Back-stories

[der Haku]

Ever feel like the small little background area of your profile(s) are too small to really do justice to the awesomeness that is your character(s)? Well, here is your chance to go crazy and write a story of however long you want explaining why your character is the way he/she/they are. But to make sure that everyone realizes the full brilliance of your imagination, please make sure your writings are:

In third person, except if they are in an excerpt from a journal or something and is in first person.

They are long-ish. A paragraph is weak, one line is weaker. Make them as long as you want, but short and weak little things are discouraged. SHOW YOUR GOD DAMN WRITING BRILLIANCE!

You may include dealings with other characters in dialogue, actions, etc.... However, please do not do something that would influence a character's current actions or anything. Unless they agree to it, however.

NOW WRITE AND MAKE ME PROUD!  

[der Haku]

"Back on your feet," came the demanding voice of a clearly older adult. This was a tall man, with long black locks and heated red eyes, that of the Sharingan glistening in the moonlight. "I have no patience to waste on a student who can not kill his emotions enough to strike me down." His voice was directed towards a boy, no more than fifteen years of age. The boy was down on the ground, breathing heavily while on all fours, clear burn marks from fire on his body. "On your feet!"

"I-I-I-I can't," the boy rasped as a hand covered his mouth, a crimson liquid spewing forth from his mouth and seeping through the creases in his fingers to drip on the ground. It began to rain, dark and thunderous clouds blanketing the sky. The figure before the boy looked utterly demonic, a displeasing frown formed on his lips. "Please, Sensei, I don't think I can continu-" He was silenced with a side-kick to his temple, sending him reeling and spinning into the mud.

"I told you to get on your feet." The figure said with an almost demonic-sounding growl from his throat. "I will not tolerate failure from a student who has the potential to surpass me." He proceeded over to the boy and picked him up by the shirt collar, lifting him into the air. "You will continue, whether you like it or not."

The boys eyes widened as a fist was sent into his stomach, sending him to the ground and sliding through the mud, only to stop by slamming into the base of a tree. He arched out in pain. It could not be seen, but tears fell from his eyes and flowed down his cheeks, mixing with the rain. Salty rain he thought it to be called. However, this was minuscule to the fact that a large fireball was racing towards him. With all the strength he could muster, he threw himself out of the way to let it incinerate the tree he was propped up against moments earlier. Doing so though caused him to land roughly on his ribs, which he could feel starting to break from the abuse. He bit his lips, trying to stand and fight back the tears starting to well-up in the corners of his eyes. "Please, Sensei..." He could barely whisper.

"You're still too weak. You let your pain and fear govern your life. You let your earthly attachment slow your actions. You fear to strike me with everything you have for fear it will end with your death. Let go of your emotions and attack me!"

The boy tried to limp away, but it was too late. Soon, he was whisked away into a world not his own, where the world was red and black, the moon overhead was in the shape of a massive Sharingan, and the water around him was as red as blood. "You will learn what true pain is, and you will learn to overcome it. You will learn how to overcome physical boundaries and let the latent potential unhinge and overwhelm." At that moment, the boy was impaled with hundreds of arrows, causing him to fall to his knees and cry out in pain. The ground would open up and he would fall through, spiraling through a world of darkness with taunting voices. Soon, he would find himself in chains coming from all directions in the darkness, all coiled up around him and suspending him above the dark chasm. Before him, the older man would appear. "Such a weak little boy you are. You make me sick, seeing as you are my successor. Perhaps I should end you, thus ending the clan, like how your entire family was ended." The man's head inclined to the right.

"Please... No.... I do not want that," the boy spoke through a choking emotion in his throat.

"Stop your sniveling. There is no need for tears in our world. We are a clan of warriors, death and sorrow are but old companions to us. Grow up." Soon, he was whisked away back to the real-world with a foot to the chest, sending him sliding through the mud into another tree, this time, hearing something unsettling, a wicked cracking. He arched and cried out for his mother or father to come help him, blood running from his mouth and down his chin, staining his throat.

"She's gone. So is he. I am all that you have," he said with a chuckle. "Perhaps striking me down will cause them to come back, or perhaps, I could show them to you one more time before you die." Without seeming to move, the world grew black, and two other figures appeared in monochrome colors, staring down at the boy as a cold wind blew in.

