THE LAND OF WAVES
He was an Ego.
Upon his descent into his new vessel, the Prime E̡̲̗͇͋̀ͪ̐̈̆̌͐̕͞g̜͈͉͎͍ͤ͆ͦoͥ̀̊́̕ deemed it fitting to bestow upon him the name Jinrui.
Humanity.
A soft smile caressed his lips at the irony of the name. He was no human; that was for certain. He was not but a coalesced mass of chakra and the life essence of a living sacrifice. An improved iteration of the famed shadow clone:
A blood clone.
An Ego granted complete autonomy.
Jinrui stood barechested, dressed in faded jeans and a well-worn fishing hat, at the edge of a weathered pier jutting out into the vast expanse of the sea. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the wooden pillars filled the air, creating a soothing symphony that mingled with the rustling of nearby nipa palms.
To the outsider observed he would have appeared deeply engrossed in his task. And in some sense, that might have well been true. His large, calloused hands moved with purpose, deftly threading a fishing line through the eyelets of his trusty rod. Along the length of the beachline behind him, a dense thicket of mangrove trees stretched out like nature's sentinels, their gnarled roots reaching out from the muddy banks, interlacing with each other and creating a maze-like network. The mangroves stood as guardians of the delicate ecosystem that sustained the battered economy of his new home. Their deep green leaves provided a mystifying contrast against the mysterious grey of the mist that hung over the calm azure of the sea.
A disquieting beauty.
Jinrui set his bait, before sitting to wait. Not too long after, a pair of light footsteps padded towards him.
“Jinrui,” Inari called behind him.
“Sup, kiddo,” the clone replied. “Got bored waiting at home?”
The boy nodded. Jinrui patted the wooden floorboard beside him.
“Join me.”
The two sat in companionable silence for several minutes before the boy spoke again.
“Jinrui.”
“Yes, Inari?”
“...Why is there so much hurt in the world?”
The clone paused for a moment, turning to look down at the boy sitting beside him. Inari’s face was placid, his gaze tranquil.
Jinrui smiled, placing his left hand on the boy’s head, and ruffling his hair. “The worlds of you mortals are cursed, Inari. Each and every one of them. For where the concept of power exists, abuse would quickly follow, its victims in tow. Mortal life is suffering. Hard.”
“...Power causes suffering?”
“No, Inari. The imbalance of power causes suffering.”
The child fell silent. “When the other you came, he said he could protect Mama. He said he was strong. How do I become strong?”
“...Hate, Inari. Your ego is still too weak to survive a transcendence, else this would have been a rather trivial matter. You don’t have enough… hate.”
The pair said nothing more. Jinrui rose, picking up the bucket containing his catch for the day before heading home. Inari, although absentminded, was fast on his heels.
***
The pair arrived home fifteen minutes later.
As he entered, Inari ran up to Tsunami, catching her in a quick hug before dislodging himself and making a beeline upstairs to his room. The woman’s soft gaze lingered on the staircase up which the child disappeared before turning back to regard the other person in the house.
“How was your day, Tsunami?” Jinrui asked, carrying the bucket of fish to the kitchen.
“Fine,” came the woman’s reply. “How was yours?”
“It was okay. Caught some willow and three eels. For dinner, we could make fried willow for Inari since he likes those more, and make Unadon for ourselves. What do you think?”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“...I am fine with that,” Tsunami replied hesitantly.
Jinrui turned around to face her. “Is there a problem?”
The woman squirmed uncomfortably as he regarded her. “...Yes,” she said finally.
Jinrui let one of his brows rise in curiosity. He put his hands under the running tap to wash it clean of the eel slime covering them before drying himself with a napkin. He walked up to her stopping just arm's length away from her where he leaned against the door frame. “Talk to me.”
“...I am not comfortable with the rumours that are going around the village about us.”
“Rumours?”
“Yes. The people all believe I somehow managed to seduce you into staying here. You, a wealthy traveller from a foreign land. They whisper to themselves that I am some Yōkai who brings misfortune to any man who beds me. My first two husbands are dead and now I have found a third who, in their opinion would soon, face a similar fate. If not at the hands of the numerous hoodlums lusting after your presumed wealth it would be at the hands of some random shinobi who takes a passing interest in you, they say.”
“You need not worry about me.”
