As dawn began to break in the Land of Floods, and sunlight peered its amber mane over the horizon, a quiet gust blew a flock of leaves around Shinji’s feet. Clad in nothing more than a pair of shorts, he stood near the edge of Heiwa Yamaharu. No shirt on his back, no shoes on his feet, and no items to accompany him. Looking at him, as an outsider, one would think he was preparing for a dip into the water. From the perspective of someone who knew the boy, they would make out a certain flair in his crimson eyes that said otherwise. Today wasn’t a day that this chunin was going to be spending by lounging around and having fun. Today was the day he would overcome the mental blockades that he had been hurdling over on repeat these last five years.
After Kagami, the blue haired enchantress and host of the sanbi, had invaded Arashigakure during the Kogarashi war, Shinji had been on high alert. It was exhausting. A constant state of hidden panic filled his bones and kept him up at night. Slowly he had been able to fight back the distress it was plaguing him with, but it was ultimately a losing battle. When he closed his eyes and began to drift into the realm of sheep and dreams, memories flooded his head and snapped him back to consciousness. Images of Kagami being torn to pieces by his Kage, made worse by her revelation that she was with child. Those followed closely by the sights he saw while tending to the wounded in the aftermath of Kogarashi’s onslaught. The death of a shinobi who he had later found out was named Nikkou, who had left an heirloom to his would-be savior. That would be enough to wake the poor shinobi from even the deepest of sleep.
Shinji was not used to seeing death firsthand. In fact, Nikkou was the only person who he had personally witnessed pass on. Shinji had spoken with a woman named Kagerou shortly after, who had given him some advice on how to cope with the constant state of war and despair that veiled over their world. She had told him that it was better to focus on the individuals caught in the war than the war itself. Sound advice; however, she couldn’t have predicted the extent of the fall that was soon to happen to Shinji over the course of these past five years. Over time, the anger he had built up inside began to fester, eventually tearing at his sanity and making way for even deeper issues to take root. This wasn’t anger towards Kogarashi or Kagami’s entourage. No, this anger was directed at himself.
Shinji wholeheartedly believed that if he had been stronger, he could have prevented the blue haired woman’s death, as well as have been able to stop the war before any casualties had befallen either side. The anger at his own inadequacy devolved quickly over time. His mental anguish these past few years turned to self-doubt, then further eroded into a deeper lack of confidence in his abilities. The only grace that came from it was his drive to become stronger to combat his weakness. He had honed his skills in the dark of the night when he couldn’t sleep. Every morning he would return home exhausted and threatening to faint. He would spend a few minutes regaining his strength then set out to assist in various affairs around the village or head out on a mission. This cycle repeated daily until he was unable to stand, and forced himself to rest just to pick back up wherever he left off.
The only break he had in this cycle was during a journey he had taken a few months after the war. Shinji had received permission to pursue a place known as Ryuchi Cave, home to the matron of snakes, Ginda. It was a cavern that was known to be sacred. One of the fabled sage lands that sparsely dotted the world they knew. While within the dark and musty caves, Shinji had encountered a man who had, possibly unknowingly, mentioned a phrase of wisdom that had become Shinji’s driving force over the remainder of this era of peace. That single phrase was what brought the white haired boy to these springs today.
Heiwa Yamaharu, a peaceful mountain spring that was renowned for its healing properties. The rumors were that there was a spirit residing in the nearby sakura tree that was responsible for the clear and pure waters that filled this pool, and further took it upon itself to punish those who would see harm done in its presence. Luckily, Shinji was here for peaceful reasons. As a precaution, he smiled warmly towards the tree, in case there was indeed a spirit inhabitant within its form, and stepped out into the water. He gathered chakra into the bottom of his feet in order to walk along the surface. Another step, and a third after. He repeated this process until he was directly in the center of the pool, then sat atop its clear surface. His movements tracked by a series of ripples. The waves along the surface calmed themselves until the springs were still once more. With legs crossed and hands set in his lap, Shinji’s eyes fluttered shut as he began to meditate. Only one thought crossed his mind during this process. “Life is motion.”
