*ding*
A bell ringing gently is heard in a mind, not yet self-aware, shocking it into motion. A voice rings in said consciousness. It's tone the epitome of all emotion, yet also no emotion, asks a simple question.
[ Male... Female?... ]
The consciousness spreads itself to answer, 'Male'.
[ Date... of... birth?...: Randomized
...
...
...
Selected... Day of Kyuubi attack on Konohagakure no Sato... ]
[ Place... of... birth?... ]
The mind spreads once again, 'Konohagakure no Sato'.
[ Birth... Perk?...: List... of... - ]
The mind struggles to contain itself as it tries to calmly say a word,
'Sword!', the mind screams out, as if there was only that answer and nothing else.
[ 103,092 results for... "Sword!"... in perks... can you specify? ]
'Most restrictive', it's pseudo calm returning once more.
[ 1 Result... Sword's Only: Experience to sword related attacks, kata's, styles, and bloodlines + 50%, experience to all other weapon's attacks, kata's, styles, and bloodlines - 100%. Inability to use any other weapon besides one's chosen style of sword. Inability to use Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, or Fuuinjutsu. Damage with sword, 400% Dex, Damage unarmed 100% Str. ]
The mind accepts wholeheartedly in calm, behind a thinly masked veil of utter insanity knocking into the walls of its confines.
[ Bloodl-... Error... only one bloodline exists for perk... force accept... ]
[ Elemental affinity?... ]
'None'
[ Accepted application... Welcome to the Elemental Nations... ___ ]
The mid searches itself for several moments as it gains the most clarity it has had since awakening. Answering softly, 'Yabai no Ken'
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Pain, that's what he awoke to, pain. 'For once not self-inflicted', he chuckled darkly. What he meant to be a chuckle, however, turned out to be a giggle.
Surprised he tried to open his eyes to check his surroundings, his mind dulled by pain, eyes unresponsive from muscles seemingly never used, or perhaps atrophied.
'Injured?' he inquired to himself, 'Why can I remember nothing of myself?'. Bits and pieces of a shattered life came back to him, one mostly spent in an insane asylum being kept away from sharp things. What the feeble-minded, his words, didn't understand was, he didn't just want sharp things, they were okay, but he, he wanted a sword.
Voices, that's what he knew next, his limbs almost unresponsive and his eyes barely acting, unrecognizable voices come next.
[ Language comprehension... Skill created...]
"-sama... boy... Ken-sama" An elderly female voice slowly drawled exhaustedly. A voice laced with an emotion he didn't totally understand the warmness of came next, "My... Ken-chan..."
He started laughing hard as he remembered what had happened.
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"It's been five long years since I was reborn... Twelve since I held a sword... So much potential, yet unable to do anything... This world is the worst...' What seemed to be a bored child sat on his bed, staring at the wall the night before his fifth birthday, unable to sleep.
The child lay back and looked straight at the ceiling, 'Status'.
[ Locked ]
[ Name... Yaiba no Ken
Age... 4 Yrs, 11 months, 29 days
... Unable to give further readout until host undergoes rites... ]
Insanity flickers past the eyes of the young boy, staring at seemingly nothing. 'Why?... What could...' A sigh escaped his lips as he sits up while putting his back against the headboard of his bed, hitting the wall behind it a few times. No doubt waking his paranoid mother.
As if on cue, seconds later, a shunshin occurs a few feet away, a woman frantically reaches to his side table to light the lamp sitting on his bedside table. As the light flares, the woman sees the boy and smiles the warmest smile imaginable to the boy, "My little sword, why are you up?"
He looks up, his eyes growing warm at the site of his loving mother, something his past life gave him but took away much to quickly to be remembered. He answered lightly, in a tone almost impossible for his previous iteration of life, "Kaa-sama, I am sorry to have woken you, I'm just nervous about tomorrow and I want to begin training, I must become a shinobi, my hands itch for something but I don't know what..."
His mother looks surprised for a moment before her features once again turn into the impossibly warm smile she always shows him, "You are definitely your father's son, he was always looking for more time with what he desired, all that he desired. From the first moment you could speak you've wanted your namesake, but like I've told you, there can be no rushing it. Your father's family awakens on no certain date, his being his ninth birthday."