"Mother, father," the boy asked with a slight glimmer in his eyes. But all too soon, the wind began to blow them away, slowly, like sand-statues dissolving away. "You could of saved us, son... Only if you had the power," they both said in unison.

"Mother, father!" They were gone. So close he was to touching them, instead he grabbed fist-fulls of air. Tears were again streaming down his cheeks, a flicker across his eyes showing for a moment. "They're gone," he was on his knees, staring into the ground.

"Like they said, it was your fault. If only you would of been more powerful, you would of been able to save them." The older man stated simply.

"SHUT UP," the boy roared and the chakra field around him began to fluctuate and change. The dark world began to melt away until it was gone, and the real-world was back in clear view.

The older man, stood their in astonishment. "Y-you broke through my Tsukiyomi....."

The boys chakra continued to fluctuate, seeming to turn every color of the rainbow. His eyes then began to change, something that was unseen in any Uchiha ever before. The boy went from stage one, to two, three, and finally to what looked liked the beginning of Itachi's eyes. The boys eyes began to bleed through the tears, making him cry tears of blood. But that was minuscule to the point of what was going to happen next. Black flames erupted about them, encompassing the entire forest they were near. Not only this, but his eyes changed as well.

The elder stood in amazement as the boys eyes changed once again, this time resembling his own. "My own?!" The elder was clearly shocked.

"Now you will know pain," the boy exclaimed as loudly as he could as the fire swirled around the elder. However, the elder seemed to come out, only somewhat hurt and burned and the Amaterasu diminished. The boy fell to the ground, the Sharingan receding until his normal pupils remained.

The older man stared down at the boy, seeing that his eyes were blank and he was shallowly breathing. "Bravo, Inmetsu. You will make a fine Uchiha." He then vanished along with the wind, leaving Inmetsu to either make it on his own, or die.

"Madara-Sensei," He whispered, still laying down.  

[The Ignorant Angel]

About the time of the fourth movie...

dammit! I’m not a freak A small boy about the age of 10 slams his fist into the wall, leaving a small dent, though the wall wasn’t that strong. why am I the only one who can see these lights? the boy collapsed onto his bed in a small apartment room, located in Demon Country, around the room the boy would see small two dimensional, oddly shaped lights. The lights all pulsating, different colours, different frequencies, and different brightness “I know I’m not crazy.” They boy whispered, almost silently to himself. He sat up, feeling a little depressed, he began to arrange and rearrange the panels into different orders and shapes, making three dimensional cubes, big rectangles, other shapes of various appearances. Until one, one shape he made caught his eye, not knowing quite what it was he continued to study this light there is something more here. The more he focused the more it caught his eye, the panels began to pulsate at the same frequency, the colours began to blend more, and the outline of the panels began to disappear. This new panel that was formed, it was unlike anything the boy had ever seen, but perhaps, he had heard of it somewhere before. You see, the boy would often hear his father talking (when he thought no one else would hear) of a place known as Konoha, and things that he couldn’t believe in his wildest dreams. Most specifically things about a clan called “”. The boy always liked to listen in on these stories, though if he had been caught he would have been punished, his father was a stern man who demanded respect. This clan struck him as odd because his last name was “Raninda” which is not all that different from “”. Often in the stories his father would speak of things the clan could do, and it all seemed to revolve around a central purpose, Portals. These Portals, according to his father, could reach anywhere, take you to places that were beyond your wildest dreams. m-maybe, this is one of those portals? M-maybe I made it to take me to a place where I wont be called a freak any more, where I will be accepted as a normal person. Maybe I will be happy. the boy thought as the panel shimmered colours that was unlike anything he had ever seen in his life. As the boy wondered the mysteries of this “portal” deciding whether or not to go through, a voice spoke out to the boy, echoing from the portal “You are Sori, Correct?” the voice was deep and raspy, almost as if it were struggling to breath.

“y-yes” Sori croaked, he was taken back by the voice, it all seemed to unreal first the stories he has grown to know as fiction, then he finds out that he is actually one of the fabled clan.

“your father can see them too … the lights. He has been lying to you all these years, making you think you were crazy.” His tone changed to something that seemed slightly amused “but … why would someone who claims to love you do this?”
Sori, enraged by the accusations against his father “NO. y-your lying.”