A few moments passed with his vision obscured by complete darkness, focusing on the feeling of air filling his lungs. He was aware of every minute vibration of the wind as it brushed his skin. Once he was sure he had achieved perfect stillness, his mental focus shifted until it was trained between his eyes, but slightly higher. The spot that someone who had reached enlightenment would tell you was the home of the Third eye. A point dedicated to awareness and perception. When someone is walked through the steps of their first meditation, the instructor often tells you to envision a small fire igniting on this point. From there they tell you to allow your imagination to take over, and let this fire evolve into whatever form it wishes to take. It is supposed to signify your own will, your essence. They don’t tell you what it should look like, as the exact form it takes is only important to your individuality.
Shinji’s fire began in a blue color, before slowly shifting to a bright shade of red, then further lightening to a pinker color. Golden metallic arms sprouted from behind it and connected to form what would be recognizable as a Celtic knot, before an eye opened behind the fire, with the pupil merging with the flame. After a few moments, Shinji would feel as if his chakra was being pushed out of his body, suspending it in the air around him. Outwardly, this wasn’t a reality. If someone happened to be watching on the banks of the spring, they would see no chakra apparitions. However, they would notice a constant series of ripples that spread out from under Shinji’s sitting form across the surface of the water, intersecting and forming an intricate floral pattern. Inwardly, a drowsiness washed over Shinji and the mental illusion of his flame-shaped will evaporated.
Shinji opened his eyes as he felt his body sink slightly into the water. At first, he attributed it to a lack of focus on his chakra control, but then he remembered what was going on. He had triggered a genjutsu that only affected himself. This was nothing more than a trance. His eyes drooped slightly, from an alert and slightly panicked state to that of a tired and sad gaze. His body sank deeper and deeper into the water. Much deeper than the pool would be, further reminding him of the trance he was in. Once the light penetrating the surface was far out of reach, Shinji closed his eyes. A soft lullaby sang in his ears. He recognized the tune. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was but a babe. It had been so long since he had heard the sweet, singsong voice. His mother no longer sang to him. She felt he was too old for lullabies. The sound of the melody brought a soft smile to his lips; Shinji had nearly forgotten his younger days. His eyes closed as he sank deeper and deeper into the water, breathing easy despite being completely submerged in an ocean of illusory water.
He allowed the song to bring forth forgotten aspects of his memories. Images of him dancing with his mother in the kitchen, his father sitting idly by laughing at the two having their fun. Those memories turned to vapor and swirled around his mind before reforming into more innocent pictures from his youth. Days where he would play out in the yard. His family had a cat that served as his only companion for many years. They would often be seen outside running around and playing with each other much like the other village children. To the Ketsueki clan, this was a commonplace occurrence, but to outsiders it might have brought a tinge of sadness knowing that the only friend for the young boy was little more than a pet. The end of this vision was his father calling him into the house for dinner. Instead of vapor, this image was overcome with black currents, dragging with them a slight skip into the future of that same memory, pausing as the family was sat around the table for their meal.
Shinji’s brow furrowed as a layer of static veiled over the memory, tearing away at the vision and showing him a barren landscape with scattered blades. The static faded and returned momentarily to the happy days he was reliving. More static showcased a shaded figure on the horizon, walking towards him. This process repeated, with each overlay having the figure getting closer and closer. Eventually some of the features of the mystery person could be seen. Clad in all black, a mask in the shape of a rabbit covering its face. A tattered scarf wrapped around its neck, and traditional Japanese garbs covered its body. The figure had black hair, but there was something familiar about them. A nagging personal connection that Shinji couldn’t quite place. There was a longer delay of static this time, as the figure continued to step closer, this time plucking one of the blades from the ground and brandishing it, before the static faded into Shinji’s days at the academy, specifically graduation day. When he was given an honorary title as the classes foremost armed fighter.
