’t run forever. She’ll pay, blood or peach.”

No, she couldn’t run forever and the distance between them was closing quickly. A mere nine years old to their twelve, her shorter legs were losing her her lead, and her margin of safety with it.

Thwip. Another blade landed dangerously close.

Turning to favor a more southerly route, Aina led her pursuers into the denser basin below. Here the shadows gathered as thick as oil in the canopy. Their thick cover would make their aim a far more difficult task. And, scattered in the thick foliage around her, the scurryings of the forest inhabitants offered a greater distraction than her own light steps. Here was her best chance.

A large flicker of movement drew her eye. A furry, banded creature was foraging in the bushes below. She reacted immediately, drawing and flinging a straight blade in a single motion. It impacted the soft earth behind the animal with a dramatic spray of soil. And as predicted, the tanuki was off like a shot. With a racket that belied its small size, the animal crashed headlong through the undergrowth ahead. This commotion in caused came in stark contrast to Aina’s silence. For the moment the blade had left her hand, she had froze.

In the shadow of an oak, Aina crouched as still as stone while her pursuers raced past, taking the bait of the tanuki’s noisy escape. Stray strands of hair flitted into her open eyes, her held breath burned in her chest, and the bite of a shuriken wound throbbed in her leg, but still she waited. Finally, when their quiet footfalls had faded into silence and the tempered sounds of birds returned, Aina allowed herself to relax and breath.

As her right hand swept the blood-colored bangs from her face, her left brought up her hard-won prize, level with her eyes. The peach was blushing with over-ripeness and slightly bruised, but it was still whole. And it was all hers.

Smiling in her eagerness, Aina took her first bite right through the tart skin. The juice wash over her tongue and down her throat; wet, firm and impossibly sweet. Even her disciplined composure wavered at the succulence. Aina allowed her eyes to flutter closed in a brief moment of ecstasy.

Sweetness was such a rare taste in Iga. And with the aroma the fruit released at every bite, it was clear why. Even devoured, there was a telling odor that clung to her hand and lips long after it was gone. And she knew that if such scents could attract the flies, it could alert her enemies just as easily. It was a problem she would have to remedy.

Leaving the striped pit tauntingly on the branch in case her pursuers retraced their path, Aina slipped off her perch and moved off into the forest in haste. She didn’t go back the way she’d come or in the direction that she’d been pursued, but toward the small stream memory told her was only a few klicks away.

Even at a even pace, it wasn’t long before the babble of water over rocks could be heard ahead. However, despite the tempting sound, a tug at her senses slowed her pace long before she could reach it. There was a presence in the clearing ahead and her thoughts went immediately to the two boys she’d just led astray. Curling her hand carefully to prevent the wind spreading the tropical scent forward, Aina paused, straining her senses for any details she could gather on the clearing ahead.

The coppery scent of blood was on the air. The sound of erratically splashing water, the whispering scrape of metal on wood, and one low, controlled ventilation. One person lay ahead, a shinobi. And from the sound of it, they had either just drawn or sheathed a blade.

From shadow to shadow and up a wide, river pine, Aina crept. She emerged onto one of the trees sturdy, twisting arms, looked down and froze. She barely dared to draw breath. Her eyes trained on the single figure that crouched at the bank below. He had matured slightly since she’d last seen him last but there was no mistaking that shock of spiky, silver hair.

Saizo.

His back was angled slightly toward her and his red eyes were set firmly on the water splashing between his hands. The blood she’d smelt was there, being cleaningly washed away in the stream. If Saizo knew she was there, he gave no sign of it, but that hardly brought her any measure of comfort. It wouldn’t take long for her breath or her weighty gaze to alert him. IF he didn’t already know.

Aina’s hand ached with the temptation to draw the short sword tied laterally at her back. Anyone else would have taken it without thought, and she certainly had more reason to wish his demise than any of her peers. Sandayu himself might have applauded her for seizing the opportunity. But Aina found herself studying the subtle lines of his back instead. Despite the clear motive calling her to arms, her intrigue out-weighted her ill will.

Rumors were rampant that Saizo was already being tasked with crucial missions outside of Iga province, that a long term placement was soon to come. The thought left a slight bitterness on her tongue. That would have been her role had Saizo not caught the master’s eye. But for all the pain it caused her to admit it, Aina couldn’t deny that his proficiency with the blade far surpassed her own… and it was more than their age gap could excuse. She had never been able to land more than a flesh wounds worth in their many bouts. Saizo had a natural flair that had always eluded her. He wielded his katana with all the grace of a bird on the wing. Even if she were to ambush Saizo now, she would be hard-pressed to win without sustaining serious injury herself.