“Am I?” Again the voice sounded amused “I can show you all about the Raninda clan, all about your father’s clan.” At that moment the portal began to dim, showing his offer would only last so long.

Hesitantly the boy stuck his hand into the portal no, he has to be lying. But, still if I am a Raninda, then he must be too. then, closing his eyes he dove into the portal to face the voice and challenge it.

Next chapter of Sori chronicles: I will post later  

[Number X Loxagn]

Staring into the Eyes of the Five Virtues:
Gotoku Chokushi

A tall figure dressed in a simple gray cloak walked into the room. "Seiko-san, are you sure this is the best course of action?" He stared at the other man, slightly shorter, wearing a black cloak with red clouds. His hair was black, with eyes to match. "Yes, Gotoku. Your advice has guided me well these past few years, and it is you who predicted my death, is that correct?"
There was a long pause. A single, green eye focused on Seiko. "That is indeed correct. I do not understand; if you know you are going to die, why do you still go?"
"Because I must. I grow tired of this world. I have a child now, Gotoku. A child who never knew his parents. You never had emotions to begin with, so you cannot understand this. I will kill Leon, and Terra as well. And if I am to die in the process, so be it. You have more of an interest in this organization, anyhow." Seiko stood, removing his cloak, ring, and headband, leaving all in a pile on the floor. "You have done very well, Gotoku; you made things much easier for us when you took out our enemies. Anti-Akatsuki, the Kazekage Sasori, your execution of our first target was pulled off flawlessly, and allowed us to have a much easier time of capturing the Bijuu. It was even your judgement to recruit Yuzuki and Etsuko, if I remember correctly. But with so many of the second generation gone... Even Junko has fallen to his old master. It is only fitting that I too pass on, and I intend to die by the hands of my comerades, as they will die by mine."
The other man stood silent while this was being said.
"I trust the new recruits are ready?"
"Yes, Seiko-san."
"You have no need to speak to me with an honorific. I am no longer your superior. If the recruits are ready, then I leave this third generation of Akatsuki to you... Gotoku-sama."
He left.
Gotoku sighed, picking up the 'Zero' ring and slipping it onto his right thumb. "As you wish, Seiko-kun." He picked up the cloak, leaving in the opposite direction. "As you wish."
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[Flashback]

