Chapter 9 - At War

“You knew Kishootsu-sensei?!” Ryouko nearly dropped his guard, but remembered his training in time.

“Yes, I did. Quite a good man, e’ was. But that’s a story for another day, m’boy. Until then…Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing!”

Ryouko was blasted with a standard genjutsu. He hadn’t learned how to break them yet. Now he was about to see one of his worst nightmares come to life.

--

Their clothes fluttered in the wind. Two icy stares, each holding a note of death.

It’s said that you should never meet your heroes. They’re never quite who you believe them to be. To ten year old Ryouko, that was true now more than ever. The man in black across from him was his hero. His role model. The man he himself had wanted to be. But now, he was nothing to Ryouko.

Nothing except ‘sensei’.

“Now you think I’m such a bad guy for doing what I had to do? Come now, little tiger, you hardly know the full story! Don’t judge me based on such few words. You don’t know anything about the situation!”

The floored child stared at the black-covered man, his eyes narrowed until they were but slits on his young face. Soon, any trace of childhood had melted away from the boy, leaving him standing as but a warrior. He opened his mouth and spoke. Sorrowful, hateful words poured out.

“You’re a fraud. You taught me, and you lived the life you wanted me to see. ‘Always be honest’, you said. And then I find that you’re this…this liar? How can you call yourself a man? How can you call yourself a swordsman? HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A WARRIOR?!”

In response, the black-cloaked man whipped out two daggers from his coat. “We needn’t fight, but you seem dead set on proving what a fraud I am. The truth should always matter, and it will always come out, sooner or later. For now, you’ll only grieve if we don’t fight, so I’ll give you what you want.”

Ryouko shook his head. “Not with that. With THAT,” he said, pointing at the longsword that he had first eyed in the tea shop. “This is a contest between swordsmen. No matter what else you are, you carried that sword with the dignity it deserved. If you’re going to fight me, let it be with that.”

The cloaked man took up the sword, then shed his outer garments. Until that point, Ryouko had held onto the hope that this wasn’t his sensei. But now there was no way around it. Across from him stood Kishootsu. Ryouko closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to get rid of the reality in front of him.

WHACK!

A punch knocked Ryouko across the field. He skidded to a stop, but found his chin bleeding. No doubt- it was the ‘cutting punch’ that Kishootsu taught. Ryouko had learned it himself. It was to demonstrate that a sword, which cuts, is as extension of yourself, as much as an arm or leg. As blood dribbled down his cheek, staining his blue gi with red, he looked up once more.

“I know I taught you much better than that- shame on you, letting your guard down…You know not to drop your eyes when staring at an enemy. Little dragon…”



--

“Release!”

The three jonin had all tapped Ryouko’s shoulder at the same time. His young face had twisted in anguish, and real tears ran down his eyes. Silently, the group escorted their young friend back to the teahouse.

Back inside the tea house, Ryouko had pulled his cushion over to sit with the jonin, their friend in black, and the ‘attacker’. The power of genjutsu wouldn’t be lost on him.

“You really knew Kishootsu-sensei?” Ryouko finally blurted out.

“I did. ‘fore he went and died, he asked me to keep an eye on you if something went wrong. He always figgered that you’d train yourself. Tha’ man could have told you the day he would die, if’n he coulda faced the truth. (Spit)”

Ryouko hated it when people chewed tobacco like that. It seemed so mannerless. But this man knew something, and Ryouko was going to listen.

“Maybe we should all introduce ourselves. I’m Kakashi Hatake.”

“Maito Gai.”

“Asuma Sarutobi.”

“Kuuro.”

“Ryouko.”

That left the black-clad man. He appeared to be asleep. No one bothered to disturb him. Ryouko eyed his sword again, but averted his gaze to listen to the story Kuuro (the fat man) was going to tell.

“Yeah, I met ‘im at a dojo ‘bout ten days from here. He ‘bout beat everyone, and got a good reputation fir ‘imself. I stepped up and tried to fight ‘im, but he was too much. And I’m no slouch m’self. No offense met t’ you, but I held back in our little fight. Y’know, to see how’n you would handle y’self. (ptoo) When I’d heard ‘bout y’ village, I figgered he’d made it out alive. The one thing I was one hundred percent sure of was that you were alive. He’d never let anythin’ ‘appen to ‘is student, that’s f’ sure. I just ‘appened to guess you’d wound up ‘ere. Bein’ th’ closest village an’ all. You did a ‘ell of a job coverin’ y’ tracks.”

Kakashi had been lost in thought, but a question popped out of his mouth. “Ryouko, what exactly happened to your village? I mean, who were you fighting and why?”

“I was never really sure. I never had time to investigate. It was all we could do to keep them from taking the village. We had only a handful of fighters, and no one to spy. Because our village stayed so isolated, we had no allies. I guess we all hoped that we wouldn’t have any enemies that way.”