And…

The memory of his hand held out to her in aide so many years ago came fleetingly to mind. Aina harbored no delusions about his lethality, or the hostility that existed between them. But that tiny, insignificant kindness was a curiosity she still couldn’t explain. She cast the memory forcefully away. With the decision already half made to turn and leave, Aina looked down for a last look at her old adversary and found his distinctive red eyed were already on her.

In the time it took her hand to close around her hilt, he was gone. Adrenaline surged and Aina was already in motion. Short blade drawn and back to the trunk, she turned to meet the distinct weight that had landed on her bough. There crouched Saizo, balanced as easily as a bird on the slender limp, with a playful smile and shuttered eyes. The quiet chuckle that shook his shoulders seemed wildly out of place.

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t we?”

Though her short sword still hung between them, Saizo paid no attention to the sustained threat. His katana was still stealthed and his stance suggested a calm she could not share. While she locked her eyes on him, his curious gaze traveled over her body. His nostrils flared as he looked to her hand, narrowed at to the stain of blood over her wounded thigh and finally came back up to her stubbornly fierce expression. The mirth in his eyes had faded slightly, but it still wasn’t the callous look she had seen from him in battle. It was a searching look, almost...friendly.

“How long-” He started to speak but abruptly stopped, his eyes turning sharp.

She had heard it too. The soft flutter of incoming wings and a familiar whistling call. She recognized it at once as a myna bird, her myna bird. And Aina had a brief moment to wonder why Saizo seemed to have recognized it too. He made no show of surprise either when the feathery shadow landed lightly on a thin limb above and looked down at them with beady eyes. Obviously far too daring a feat for a wild specimen.

It was odd. In order to maintain anonymity, Yoruuta had been carefully trained to only approach when she was alone. And certainly not to interrupt a tense moment such as this. For him to overlook both stop measures...

“Must be important,” Saizo said, mirroring her own thoughts so closely she blinked in surprise. Saizo looked from Yoruuta to Aina, as expectant as the bird itself.

Resigning her held tension with a sigh and a slightly furrowed brow, she lifted her left hand, upturned, for the incoming message. The myna dropped lightly down onto her wrist at the signal and dropped a number of colored rice grains into her open palm. With the precise bobbing of his fiery beak, he rearrange them into the message as it was meant to be read. Her eyes still locked resolutely on the threat before her, Saizo found the message first. He peeked unabashed over the curl of her fingers as the bird worked.

Yorruta finished with a soft whistle and took flight from her arm. Aina pulled her arm in close and risked a glance away to read it herself. The brief flicker of confusion that had narrowed Saizo’s eyes appeared at once in her own.

MEET AT KAOCHIDANI

Aina lingered on it longer than she intended to, such was her surprise. In the last few years, she could count on one hand the variation of orders she had received. It was nearly always a summons to the fortress itself, with training or sparring to follow. Rarer still were time sensitive missions and tasks sent on the fly. But regardless of the message, the master had never left the secluded village on her account. Much less to such a distant destination as the Kaochidani valley. It was a bit...unsettling.

Turning her hand sideways to cast the grains to the ground below, Aina refocused her stare on Saizo and he starred right back. His eyes were no more malicious than before, but they had become fathomless with thought. No words passed between them, but the understanding was clear. Whatever might have come of this meeting, hostile or… otherwise… would have to wait. The village, the mission, and, most of all, the call of the master came before anything else.

Looking briefly between her stubbornly hostile grey eyes, Saizo offered the smallest jerk of his head. Though Aina took it as the promise of safety for her leave, she still slid her short sword away with extreme care, watching him closely for any indication of a broken promise. For a fleeting moment, they sat within arms distance of each other; unarmed and an odd uncertainty hanging in between. Then Aina turned into the heavy shadows and was gone.

Saizo sat starring after her in the gathering dusk.

-------

{ 5 miles Later }

Darkness had well and truly fallen by the time Aina reached the severe slopes of Kaochidani valley. The gloom wasn't strictly due to the late hour however. Menacing clouds had rolled in overhead and a humid wind blew with the promise of a storm to come.