Gotoku stood in the desert, bending down to retrieve his bandages and headband. "You should have known not to tangle with Akatsuki, Kankuro the Second."
Behind him, there was the sound of someone spitting. "F**k you, Akatsuki." Kankuro's puppet body was smashed to pieces, the many parts of his massive number of puppets lay in ruins around him, even his most beloved Five Puppet Gods. Takumi and Shisen's youngest children, not Shisen II, who was by now grown, but the two that Takumi had died for, were nothing more than bloody smears in the sand. A few feet away, Sasori Satetsu lay in a pool of his own blood, dead. Strewn all around the battle-site were the bodies of innumerable ANBU, among which were Ayame, Sasori's lover, and Uchiha Hydan, supposedly the next-in-line to become Kazekage, all dead.
Gotoku turned around, his face now properly covered. "I have what I came for." He dangled the chain that held the rings of Junko, Takumi, Marty, and Naoshi. "Face it Kankuro, you killed two Akatsuki, and had a direct hand in the deaths of three others. Did you honestly think you could evade us forever?"
Kankuro's chestplate opened suddenly, and what was left of Kaze the puppet flew at him, a single blade extended.
Gotoku drew Muramasa, and in a split-second the puppet's head was in splinters. "How pathetic the Hidden Village of Sand has become. I, a lone Akatsuki, was easily able to take on you, your kage, your kage's most prized pupil, and several of your most powerful ANBU. And now, all of them lay dead around us, and I am going to kill you."
"Yeah, right. The Anti-Akatsuki will-"
"Are all dead," Gotoku interrupted.
"W-what?"
"Yes. All dead. I personally took care of them. And you were thinking they just lost contact with you, correct?"
"You b*****d."
"Language, Kankuro. Your dear grandmother wouldn't be happy with you if she knew you were using such profanity."
"SON OF A b***h! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL F**KING KILL YOU!"
"No, Kankuro. You won't." A second later, Muramasa was embedded in Kankuro's knot, blood and purple liquid squirting out of the hole. "Don't feel bad, Kankuro the Second, because you lost to me. Not with ten times the force you threw at me could you have beaten me."
"... how..."
"Simple, Kankuro. I knew every detail of this battle before it happened. I'm sure you noticed that I always stayed one step ahead of everyone, correct? This is because... I can see the future. Take heart knowing that you were important enough for me to kill you with my own hands. Now die." He twisted his massive sword, and the light left Kankuro's eyes.
"Kankuro Chiyo of the Demon and Angel Arms, you should have known you would lose." He pulled his sword out, sheathing it. "After all. No matter how hard they try, the most evil of demons, and the holiest of angels... Can never hope to surpass a God." He disappeared, leaving only a bloody massacre in his wake.
------------------------------------
Gotoku stood in the center of the room, this time clad in his own Akatsuki cloak. "So, now you know. Seiko is dead."
Five figures stood around him, each wearing a similar cloak. One was tall, with piercing red eyes and hair to match. Another had similar red eyes, though his hair was white and there was a distinct chill to the air about him. The other two stood together, a tall, older man with brown hair and a strange eyepatch, his visible eye a bright, shocking blue. The woman next to him had blue hair, a pale white flower woven into her hair. The last was a thin, busty woman who was appearing to have a slight emotional breakdown.
The redhead was first to speak. "And you come to tell us this why?"
"Because, Baku. Kujira and Darla were here from the very beginning, and you and Etsuko were the first two people we recruited. Yuzuki is also from the first generation, even if she was one of the latest recruits."
Yuzuki frowned. "Seishi-sama sings true. But Flames did not leave his own song behind for the pretty dolls to hear..."
Etsuko corssed his arms, speaking clearly. "Yuzuki is right. If Seiko did not leave behind a will, how can we believe that what you say is true?"
"Bah," Kujira scoffed. "You bloody young people have no patience. Maybe Seiko didn't have time to write a frickin' will. Look, we all know that Gotoku knows more about whatever the hell it is Seiko was planning than the rest of us, so who the hell else should we follow? Baku? No offense, but he'd turn this organization into a god-damn religious front. I'm too damn old to do it, and Yuzuki and Etsuko don't really know much about the inner workings."
There was silence following this, the only thing to interrupt it being Darla's strange mourning in the background. Baku was first to speak up. "Very well then. We put it to a vote. All in favor of placing Gotoku in the position of Leader?"
Five voices answered solemnly, some more reluctant than others. "Aye."
"Then it's settled. Gotoku-sama is the new Leader of Akatsuki."

The Soup's Getting Cold: Amano Mitsude

WARNING: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED, DISTURBED, OR HAVE PROBLEMS WITH CURSING, VIOLENCE, OR DISTURBING IMAGERY.

I always did like looking at my old wanted posters.
'Mitsude Amano', they used to say.
'Wanted Dead or Alive, reward 135 million Ryou.
186 counts of destruction of public property, 112 counts of assault and battery, 97 counts of murder in the first degree, 4 counts of armed robbery, 3 counts of rape, 1 count of High Treason.' Also one count of public indecency, but they never seem to remember that one on the posters.
'Subject is armed and dangerous, and highly volatile. Warning, subject suffers from extreme psychodementia.' Now that I have to object to, I don't suffer from psychodementia, I enjoy every minute of it.
You see, people always fear what they don't understand. It's not their fault, it's a racial memory from back when humans were sitting on their asses grunting at each other and jacking off to badly drawn cave paintings. Humans, for all their superior intellect, once you got right down to it, they were just hairless, clawless, fangless wee beasties with pointy sticks and big brains. In numbers they were brave enough, but get them face-to-face with a tiger or a wolf... They stare, with those big, cold, yellow predators' eyes, and suddenly all that intellect is useless.
Humans are kinds pathetic when you look at it from an objective point of view. And they still think they're top of the food chain, poor stubborn bastards.
That's where we come in.
Us, the Ley users. In more recent years, the Mitsude Clan. We're better than them by such a huge margin it ain't even ********' close to funny. Well it is to me, but people tell me I'm a little bit mad.
I tell them to shove their madness up their pisser, they'll be passin' that kidney stone for a month, hahaha. I'm not mad. I'm batshit, balls-to-the-wall, march-hare-sodomizing-himself-with-the-dormouse-whilst-feasting-upon-alice's-intestines, absolutely ********' off-my-rocker insane.
And I like it. Being a lunatic is about the second most liberating feeling in the world. Only being dead is better.
I am both, so that makes me about as free as a barn swallow who's just ingested his weight in LSD.