All at once, the vision disappeared. No more static this time. He could see the full picture as the stranger rushed towards him, ready to swing his blade and cleave through Shinji entirely. Instinct took over the boy. He flipped backwards to dodge the bladed swing, the water allowing for easy, but slightly sluggish movements. As he came back to a vertical position, he fell from the water and landed on the ground. The same barren wasteland that had been interrupting his memories. The figure paused momentarily as it processed that its attack was dodged. It straightened its body and sheathed the blade into an empty scabbard strapped onto its side. The figures foot shifted forward. As it did so, the bloody image of Kagami’s dismemberment forced its way into Shinji’s vision. The prominent illusion was so sudden and so powerful that he closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. As he reopened his crimson pools, the figure was already upon him, drawing the blade with a swift motion, aiming to take off Shinji’s head.
In order to block the attack, Shinji glanced to the side and picked up one of the scattered weapons, swinging his arm as fast as he could in order to place the blade in the way of the figures strike. The resulting clash shattered the silence with a loud metallic ring. Although the attack had been blocked, the force of the clash sent Shinji backwards a considerable distance. He skittered across the ground, losing grip on the blade and coming to a halt several meters away. This time, the figure didn’t advance. Instead, it spoke. The voice coming from behind the mask was equally as familiar as its presence, but it was slightly warped and pulsating with an unrecognizable noise. ”Shitsui,” the figure’s singular word made Shinji c**k his head. He began to connect the dots as he worked to stand up. If this was all happening deep within Shinji’s unconscious mind, then perhaps the figure was operating similarly to Shinji’s philosophy. If that was the case, then it was introducing itself. After all, giving your name to your opponent was a sign of respect.
”Shitsui. That’s your name?” Shinji asked, brushing dust from his body. Strangely, he found that somewhere between falling through the water and this moment, clothing had surrounded his body. Garbs of the same style as this figure’s, but opposite in color, as well as an empty scabbard strapped to his side. The figure, Shitsui, nodded its head solemnly, but behind the mask was a slightly sinister smile. ”Okay then. Shinji.” As he gave his own name, the white haired lad found the nearest sword and placed the tip into the scabbard on his side, sliding it through until it rested comfortably at his side. These warriors exchanged no more words. They simply locked eyes and waited, observing their opponent as a gust of wind blew up some dust between them. The air was tense. The scene was similar to a duel between two cowboys in old western films, waiting for the clock to strike high noon before either drew their gun. As the cloud of dust passed out of their way, it seemed that served as the signal these two needed to begin their clash.
Their bodies blurred momentarily as they rushed forward, meeting in the middle with a drawing of their blades. Sparks flew as the blades made contact. At face value, the two were even. However, it would soon become apparent that Shinji was outmatched by Shitsui. The singular clash created a gust of wind around the pair that kicked up more dust, clouding the pair and obscuring Shinji’s vision. Shitsui didn’t seem hindered by this, as he used it as cover in order to release his sword and rush around, picking up a second blade cleaving through the dust from behind Shinji. The slash connected with the boy’s shoulder but went no deeper than a few centimeters seeing as Shitsui had already released the sword and vanished again. The dust made perfect cover as a third, fourth, and fifth blade sunk slightly into Shinji’s flesh from varying angles. The sixth came and slashed into his abdomen. After the barrage had seemingly ended, the dust blew away and revealed Shitsui standing several meters away.
”Focus.” The voice spoke, slightly clearer now, but Shinji still couldn’t place how he knew it. His eyes widened as he realized there were more strikes coming. Sequentially, an additional six blades impaled his flesh at various angles. He knew the technique that had been used. It was known as Addition, but it seemed that Shitsui had no intention of following up with the Multiplication technique. Shinji huffed a sigh of slight relief, then winced in pain as the blades fell off onto the ground. To his surprise, upon further inspection, there were no physical wounds left behind. Not even a rip in his clothing. It made sense. This was a battle taking place in his mind, after all. This wasn’t a battle to the death; it was a war of attrition. The winner was the one who would force surrender from the other. Any damage that was dealt was merely superficial and served no greater purpose than to prove superiority. This did raise a question. Why was there a battle in the first place? Shinji narrowed his eyes at Shitsui and decided he wanted to understand exactly what the purpose of this fight was.