“This is not about you! I am worried about what they would do to me. Or worse… my son. Greed and envy have pushed men greater than them to do deeds beneath even our station as civilians … I was refused trade at the market today. There is no rice in the kitchen; I couldn’t buy any. None of the merchants agreed to sell anything to me lest they draw the ire of… someone.
“I am scared, Jinrui.”
The clone stared at the woman in silence for a few moments before responding. “I will sort it out,” he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. The gesture seemed to have opened certain floodgates in her heart as she rushed forward, collapsing into his embrace as muted sobs shuddered through her body.
Jinrui looked up, his gaze meeting that of the boy peeking at them from the top of the stairs. He gestured with his head gently and the boy obediently returned to his bedroom.
“I will sort it out,” Jinrui repeated, massaging the centre of Tsunami’s back with his right thumb as she slowly calmed down. “Let me go out and get the rice, okay?”
Tsunami sniffled, attempting to hide her red-rimmed eyes as she stepped out of his embrace. “Okay.”
“Is there anything else you couldn’t get?”
“Yes. The shopping list is on the kitchen counter.”
Jinrui turned around to get said list before making his way to the exit.
“...Jinrui!”
“Yes, Tsunami?”
“...Thank you.”
The Ego smiled at her. “It’s nothing. Take care of yourself. I will be back in a few minutes.”
***
Jinrui walked through the slums, where shadows cast long and hope seemed but a distant memory. The air was heavy with the stench of decay and despair, an ever-present reminder of the hardships endured by those who called this place home.
Ramshackle wooden structures lined narrow, muddy alleyways, their crooked frames leaning precariously against one another as if seeking support in their collective fragility. The once vibrant colours that adorned their facades had long faded, replaced by a sombre palette of greys and browns, matching the spirit of the now desolate Land of Waves.
Thin wisps of smoke curled from makeshift chimneys, carrying with them the acrid scent of burning wood and desperation. Tattered scraps of cloth and shredded paper fluttered in the wind, remnants of a forgotten time when prosperity and dreams seemed within reach.
The townsfolk, dressed in worn and threadbare garments, moved with a slow, weary gait. Their faces were etched with lines of hardship and sorrow. Each step seemed to carry the weight of a thousand burdens, their tired eyes scanning their meagre surroundings for any semblance of salvation. A child, his sunken cheeks and vacant gazes a testament to his malnourished existence, roamed the streets with tattered toys clutched in trembling hands.
Laughter was a rare occurrence here, replaced instead by the hushed whispers of survival, the quiet desperation that lingered in the air like a palpable presence.
Jinrui didn’t stop walking though. Neither did anyone try to accost him despite the fact his right hand was heavily laden with valuable groceries. There was a reason he chose his current appearance after all. Towering height, imposing physique, a scarred visage, and a slightly more than passing resemblance to Kaiza, Inari’s second father.
Unlike the Prime, his dimensional proxy was physically intimidating.
And if somehow one did not consider that enough reason to avoid crossing him, they just need to look down at the ripped-off head and the trailing spinal column attached to it in his left hand to seriously reconsider that decision. As for who the unfortunate fellow sacrificed for this display was, let’s just say Tsunami won’t be having problems at the market again for a long time.
Jinrui arrived in front of one particularly obscure house. Tossing the desecrated head aside, he sharply rapped his knuckles on the door four times.
“Open up!”
The sound of shuffling footsteps came from behind the wooden barrier and three seconds later the door swung open.
“Master, you came,” announced the one who answered the door. The fellow had short spiky brown hair and small black-coloured eyes. He also appears to be very feminine looking with his lithe frame, painted nails and the mild blush on his face.
“Of course, Haruki,” Jinrui replied, handing the groceries over to the former thug. “You didn’t think I would just abandon you lot after all I have invested in you lot, did you? Find someone to drop this over with Tsunami, I expect no issues with a task this simple.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Jinrui watched as the lanky man rushed away to complete the task entrusted to him before turning around to face the other people in the room. “I see you’ve all been spending my hard-earned ryō well. Kenji, are those full cheeks I see at the sides of your face?”
The men inside all burst into rapturous laughter at that one fellow’s expense.
Jinrui observed the group with an analytical eye, making observations before filing conclusions away at the back of his mind to act upon at a later date.
“Alright, enough messing around,” the Ego said, all the humour in his countenance draining near-instantaneously. “I hope you lot have good news for me…
“How is the acquisition of Gatō’s shipping company going?…”