She scooted next to him, lifting him into her arms as she sat against the headboard and put him down in between her legs, back against her body. "My angel, in life you'll find you can not always have immediate satisfaction. You must always make sure you have supreme patience. Time is just your illusion, there is nothing but serenity, love, and acceptance of all things, good or bad."
He closes his eyes and loses himself to her words as feathers come to his vision behind his eyes, he drifts off to sleep. 'My mother's words... I was older than her once, yet now I feel as if I was nothing but an overgrown child... She has taught me so much... I must make her proud...'
His mother smiles to herself as she feels his breathing and heart slow to sleep. "Time is an illusion, but without such, there would be nothing... Use your time well, my little sword..." She leans back and closes her eyes.
The next morning he awakes to find his mother is no longer behind him, but instead several pillows hold him up, blankets are rolled and follow how his mom's arms were. 'Kawarimi, though I don't remember something so advanced from what I know of this world.'
He quickly gets dressed and moves out of his room down a small hallway in their two-bedroom apartment, his mother and father's room next to his.
In the den, he finds his mother doing laundry while humming a tune, her Anbu clothes and hitae-ate adorn her. She smiles happily hearing his padded footsteps against the floorboard, while quiet to most, his constant training can do nothing against her well-trained hearing battle-hardened through her many missions.
"My love," she calls out to his father, no doubt in the yard with his beloved Ninjato slicing through the air slowly to one of the family's kata's, "Our little sword has come out of his sheath for the day."
A lithe Japanese man, with short black hair and deep green eyes darker than jade, slowly steps into the house, semi-permanent emotionlessness on his cut and angular face. He smiles at his wife and child, his precious people for several moments, then grunts somehow warmly and walks to the table to sit.
He lifts his hand to his wife and child, "Yaiba no Hisako, Yaiba no Ken, today is my first-born's fifth birthday, I may not show it always, but you both are my heart and my joy. Thank you for giving me another year of memories I will carry beyond my grave."
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His over serious face breaks out into another smile, showing his grievous neck scars, from a battle with his brother at eleven, his clan known for their barbarism, a reason he moved to Konohagakure no Sato to become what his family of samurai hate most. Shinobi.
Hisako walks over to the table, her Anbu clothes hiding a lithe and fatless body, slightly shorter than her husband by a few inches, her face oval, slightly puffy cheeks most would call cute with deep blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. She smiles a beautiful smile and sits down at the table, her movements soliciting no sound, "Thank you, dear, it has been wonderful for me as well," she turns her head to her child as he slowly makes his way through the crowded living area to join them, "And you, my little sword, how has your year shaped up?"
The boy, five today, is taller than most his age, standing at the average height of an eight or nine-year-old, his blue-green eyes look over his mother and father, a small smile adorning his thin lips on a face with some baby fat still lining the edges of what is bound to be a face as angular and handsome as his father's, shaggy black hair tops his head that moves slightly as he walks.
"My year was great, mother," he looks to his father and nods slightly, "Father, I-" He was cut off by severe pain on his right hand, a tattoo slowly forming on his right hand in the shape of an intricately drawn, almost lifelike Katana. His screams frightened Hisako as she stood to jump over to him, his father's hand reaches over and places itself firmly on hers.
She looks at him, the screams still occurring, "Kentaro!" she said harshly, his eyes never leaving his agonized son, he lifted his hand, "He is awakening, my love, the pain is agonizing, but like all men of our line, it is a pain he will have to deal with every moment of his life."
She looks heartbroken, her training not helping at all as her son strained to continue screaming, beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and dampened his clothes.
Finally, after what seemed like decades to the young woman, he passed out, still slightly writhing on the floor. She tried once more to rush over, the hand of her husband still resting on her own, his hand signing once more. "We can not touch him until he is ready, he may lash out with his partner, he knows not how to control it, or himself any longer."
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He awoke, still on the floor, the pain in his hand ever-present as his consciousness slowly returns.
*ding*
[Status unlocked... All stats at one... Average of a non-combatant adult in the elemental nations...