”What is this?” ”This is your wish being realized.” A short, and cryptic response. Was he referring to Shinji’s desire to overcome the mental distress he had been encumbered by? ”I don’t understand,” he muttered, which resulted in a change in stance from Shitsui. The black-clad figure picked another blade from the ground as it readied another strike. ”Then allow me to explain.” Instead of continuing the response, Shitsui rushed forward before blurring out of sight. A stinging sensation erupted in Shinji’s stomach as he watched a fuzzy-looking blade slash straight through him. Then, everything went black.
As color returned to his vision, the landscape began to change. Walls began to build themselves up from the ground, forming a box around him and a ceiling overhead. A thin veil of smoke crept in from the corners of the walls and collected in various positions, swirling around before they collected into the form of objects to line the walls and dot the floor. The smoke evaporated and left the room furnished. He recognized this room. It was Toso’s office. Shitsui walked around from behind Shinji. ”This was where everything began, correct? The introduction to your turmoil.” His body began to fade, his voice becoming a nearly incoherent whisper. ’Now remember.’ Phantoms filled the room, taking their positions around him in familiar poses. A pool of black spread along the floor, sprouting tendrils that stretched forth and attached themselves to pieces of memory. As the vision solidified, a perfect replica was formed of the Arashikage’s office just after he had ripped apart the blue haired villain. Despair filled Shinji’s eyes as he was once again face to face with the needless carnage. The familiar stench of copper filled his nose, and a wet feeling dripped onto his cheek. The moment was frozen in time for a few seconds before everything began to happen in reverse. Kagami was pieced back together, the tentacles retreated into the pool of ink, and the scene paused once Shinji was seated next to Toso, just before Kagami and her entourage burst into the room.
Shinji tried to close his eyes, but found he was unable. He tried to plead for the image to stop, but his voice was mute. In perfect order, he watched the scene play out, then as soon as Kagami’s body was dismembered, the scene froze. Shitsui stepped out from behind the large oni woman. ”This scene. What was significant about it? Why did it cause you such grief?” As he finished his question, he vanished again, causing the scene to rewind once more. ”Stop!” Shinji’s plea was met with silence, but the scene continued to reset. As the events played out once more, Shitsui’s voice repeated his question. ”Why did it cause you such grief?” This time, Kagami’s dismembered head picked up speaking, peering into Shinji’s desperately hopeless eyes, adding even deeper levels of horror to the scene. ”I wished to destroy your entire way of life. Why did my death impact you in such a negative way?” Shinji dropped to his knees, clutching his head. He screamed in agony as things began to rewind a third time. This process continued for what felt like hours.
Each time left Shinji more scarred than the last, until he was left in a perpetual state of numb. His eyes felt as if they had sunken in. The figures faded away and left only Shinji in the room. The door opened and Shitsui stepped throught the threshold. ”Have you found an answer yet?” His question came with a short chuckle. Obviously, this figure had a strange enjoyment at the despair it was inflicting. Shinji lifted his head to glare at Shitsui. ”What? Are you trying to tell me that death is meaningless? That I shouldn’t let this get to me because it was deserved?” Shitsui shook his head. ”Clearly you have learned nothing.” A wave of the hand brought back the scene, allowing it to play through again. Overtop the noises of the event, Shitsui’s voice interjected into Shinji’s thoughts. ’This death is not meaningless. Focus. Why did this death have an impact on you? What about this instant tore you apart? Until you can answer that, you will remain stuck here.’ Several more hours passed with this scene replaying on a loop. Eventually, Shinji called out to Shitsui. He was ready to give an answer.