The dense forest that Aina had clung to in her travel fell away at the valleys edge to meet sheer rock face. There was no vegetation to hinder the ominous roar of the surging Shorenji river below and it sounded a dire warning to any local’s ear. The summer had been particularly unkind to this hilly patch of the province. Excessive rains and crumbling sediments had swollen the waters well beyond their usual banks. The jagged rocks that normally peeked up through the calm current were now submerged, and all the more dangerous for it.

A single, narrow footbridge spanned the dividing gap. It was the only crossing in sight for this treacherous valley. And it was the only destination to which she could have been called. The first scattered drops of rain made the ground slick and Aina took extra care in every step on her perilous descent. She was so focused, she already had one foot on the weathered boards of the bridge before she caught sight of what lay ahead.

A solitary silhouette stood at its center, but it wasn’t the one she’d expected to find. And Aina found her hand moving to the hilt of her sword for the second time that day. It wasn’t Sandayu that awaited her at the bridge’s center, but Sumi.

As Aina struggled with the strangeness of this turn of events, her mother’s dark eyes found her. The look was scathing, but not unexpectant. Before Aina could do anything more than glare suspiciously back, her mother had turned unconcernedly away again. She stared pensively down into the valley below. Her nonchalants was such that Aina half considered the possibility that her presence was strictly coincidence before Sumi broke the silence with a leading sigh.

“How long do you intend to make me wait? ...Come here,” she called, sparring Aina another haughty glance.

Aina didn’t move. In her mother’s simple summons, she could hear the echo of Sandayu’s warning years before. “Slip thy guard, and she shall kill you…” It had been three years since those prophetic words had been delivered. And looking into the harsh lines of her mother’s profiled face, it was hard to see her as anything other than the lethal threat she’d been painted. Yet...

...it had to be said that nothing had come of that warning since. Despite a number of visits to the village after her first, Sumi had never sought an audience with her daughter, much less a conflict. She had avoided so much as eye contact with her in fact. The few encounters they had shared had been strictly in Sandayu’s company and largely uneventful. If she’d had any opinion on Aina then, whether motherly or murderous, she had kept it well hidden.

Aina raked the woman’s stance suspiciously but found nothing to warrant concern. She appeared relaxed, with no shadow of a weapon in sight. Alarm bells were screaming in Aina’s head, all of them saying this theory was better left untested. And yet in that faintest possibility that Sumi could want something more was a feeble ray of hope that held her in place.

Family may have been a trivial idea for Iga, but it still existed in its most minimal form. Or at least it did for every other children her age. Tailing the peers in her youth had shown her as much. They had a home to return to each night, where sound sleep could be found. Most of them had food provided, without the looming threat of being poisoned with every bite. And even the most indifferent parent was still a guardian first. Someone who cared. It was a small, but significant luxury that they took for granted. And contrary to anything she might say, it was one Aina had always envied.

Sandayu provided for her instruction, her diet and her bed, but all in their harshest forms. And everything had to be earned. It was hard to say that she had ever received any semblance of real affection from him beyond the bundles of herbs… which had never been confirmed. And curled up alone, battered and bruised most nights despite giving her very best, Aina had harbored the frailest dream. The dream of having a parent that genuinely cared. Of being loved.

Therefore it was against all her better judgement, that Aina chose to brave the gap between them. She took each step more carefully than the last and her hand never left the hilt of her sword. When she was no more than a couple yards away however, her instincts won out. She stopped. Striving to remain reticent, Aina waited. Her mother’s eyes were watching her now and she seemed to chose her words with the utmost care.

“I’ve been told you’re doing well,” Sumi finally said. There was a warmth to her words that Aina has never heard before. From anyone. “...How old are you now? Eight? Nine?”

“...I will be ten next season,” Aina answered, voice flat despite the flaring hope.

The creases by her mother’s eyes deepened at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Her gaze turned momentarily harsh as she studied the fine lines of her daughter’s face. There was a twinge of bitterness that barbed her next words.

“...You look just like your father.”

Aina felt sting like a blade to the chest. Despite the lack of insult in her mother’s tone, it certainly felt like one. She felt her face fall back into apathetic lines, hiding the hurt behind them.

“Why are you here, mother?” she asked, bitingly.

Sumi gave her a calculating look, then untucked one arm from around her chest. In her hand, a small, roll of parchment caught the light of the moon. It immediately drew Aina’s eyes.

“Sandayu has decided that you will take a greater role in the village operations. He thinks you’re ready.”

There was a forced flatness to Sumi’s tone, though Aina hardly noticed it when her words meant so much more. Sumi twisted the paper meaningfully between her forefinger and thumb. A new mission...