Not everyone sees it that way though. See the information on my wanted poster above. I'm listed in the official, international Bingo Book as an S-Rank criminal. Which pisses me off because I have to share that rank with Akatsuki and that c**t Orochimaru. I expressed this concern to the bounty office, told 'em they should give me my own rank. I dunno, F for '********' Try to Touch This, Dickwipes!' Somethin' like that.
The guy not only didn't change it, but he proceeded to urinate all over my favorite cloak. When I tried to reprimand him for this, he got blood on it too. Asshat.

Anyway, back to my story.
Like I said before, people like me are better than humans. We're superior in every goddamn way. Sure, the ninjas can manipulate elements. ********. We can manipulate matter itself and make it our b***h. Stick that up your a** and smoke it.
Unfortunately, I was about the only person in my clan who thought so. Only my bro Yamanaki shared my opinion, but he was always all 'But that's why we have to guide them, because we can, hurr.' Idiot. Little Kouryou was excusable. He'd talk about this love and peace s**t and I'd just tussle his hair and walk away. Cute kid. Stupid, but cute.
So I eventually realized that I would have to just get rid of my clan. That might seem counter-productive to my whole goal of 'get rid of the humans, make us supreme', but it was a necessary sacrifice. I remember that particular night very well, very well indeed. It was a Tuesday, which ordinarily meant sushi night but since it was also Kouryou's sixteenth birthday Ma was making his favorite soup, which was some western s**t I can't remember. Tasted great though.

I started in the kitchen. Ma was in the midst of preparing dinner, and as I walked in she asked me to chop up some vegetables for her. Being the good son that I was, I obliged. Once that task was finished, she asked me to go fetch Dad wherever he was, then turned around to her cooking. I picked up the knife, a big weighted meat cleaver. It felt good in my hands.
So I says to Ma, I said: "Ma, could I ask you to do something for me?"
She doesn't turn around, but she nods. "What is it dear?"
I asked her to tell me that she loved me. Like any good mother would, she promptly replied, "I will always love you Amano my son, no matter what."
That made me feel good.
Now, murderer and general lover of torture though I might be, the woman was still my mother. So I swung. The cleaver went exactly where it was supposed to, right between the vertebrae. She collapsed like a limp noodle. Hee, limp noodle.
I could tell she couldn't feel any pain because she had this look of shock on her face, like she hadn't quite worked out what was going on. I picked the tenderizer off the counter where she'd left it before, and kissed her forehead. "Thanks, Ma," I said, raising the mallet over my head. I smiled. "I love you too."
I don't know if you've ever smashed an egg. I mean, not the 'tap-tap-crack' method you use when you're cooking, but really just held one in your fist and smashed it. But that's the general effect when the human skull is crushed. Brains, blood, cerebral fluid, all of it just sorta comes out at once like an eclair that's been stuffed too full.
But at any rate, my mother was now quite dead. Now for the father.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, that's how the saying goes. Well anyway, my Dad came into the kitchen, apparently to check on Ma, when he saw my handiwork. He sort of stopped for a second. By the time he'd realized what had happened, a steak knife had buried itself right between his eyes and he fell, dead.
Being the good son that I was, I turned the soup down to simmer. I didn't want it to burn. Then, whistling a merry little tune, I picked up my sword by the door and went to do Ultima's will.
It only took about half an hour, but with the exception of my brothers I killed off our clan. It was rather fun, actually. The human body does so many fascinating things when a spinning blade of Black Chakra is driven into their throat.
At any rate, I returned to the main house of the manor and went back into the kitchen. I looked down at my white hakama and haori. Scratch that, they were red now. Whoops, tee hee. I figured that my little brother's birthday was more important, and set the dinner table for three, after pushing my aunt's corpse off the table first of course.
Ma had made a cake too, so I set that on the table and lit the candles. Then I waited.
It didn't take long, Yamanaki and Kouryou burst into the room, weapons drawn with panicked looks on their faces. I hopped up, grinning from ear to ear.
"SURPRISE! Happy Birthday, little bro!"
They did not move; both of them seemed to be paralyzed. From joy that I was so happy about the celebration, I figured. I urged them to sit, dinner was getting cold and the cake was going to spoil.
Kouryou was first to speak. "B-b-blood..."
I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, assuring him the place could be cleaned. I offered him a piece of cake.
That's where things went wrong.
They seemed to take offense to what I'd done. I informed them it was only the first step, that after dinner I'd start on the village too, and they could help if they wanted.
That seemed to enrage them, and we fought, the three of us. I mostly just tried to keep them away while I explained my vision for our clan, but they wouldn't listen, they kept shouting some s**t about family bonds and honor. Like I'd actually wanted to kill them all. But they were in the way, they had to die.