”Shitsui, come out. I’ve got an answer now,” he said angrily. The scene paused, right as Toso’s tentacles were piercing into Kagami. As Shitsui appeared, fading into existence, Shinji waved his hand. Being deep within the subconscious, the scene reacted to his movement and resumed playing in slow motion. Shinji watched with eyes full of sadness as she was torn apart. ”This death wasn’t necessary, but it was unavoidable. The events that lead up to this moment can’t be changed. We pleaded for her to change her mind, but she didn’t budge. In the end, she played us all for fools and nearly succeeded in her plan,” another wave of the hand and the phantoms in the room dispersed, leaving only Shinji and Shitsui. ”Death is common for shinobi, but it shouldn’t be. If we lived in a better world, then differences could be solved without resorting to needless violence.” ”A sound answer. But, what do you plan to do about it?” Shinji thought for a while and sat on the ground. ”The only thing I can do is to try and resolve things without confrontation, but that won’t be enough. I just have to accept that you can’t prevent death, right?” Shitsui clapped his hands as the vision faded.
As the vision of Lord Arashikage’s office disappeared, Shinji found that nothing had changed. They returned to the barren landscape, just as he was being cut down by Shitsui’s attack. To his relief, returning to this moment had a converse effect than what would be suspected. Rather than feeling pain from the attack, Shinji felt as if a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. Shitsui straightened up and sheathed his blade as Shinji turned to face him. A curious expression spread across the white-haired boys face. ”What was that?” He asked his question, but the only reply he got was Shitsui placing a finger to his mask, signaling for quiet. ”You will understand in due time. Ready your blade,” Shinji used a body flicker technique to move away from Shitsui and reappeared in an area densely packed with blades.
Instead of picking one up, he gestured for Shitsui to advance. The masked man smiled and rushed forward. He picked a second blade from the ground as he did so, and blurred from sight momentarily. Shinji wasted no time. Using the ball of his heel as a pivot, he spun around, plucking a sword from its resting place, charging it with his chakra. He used that sword to tap others during his rotation, causing them to spring up and rotate with him, floating in the air around him. The closer Shitsui got, he began to realize that the figure had no intentions of stopping. Instead, he was heading straight down the middle, aiming to strike a blow on Shinji. Shinji stopped his rotation, grabbing a second sword from the air as the rest continued to swirl around him. Once Shitsui was close, the masked figure swung both of his swords up in an ‘X’ shape, while Shinji parried both strikes. The next exchange went entirely in Shinji’s favor. He thrust one sword forward, while the other was held behind him. Shitsui leaned back slightly and used his own blade to push the strike to the side. Shinji used the motion to his advantage, twirling right along with it and bring the second blade around, slicing through Shitsui’s chest. The figure laughed and faded from existence, leaving Shinji alone. However, the voice was still present.
”Very good. It seems that you have improved slightly. Let’s see if you can improve even further,” the ominous statement sent a shiver down Shinji’s spine. The world around him shifted, the ground falling away beneath him and sending him tumbling into a crater with seemingly no end. He already knew what was coming. Another vision, which would force him to find an answer, then return to the previous exchange. The only question was, what was this going to be. If he had already accepted death, then what would be the next course of action to take? Shinji closed his eyes and breathed in, opening them to reveal this illusion. A clearing, surrounded by a forest with no signs of other life. Shitsui was already present, standing directly in the center. He smiled warmly and spread his hands. ”Welcome. Do you remember this place?” Shinji groaned. Of course he remembered. This was his preferred spot for when he would sneak out at night and train.
He nodded his head and took a few steps towards Shitsui. The figure kept his hands spread out, but a phantom blade materialized in one of them. Shinji’s eyes widened. He had never seen a weapon like that before. It wasn’t chakra, but it wasn’t a physical weapon either. A completely astral form stemming from some unknown technique. ”This place signifies something. Can you tell what that is?” Shinji already knew the answer. How could he not? This place was synonymous with Shinji’s weakness as a shinobi. The pinnacle of his feelings of inadequacy. The world beyond the trees in this trance was darker than night. Nothing lay beyond them. There was no escaping here. He had to solve this puzzle, and defeat this entity. ”If you can’t absolve yourself, then you will never be able to leave here. Now come.” ”But I don’t have a weapon. Isn’t this an unfair fight?” Shitsui shook his head and rushed forward.