Aina had taken a half-step forward before sense pulled her back. Something didn’t feel right. Greater responsibility she could buy. It was what she’d been working toward, after all. And if Saizo was soon to be otherwise occupied, she was the clear choice to take up the mantle. But…

“Why isn’t this coming from the master? Why you?” Aina voiced the questions with every ounce of skepticism she felt. “And why Kaochidani?”

“The mission’s in Ise, and its where I’ve been stationed,” she answered simply, nodding briefly toward the southerly province ahead. “Due to the urgency of your task, the master,” she spat the title with particular venom, though it seemed unrelated to Aina herself, “...bade me deliver the message myself and escort you there.”

Something still felt...off. Even as Aina’s tried to rationalize her suspicions, Sumi heaved a faint sigh of sadness that drew her attentions away. “It’s so seldom that I’m allowed to see you. Thanks to Sandayu’s protection.”

There was an oddly passionate look in her mother’s eyes as she finally held out the mission script for her to take. Drawn in by the sincerity of her words, Aina reached out for the proffered paper.

At least she’d still had the sense to use her left hand.

As her fingers brushed the parchment, Sumi’s other hand was suddenly there. It seized painfully around Aina’s extended wrist. Jerked forward, Aina failed draw her sword in time. A flash of metal and the thin timbers pitched underfoot. Her feet left the ground and Aina’s fingers could find no purchase on her mother’s wrist. Sword forgotten, her other hand clawed empty air as the world turned on its head. And Aina was thrown forward into darkness.

Her mother’s hardened expression, moving rapidly away, told her this had been planned all along.

There was nothing to be done, no time to feel shame.

The bridge was gone. Any hope well out of reach.

All that remained was a blur of wind and stars.

Then sudden contact and pain and blackness swallowed even that.

-------

Aina woke in a storm of water and foam, of darkness and shimmering lights. There was a distant, tingling in her neck but it was the unendurable pressure in her chest that dominated her thoughts. The severe, immediate need to breath. She let go. She inhaled, and found the air rushing in to be cold and impossibly thick. Her body convulsed in protest and she tried again. Waves of water were flooding past her lips and into her lungs. She was drowning. She was dying!

The realization sent panic into Aina’s dulled mind. She fought to move, to live! But found only a tingling weightlessness in her arms. She felt incredibly weak against the heavy current that bombarded her body. Blurry silhouettes were rushing past and swirling blackness surrounded her on all sides. There was no clear direction in which to move and a dense, dark cloud was descending before her eyes with every second the passed.

Flashes of thought drifted in the depth. Of Sandayu and Iga, of spring and bundles of herbs. Of the peach and its sweetness, of Saizo and fluttering, black wings. Of warm summer rain… and her mother’s hollow words...

A sudden, blunt force hit her back and Aina’s chest compress. A blinding pain shattered along her neck where the dull ache had been. As instinct threw her head back in a soundless scream, Aina felt her face break into warm, life-saving air. It was brief relief. A glimpse of a cloudless, starry sky, a lung-full of heaven, and the water returned. But with the air came a clear, forceful resolve. She would not die here!

Clinging to her one breath for every second of life it was worth, Aina forced her eyes to open despite the sting of water and silt. She stared into the storm around her and found light. They were fragments of colors glistening in darkness and they seemed as far away as the stars themselves. But as Aina reached out feebling for them nonetheless, her fingers found purchase on stone. The current beat on her ruthlessly for her effort, but she clung on. Her other hand found grip and Aina emerged into open air. Her own violent coughs threatened to loose her grip and every small progress brought a searing pain.

finally, Aina collapsed on her side in the shallows with little memory of the arduous journey it had taken to crawl there. There was fresh air in her lungs and for the moment, that was all that mattered. She was alive.

As adrenaline began to wear off and her breathing slowed, the first indications became apparent that something was very wrong. She was shivering despite the warm night air. Her left arm still felt oddly numb. And the clammy sensation of blood was tickling over her skin. She had experienced enough injuries to recognize the symptoms of a bad one.

She ran her more responsive right hand down her neck. Her fingers found an long, ominous tear in her clothes and beneath it… Aina gasped as crippling pain flared at her touch. The wound was deep, stretching from the left side of her neck down her back. She couldn’t tell how far, but her fingers came back with copious amounts of blood. If she didn’t do something to stop it soon, she would die, whether she’d escaped the river or not.