But neither would listen. You can imagine how heartbroken I was, my own brothers were trying to kill me!
I did the only sensible thing. I left. Kouryou had already ruined Ma's garden when he fell in it, and I didn't want to damage the house any further.
So in short, that was the reason for my wanted-ness. Ain't these Sand people jackkasses? Jeebus H ******** Christ.

Whatev. I ain't got any regrets, except one. I did forget to wash my hands before dinner, that was bad of me. Probably why they didn't want to eat.
Oh yeah, and I never did get the stains out of my clothes. Oh well. I'll just buy black instead, that s**t NEVER stains.

s**t, I think I left the stove on, too.

Birth of a God: Metsujin Himomura
Ultima

I never understood you.

So strong, but so demure, so beautiful and yet so cold.

Kikaru, I can smell your lies. Surely, you are a devil in disguise, to spurn me so after I asked, nay, begged for your hand in marriage.

I asked you to think about what we could do, the two greatest of our kind in this world, if we were joined in love.

But you refused.

Refused!

I, Metsujin of the White Wind!

Why?

Is there somone else? Another besides I who could possibly draw your affection?

Or is it that your bitter heart holds no love?

I love you, Kikaru. And yet at the same time I hate you with all my heart.

I can feel it, these desires within me. I want you, I want revenge, the power to destroy evil, and I want immortality to do it with. I can feel them growing, and the darkness they represent.

Look upon me with pity, fair Kikaru. I, Metsujin, who have wasted away before you.

Look upon me with pity, so that I might meet your eyes again.

Look upon me with pity, and I will look upon you with rage.

I can hear them. The souls of the damned, calling to me as my heart turns to darkness.

Darkness within Darkness.

I can taste it. The bitter flavor of death and decay creeps toward me and I know it is turning my soul black.

I can see you, Kikaru Mitsude of the Sky. I see you every waking moment, and you haunt my dreams as well.

You, who are so perfect and so flawed.

You're like them, the foul little mud-spawn that pollute the world that should be ours.

I can't stand to look at you anymore, and yet I can't tear my eyes away.

I love you.

But for dragging my soul into Hell on Earth, I can never forgive you. You, or the humans that are responsible for your love being taken from me.

I hate you.

(other characters coming soon)  

[I am your reflection]

About 20 years ago...

It was cold, and she was cold, and the blood that ran through her veins was cold as they led her through the streets and the tiers, her wrists gripped tightly in icy gloved hands. Their heads were covered by hats, and their bodies shielded by cloaks, but she knew that one of them had eyes of blue. The other, she didn't know, but somehow it was incredibly important that she find out. Her right foot dragged and shifted sideways, hindering that one long enough for her to see: brown, not blue. She frowned, but let then drag her forwards; she knew where they were going.

She was a valuable asset to the Intelligence department, she knew. They told her so, after they were done each time. The Medic-nins never got to see her afterwards, either, because they didn't need to. Even if they almost bled her dry each time she never needed a medic, not since before they killed them.

She stepped forward; six steps to their two, ragged grey hems of undyed-but-washed-so-many-times jinbei two sizes to big nearly dragging on the ground. Speech was a commodity not permitted here, as they passed between levels, and most certainly not to her. Her expression did not change as they paused, waiting for a group going in the opposite direction to flash the correct papers, passes, and identification cards and pass through this checkpoint. She held back a flinch, though, when the two holding her pressed closer, as the way narrowed and the three passing by narrowed it further. She peered out from behind a veil of hair, lavender strands mixed with pale blue, reminiscent of the rain that fell upon the village at this moment, unrelenting, and sighed as they were let through, turning quickly right and then left, and down, down through the doors into the building that was their destination.