Name... Yaiba no Ken
Level... 0
Experience... 0/100
Strength... 1 +24%
Dexterity... 1 +12%
Intelligence... 1
Wisdom... 1
Health... 1, 10/10
Chakra... 1, 50/50
Perks... Swords Only
Bloodline... Yaiba
Skills...
Stealth... Level 7... 228/700... Increases effectiveness of stealth, when out of a hiding place by 7%, in hiding place while standing still by 14%. Decreases sound made while moving... Passive/active... No Chakra cost...
Yaiba Hand to Hand... Level 24... 1293/2400... Increases Strength by 24%, Dexterity by 12%, and movement speed by 60%... Passive/active... No Chakra cost...
Yaiba Bloodline Katana... Level 1/10... 0/10000... Bloodline Katana of the Yaiba clan, it raises all damage by 25%, regeneration by 10%... Levels by killing... Experience gained depends on the life taken... Passive, summonable... 10 Chakra to summon, will not be able to regen chakra used to summon until Katana is unsummoned... ]
Stunned he read his status repeatedly, looking with glazed over eyes.
He sat up slowly after several minutes, the pain in his hand becoming a dull ache as he looked at it. A beautifully drawn Katana sat on his hand, as if always there. He reached out following instinct and felt the ache become slightly stronger as a sheathed Katana came out of nowhere to be held in his hand.
He pulled the sword out of its sheath, the sound of metal scratching against sharpening stone rang out as She was made known. The intricate wave on the blade where black met silver going all the way to the tip. It's hilt and guard a dull almost night-time black, with silver accents adorning it.
Near the hilt of the blade, an inscription was carved in beautiful Kanji, it read, "Time is Illusion, but We, Eternal."
He looked at his parents as they studied the beauty of his blade, Kentaro croaked out, "My god..." He knelt quickly next to his son studying the blade, croaking with his hoarse voice that spoke of the pain of his speech, "My son, you hold what is most dear to our clan, the Eternal was the first blade of our bloodline, 25 generations ago..." He gasped as he read the inscription of his blade.
"Time is Illusion?..." He looked to Hisako and smiled brightly, a smile Hisako had only seen three times, the first time they met, their wedding, and the day Ken was born. He held out his hand, "The original inscription was, 'You and I, Eternal', but it would appear your wisdom has rubbed off on our beloved little swordling."
Hisako smiled nervously and chuckled, "Yes, our son is quite brilliant, awakening on his fifth birthday, the Eternal, no less. Now, Ken-chan, the Yaiba bloodline is no simple thing, you now have a responsibility as your father's son to follow his teachings. Mainly, 'Protect your love, your life, and your home', or you must fight your father, defeat him, and make your own oath to your sword." She smiled heartily at her son, and chuckled once more as his shocked disbelieving face was still present.
His father continued with his hand, his serious face becoming cold, "Be warned, should you make a promise to your sword and break it, you will die, after losing yourself to bloodlust and killing everything you can find."
Ken looked up at his father, determination on his small, baby fat clung face. He stood slowly his sword in his left hand, sheath in his right, "I swear by my name as Yaiba no Ken, wielder of the Eternal Illusion, that I will protect my love, my life, and my home, on pain of death." His sword seeming to move on its own jabbed itself into his left hand down to the hilt. No blood sprayed or leaked.
The blade shone red for several moments before a voice entered his mind, feminine and emotional. "Honor your oath, my master, and live well. I will speak to you only once more in your life. Moments before your death. If you die by the hand of another, by your own, or by the illusion of time itself, I will grant you one last wish for your progeny. I am forever yours, in life and death. I shall be watching."
The blade disappeared into black particles along with his sheath and the wound that should be on his hand, simply wasn't.
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The next day, Ken awoke to the pain in his left hand, his Katana letting him know it's there.
Bags under his eyes from his lack of sleep because of said pain, and a portion of excitement. He slowly sat up, the sun shining in through his window in its morning glow. 'Five to six in the morning, I assume. Ah! Father said we would start practice at six.' His excitement, apparent on his face as he got off his bed in a rush to change into the black Anbu style clothes his mother bought for him the day before at Higurashi's shop.