The only thing Shinji could think to do for defense was to delve into the Kyotoryuu style’s techniques. After all, training in that style of taijutsu had effectively made the edges of his hands as deadly as a knife. He rushed towards his opponent and delivered a palm strike to the flat of the astral sword. To his surprise, it felt solid, and sent vibrations throughout Shitsui’s arms. As his opponent released the blade, Shinji made a grab for it. The blade, in response, evaporated into thin air. The shock gave an opening for Shitsui to drive his knee up into Shinji’s stomach, then knock him back with a palm strike to the chest. His white hair fluttered around him as he rolled along the ground. When he regained focus and stood, Shitsui had another astral sword in hand, shaking his head. This exchange continued, with Shitsui having a clear edge, but not necessarily from being the one armed. Instead, it felt to Shinji as if his body was being held down by something. Once again, Shitsui asked his question. ”What does this place signify?” Shinji shook his head, refusing to answer. ”If you don’t wish to answer, then remain here for eternity.” Shitsui vanished, leaving Shinji the sole inhabitant of the clearing.
Shinji sat down in the clearing, pulling his knees to his chest and fuming from being left alone. How dare that masked b*****d. Whatever psychological warfare he was employing, he definitely knew where to aim his points. He began muttering out loud, at first it was just curses towards Shitsui, but over time his one-sided conversation began to turn towards the question he was given.
”Oh course I know what this place signifies. This is all in my own mind, right? How would I not know. This is a place of weakness. I didn’t feel like I deserved to stand among my peers, that I was too weak to call myself a shinobi.” Shitsui stepped into the clearing from the darkness. ”And why was that?” ”Because I wasn’t able to stop that woman, I couldn’t change her mind, and as a result there were so many casualties, so many people were hurt.” Shitsui crouched down in front of Shinji. ”Yet you went out and trained endlessly. Don’t you think you’re strong enough now?” Shinji shook his head. ”Maybe I’m not as weak as I thought I was, but I’m still not strong enough. So long as there are people I can’t stop, I will never be strong enough.” To this end, Shitsui reached out a hand, offering it to Shinji, helping him to his feet.
As their hands parted, a strange red aura surrounded Shinji’s palm. ”Then perhaps the issue isn’t weakness. Perhaps the issue is simply a lack of strength. That, you can strive for -” ”-but true weakness cannot be overcome.” As the white haired lad finished the darker-haired figures sentence, a smirk spread behind the mask. Shitsui held his hand out and revealed a similarly colored aura that had been placed upon Shinji’s hand, which then materialized into another astral katana. Shinji’s brow furrowed as he watched, but then turned his focus to his own hand. He closed his fingers around the aura as if he were holding the hilt of a sword. The crimson colored aura unfolded into an astral weapon of his own, but the excitement was short lived. Shitsui walked towards Shinji and slashed through his body. Again, there was no pain from this strike. Instead, another weight lifted from his shoulders.
”Look.” An order with a point of the finger drew Shinji’s gaze to his body. He watched as a series of astral chains fell away from him, disappearing into particles of light. ”What is that? ”That, friend, was the shadows in your mind weighing you down. No longer chained around you, freeing you from their clutches.”
The forest melted away. The ground stretched out until they were standing again atop the barren wasteland. Shitsui nodded in approval to Shinji, and reached up to take hold of his mask. ”This has been productive, but it is about time for you to go back, don’t you think?” Shinji bowed his head as a sign of respect. When he had fallen into this place, he wasn’t sure what was going on. All he had known was that there was an attack aimed at him from a mysterious masked figure, and everything since had been a roller coaster of emotions. ”Thank you.” Shitsui shook his head, slowly removing the mask as he did so.
”No need to thank me. I am just doing what needed to be done,” during his reply, the color of his dark hair faded to a bright shade of snow. The mask, being fully removed, had been hiding something that Shinji should have seen coming. He was standing directly across a mirror reflection of himself. Shitsui, who Shinji realized was a manifestation of his subconscious mind, readied his astral blade in a Kendo stance. ”Now, let’s finish this.” Shinji readied his blade similarly, and the two moved swiftly towards the other. The astral blades clashed, and folded together to form a wave of the crimson colored energy. The flash of light filled the area, a bold dance of ideals mingling in one mind.