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It was afterwards that they walked more slowly, Eyes-of-blue allowing her to pause and look around, stopping even at the small market to peruse the daily wares. Eyes-of-blue even persuaded Eyes-of-mud to release her physically, though she would be always in their sights; a 'valuable asset' could not be allowed to slip its leash, after all. She turned, suddenly, and found her nose to nose with a strange old lady who seemed... familiar? And a hand was finding its way into her hair and retracting, but there was still... something... there? She reached up and touched something soft, smooth and also almost velvety; what was..? She looked at to woman curiously, unsure if she was permitted to speak.
"Dear, in those clothes, you need something to at least make you look like a girl! So many of the young men these days are leaving their hair long-- why in my day, they at least had the decency to put it up in a bun or a tail or something, but nowadays they just let it hang there! Honestly, what kind of impression are they trying to give?..blah, blah, blah...."

She had stopped listening early on, when the woman had begun to get emotional, and she stared at the wrinkled face in confusion. Why had this woman given her a flower? What reason would she have to give her a plant? Surely it wasn't for cosmetic reasons. Did they make exploding tags small enough to place on a flower and remain hidden? Surely it would have exploded by now if they did. She frowned again, and turned back to her handlers, still thinking.
What a strange woman.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Roughly Fifteen Years Ago...



((to be continued))  

[Arashi3345]

A shadowed figure crept away from the smoldering campsite behind him. The sounds of war were dull to his ears as he grew up with them going on constantly. The figure quickly moved toward another clearing where the sounds of battle were going on.

As the figure crept forward a stray fireball flew into the forest to his left setting it ablaze as he watched the intense fight. Konoha-nin, why are they here? The figure thought as the fire illuminated the headbands of two of the ninja fighting.

“Tsuuga,” one of the nin cried out as he began to spin and charged down the figures fellow ninja. The Shadow ninja dodged and threw a handful of shuriken at the other leaf nin. The second leaf nin ducked and starts a long line of seals.

“Come one Raimaru, Gatsuuga!” Two twisting tornados flew at the Shadow ninja.

“Just hold him I’m almost done,” the other Leaf ninja shouted as lightning started to crackle in the palm of his hand. The second Leaf ninja and his nin-ken held the Shadow ninja as the first finished charging his attack.

“Raikiri!” The Leaf nin rushed forward as the figure leapt an arc of the lightning flashing along his chest as the Leaf nin thrust his arm forward straight through the Shadow ninja’s head completely obliterating it.

Ryuusei bolted upright in his bed the flashback turned nightmare still predominantly in his mind. “God, how many years has it been since I’ve had that nightmare?” Ryuusei wonders aloud to himself as he gets out of his bed in the ACF in Water Country.

He walked to the window the moon illuminating the horizontal scar across his chest as he continues his musing aloud. “It’s been five years since I saw those three techniques in action, and I’ve only perfected two of them so far. The Raikiri’s secret I know, but its training my eyes and body to cope with the speed that’s troubling me.” He pauses to look up at the moon.

“Maybe, I’m missing something. Hopefully my variations to the technique would go better, though they are more draining.” Ryuusei headed to his small kitchenette and made a cup of coffee. Checking the clock he alerted an ANBU to go wake Tsune up and prepared himself to go down to the Training Grounds.


((That’s all for now, I’ll probably add more to it as I see fit or if I think Ryuusei enters a fight or action that reveals more of his past.))  

[Kuma-chama]

The Tortured:
Takehiko

Roughly Fourteen Years Ago...

Holding tightly to the stuffed dog that had just been handed to him by a very tall man wearing a black cloak with red designs on it, the young boy couldn't tell what they were due to the fact that he was still wiping the blurriness of sleep from his eyes. He was being led outside of his room by a woman dressed in a silk kimono, she was smiling at him but she didn't feel right to him. When they got further down the hall he was picked up from behind to sit on the arm of the man that had handed him the dog.

Now that he was able to focus better he noticed the red designs looked an awful lot like clouds. Red clouds on black cloaks, something about that rang a bell in his head about something his parents had said while he'd been listening unknown to them.

He yawned and shook his head, holding the stuff animal closer to himself.

The man him self had silver hair and almost sky blue skin, his eyes white and blank. He noticed the boy's staring and looked down at him, even being held by him the man was still taller; his lips twitched upward before turning his gaze back to where they were headed.