Slipping on his Anbu ninja sandles he hopped off his bed and ran out the door only to slow to a stop and return, making his bed, cleaning his room, and then calmly walking out the door, his eyes half-lidded as he walked down his apartment's small hallway.
He walked in to see his mother giving his father a kiss as he sat for breakfast, she slipped her mask on as she stood, getting ready to leave for her morning rounds as a captain of the Anbu as she spotted him, "Swordling!" She pulled her mask up to the top of her head and smiled deeply as she disappeared and reappeared in front of him, no noise being made.
She kneeled and kissed him on the forehead, "Be careful today, little swordling, your father will show little mercy if any." She stood once more, her smile receding to an emotionless mask as she donned another, with the head of an Oni, disappearing once more, this time out of sight.
Ken turned to his father as he smiled and gestured to him, "Good morning father, breakfast any good?"
He smiled lightly in return, "Your mother is an excellent cook. Eat quickly, we start in half an hour."
I ate steadily, but with purpose, as any good shinobi would. Stood cleaned my dish and walked out to the front yard.
Sitting seiza near his mother's garden was his father, who quickly gestured before him. Ken sat without letting himself be hurried or ruffled.
"Ken," Kentaro croaked out, "While we train in the sword you are not my son, nor I your father. That is tradition, we are simply two Yaiba, bound by blood and brotherhood." He paused to let that sink in, then continued purposefully. "We will start with the kata. There are many stances and ways to wield a sword, a master of the sword is one who can use his sword to kill without thought as if he and the sword simply are, there is no sword, there is no man. The Yaiba, however, are born like this. The sword is from you, made from your chakra and life force, it, in fact, is your life force. If it were to break, so shall you."
He stood as he put his left hand down as if holding something and his right hand about six to ten inches from his left. His Ninjato slowly appearing by his side, the sword leaving its sheath as he pulled.
"This," He displayed his sword to him, the writing above the guard, carved into the blade intricately in Kanji are the words, "Demon, carved from metal, cured in blood." "Is Blood Demon, but I simply call him Oni."
Ken looked at the sword, mystified, "He's quite handsome, father, is the name where mother got her idea for her Anbu mask?" Kentaro looks surprised momentarily before chuckling. The sound eerie as if the clanking of chains.
"You could say as much, anyhow, as I was saying, the definition of a master of the sword for others is our starting point. Now, you must go beyond what others understand. Our training will be simple. You will follow my movements. There is no messing up, there is no stance, only the sword." Kentaro states as he begins, slashing his sword through the air slowly.
Ken looks on in confusion as if he's blanked. His father's hand smacks him hard, sending him sailing across the yard into the wall of the house. "Begin!" Kentaro's throaty cry demanded.
Ken, dazed, got up as quick as he could, summoned his sword, almost too heavy for him to use, its length being for fully grown adults, and starts following his father's movements, struggling to keep his sword steady and speed slow.
After two hours of non-stop training Kentaro stopped, his sword disappearing in black specs as he sat calmly, and gestured for his son to do the same. Ken sat shortly thereafter and closed his eyes, righting his breathing, then clearing his mind of doubts and distractions.
Another hour and his father opened his eyes and smiled at his son across from him, quickly putting said smile away he softly spoke, overuse of his already broken vocal chords the past two days catching up to him, "Ken."
Ken slowly awoke from his trance and looked up, eyes half-lidded, "Yes, father?" Kentaro stared at him for several seconds. He held up his hand, "Your mother and I spoke last night, of you leaving for the academy. I would like to know your opinion so I may share it with her later tonight."
Ken looked briefly surprised before calming himself, "Most children start at eight. Do you think I am ready?" Kentaro sighed softly and nodded once. Ken smiled, "If you think I'm ready then I'm sure I am father. I would love to join the academy and be one step closer to finding my love and protecting my home."
Kentaro hummed, pleased. "Very well then, you're starting the academy in one year." Ken looked happy, stood bowed and thanked his father. "Now, back to training."
Ken shouted with excitement, his sword appearing in his hand in a wisp of black smoke, "Ossu!"