So, despite the wear of fatigue and the intense pain that every movement caused, she forced herself up. Aina removed her kosode and used the soiled remains to bandage the wound. It took a torturous amount of time. And even as she tied the final knot between teeth and her trembling right hand, she knew it had been poorly done. ...but it was the best she could manage on her own.

More exhausted than she could even remember being in her life, she wanted nothing more than to collapse on the spot. But the pounding rain on her back told her that would be a poor choice to make. Half naked, half drowned and covered in blood, she knew she wouldn’t last long so fatally exposed. Survival lessons echoed in her mind; shelter first, rest would follow.

Even as her battered body quivered in protest, Aina stumbled to her feet. It took far longer than it should have for her to calculate direction from the river’s flow and the few stars visible above. Her way finally set, Aina staggered up the steep grade and off into the forest beyond.

------

She lost track of her steps and the time in between. Between the pounding rain and her blurred vision, the forest became a surreal landscape of dreams and mist. When it appeared, the distant house looked more illusion than substance. Mildewed with broken eaves, probably rain-drenched and rotten, it was still shelter. It was salvation. The door was already ajar, as if inviting her in. Aina was so consumed by the promise of rest, her feet had carried her near enough to touch...before she heard the quiet jingle of bells. Scattered thoughts clicked briefly in recognition.

Sandayu.

Aina thought of the herb bundles and imagined deliverance at hand. But even as hope flared, Aina realized she’d overlooked the whisper of words from within the cottage walls. And it wasn’t his alone. The addition of that barbarous female voice froze the breath in her chest.

“...been allowed to live.”

That was Sumi’s hiss. She had no doubt.

“...yet, you ne’r made any assay before tonight.”

And Sandayu’s unmistakable jargon in response.

Aina lost a sense for their words as she tried to make puzzle of these impossibilities. Why was the master here? And with her? Of all people, of all the times… How could they be talking so casually together after… after… Her head and her heart was pounding. Sandayu’s provocative laughter helped her focus by the sheer danger it instilled.

“...Dumplings over flowers, imouto. Your weeds proven more lethal than most the village thorns.”

“AND YOU would have had her SERVE for that alone!”

Cruel laughter again. “Heavens, no. But even weeds serve their purpose.”

Fuzzy as her mind was, Aine couldn’t follow. They seemed to be talking in riddles. And the pounding bullets of rain on her head were doing nothing to help her think… until her mother’s next words left her in no doubt about whom they were speaking.

“Oda’s spawn has no place here, OR PURPOSE.”

“...The subtleties always did escape thou. Why waste a life when its death hath use? Oda could hast fallen to his own discarded seed.” Aina could hear the hollow smile in his voice even as the wall stood between. “...now an un-akined hand will have that task. How dreary…”

“And after?”

The fading humor was just as audible in his words as the smile. “E’en her death shouldst have further another's path.”

Aina backstepped.

What little blood she had left had run cold. She felt lifeless on her feet. Sandayu. Her master, her mentor, was speaking of her death with the same apathy that had graced their lessons together.

Aina turned away from the only shelter in sight. The lingering conversation faded as distance passed.

All the time, all the training. What had it been for? The herbs… the advice… his attentions. It all felt as elusive as a memory now.

Aina walked on. She stumbled more than once into mud and stood again. Her mind was on everything but her footsteps. Some deeper instinct told her she was being too loud. That she should try to control her rapid breathing and her sloshing thread. She should be quiet with threats so close behind. Sumi, and Sandayu.

It hurt more than the wound on her shoulder to lump the master in with the woman. The woman who had just tried to kill her. Their words were still so fresh in her mind. Tears mingled with rain on her cheeks, and she didn’t care. What did it matter? Let them hear, let them come. She had already died once tonight anyway.

Aina stopped. The last thought drowned out every other.

She had already died once tonight.

She looked back. She didn’t know how long she’d been walking in the daze of her thoughts. The abandoned house, with mentor and mother, was long out of sight. And the heavy rain left an impenetrable curtain in between. No one was pursuing her. ...why would they? They thought she had already died, a victim to the river. And Aina made up her mind.

Whoever had walked from the Shorenji river. Whatever spirit had stood outside that house and listened to those words. Whoever it was that would wake up tomorrow, if she saw tomorrow at all... It wasn’t Aina.

Aina had died here in Iga tonight.

(( To be continued….))

#ILOVEVOLTAGEINC #VOLFEST2019CONTEST #slbp #slbp fanfic #slbp saizo #slbp sandayu #OMG THIS WAS WAY TOO LONG #oda of iga #odaofiga

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