The little boy also turned forward and noticed as they passed a room illuminated with light, his parents were sitting with their hands behind their back in front of a man. And it seemed, even in the brightly light room, he was surrounded by shadows. Behind his parents were more people of various heights but all wearing the apparently popular black cloak with red clouds.

When the two people that the boy knew as his parents saw him they both cried out to him at the same time, shouting different things that were just a jumble of words to him. He, only making out a few words, covered his ears because their shouting was too loud and it hurt.

"Don't say a word-!"

"Don't touch him-!"

"Keep your mouth shut-!"

"He has done nothing-!"

"Say anything and I'll beat you-!"

"Leave him alone-!"

It hurt his ears. He couldn't take much more of it when suddenly their shouts were silenced by a man with long red hair, he wasn’t sure as to what the man did to make his parents quiet but they were lying on the floor with their faces down. Another man stepped forward; he had a strange look in his eyes as he stared down at his parents and placed a foot on his mother’s head. The little boy heard his mother cry out but he didn’t say anything, there wasn’t much to say; he was scared but didn’t really feel scared for himself because the strange people in his house weren’t directing any vibes to him to make him feel as if his life was in danger.

The man that had been holding him moved into the room and set him down next to the shadow-clad figure; and strangely enough, as soon as he was out of the silver-haired man’s arms he felt slightly warmer. The little boy stared up at the man while he pushed him closer to the dark figure.

“Come here, young one. Stand by my side.”

He blinked before holding the dog even closer to his chest as he moved closer to the speaker, who in turn crouched down until he was almost height level with the young boy. A hand was placed on his head and his hair petted slightly, causing the little boy to calm down and feel almost safe.

“Now, tell me what you told grandpa. What did you hear your parents talking about the other night?”

The figures voice was smooth and calming, relaxing him along with his head continually petted; he felt as if he was going to nod off to sleep but he stayed awake. He was being treated so kindly and the smooth voice that flowed from the stranger’s lips reminded him of warm chocolate and soft breezes. His muse was interrupted, his father shouting at him in a barkingly, nasty tone.

“You will say nothing! Dirty brat!”

That caused the boy to draw back from his father’s direction and away from the shadowy stranger. He wanted to run, his flight instinct screaming at him that he’d rather run to find a hiding spot then deal with his father’s angry, rage. But gentle hands drew him back closer to the figure.

“What was said that night? What did you hear? What did you tell grandpa?”

Innocent and teary eyes turned to meet the blackness of the stranger’s; his eyes a void of color and emotion seemed to nearly blend in with the surrounding darkness, giving him an almost predator look. Clutching the stuff cloth animal with white knuckles he pressed the back of his free hand and sleeve to his eyes as he spoke in soft tones to the stranger.

“Oh? The Fire Alliance? Did they ever meet with that man?”

He simply shook his head, looking up just in time to see the figure wave his hand in his parents direction before petting him on the head once more. There were hushed words exchanged over his head as he dried the salty liquid from his eyes and cheeks before he was picked up once again. This time it was the shadow-clad stranger who picked him up and began to walk from the room with him tucked into his arms, leaving only enough room and time to get the smallest of glances at his parents.

The image that he saw would be forever etched into his mind: his parents being drawn to their knees with hanging heads and slouched forms. The sound of his father’s soft cursing and his mother’s desperate weeping would echo within his mind for eternity, bouncing off every corner of his brain making sure to hit every possible emotion, thought, and dream.

~ ~ ~

The five-year-old never saw his parents being killed, but he might as well have. He was the one that sent them to their deaths. Grandpa told him not to blame himself because it was his parents that were at fault for trying to sell-out the Akatsuki, but it would eat at him with every thought, every image, every sound that reminded him—that made him think of that day.

He made sure that he treasured every aspect of life from then on, becoming a nature lover and spending all of his free-time outside taking care of stray animals. But he came so much of a lover of life that he couldn’t fight for any reason, not even defense; he couldn’t find himself able to draw a weapon or fist towards any living being. This is how he often found himself on the opposite side of his carefree and life-loving ways: beaten, tortured, teased, abused among other things, this would often happened to him no matter where he went. Even after getting a job under the two toughest non-Akatsuki members in Akatsuki City, with some of the worst rap sheets. Entering the bar one would think that his gang of tormentors would learn to leave him alone. Not so.