It sounded so stupid now, of course. They had been run over in that last battle…

-

Whoosh!

Ryouko dodged another arrow, leaping over a hurt person. Enemy or comrade, Ryouko couldn’t tell- the bloodstains marred both clothing and face. There was nothing Ryouko could do for the dying man anyway. Not in the heat of a battle like this. Ryouko had made that mistake once. He had seen a hurt villager, and rushed over to help. In battle, you couldn’t do that. One person did not an army make, but one person DID an army break. Tiny as he was, Ryouko was needed.

The sound of whinnying horses spurred Ryouko to take up his own. Without exaggeration, the enemy numbered at least one hundred to their fifty. Not insurmountable odds, but pretty damn close. The constant attacks had taken their toll. Now Ryouko and his village knew what was going on- the small skirmishes they had fought before were just decoys to wear them down.

Ryouko’s horse (a small, gentle, black mare, typically unsuited for combat) whinnied with displeasure. A calming pat from it’s rider settled it down, though, and off they went.

“SHOW YOUR FANGS, LITTLE TIGER!” Kishootsu shouted gleefully. He disliked war, but he was proud of Ryouko. His small acts of courage had helped spur the village’s collective courage. If a ten year old boy could face an enemy without wavering, shouldn’t they ALL be able to do at least that?

Ryouko looked around, seeing that the village’s natural defenses were in place. Now to get them moving…

Being of some standing in this tiny army, Ryouko had two retainers. Both were of no more importance than him, but it was a small gesture that made Ryouko feel like an important young samurai, truly worthy of the two swords. The two retainers were helpful, though Ryouko kept them out of combat as much as possible.

“Kikou, Haruchika- climb the slope and push the rocks! I’ll buy you the time!”

Kikou was the older of the two boys, and was one of the only boys left who still wore a topknot. Fierce when provoked, he would do anything to help.

Haruchika was more reserved, and a strategist. He advised Ryouko while in combat, though he wasn’t an overly strong fighter. Haruchika had a sharp mind, and he put it to good use. In fact, at age thirteen, it was he who had found a way to make the natural defenses of the village stronger.

Ryouko bent the string of his bow back. He held his arrow steady while Kikou lit it on fire gleefully. The bow was small, to match Ryouko, and didn’t have much range, but it was perfect at fifty feet or so, and that was all Ryouko needed. TWANG!

The arrow sailed into the hay bales placed near the only entrance to the village. The bale caught of fire, and soon lit others on fire. The sudden flames sent the enemy’s horses into a panic. A few threw their riders- some into the flames. Ryouko grimaced, seeing the burning men panic, hearing them scream, then smelling their seared flesh. But that would by time for Kikou and Haruchika to get to the top of the valley. Even the two teenagers could remove the wedge holding back the boulders with ease. That left one last trap.

“Ryouko, I’ll give you the time! Get the water flowing!” Kishootsu called over, drawing his sword and hacking down one burning enemy on a suicide mission. Ryouko was all too eager to ride away from that. It took him only a few seconds to remove the plug from the pipe that was dug into the valley’s wall. Ordinarily, it helped regulate irrigation, but it could muddy up the valley’s entrance in a pinch. That would slow down horses, and keep the number of enemies in the village to a minimum. That evened the odds a little.

Ryouko turned in time to see Kikou and Haruchika both cut down with arrows. Haruchika died instantly, but Kikou had time enough to pull out his dirk and leap off the slope. He landed amongst the enemies and swung wildly, doing as much damage as he could before he was finally cut down. Ryouko grimaced, but there was nothing he could do for them now. Nothing except make sure their sacrifices weren’t in vain.

In Ryouko’s sash was a short sword. That one he kept sharp, for cutting fences and rope. He drew it now- if there was ever a time killing would be unavoidable, now was that time. He would avoid it as much as possible, but Ryouko would do what was necessary to protect his home.

Suddenly and violently, he was thrown from his horse. As it ran in panic, Ryouko saw an arrow sticking out of it’s back end.

From behind?! How- Are they using ninja?! Damn dirty cowards!

Ryouko ducked into a house, reaching into the fireplace to rub soot on his face. Night would fall soon, and Ryouko would have to face those ninja. Being so small had it’s advantages. Stealth and speed were two of those advantages. The other would be a disadvantage to anyone but Ryouko. That was his strength- he hardly had the upper body strength to kill, even with a sharp weapon. That meant he could use almost as much force as he wanted without concern for killing.

But using ninjas in a battle like this?! They couldn’t win with strength or brains, so they had to cheat!

--

It was clear to the three jonin that this child had seen far more than most his age. Even here, in a Shinobi village, most children had been protected from seeing war firsthand. But this one had been on the frontline of a hopeless battle, and he had lived to tell the tale.

“Do you hate ninja for what they did, Ryouko? It’s understandable if you do…” Kakashi asked carefully, trying not to tear open any mental wounds.

Ryouko thought for a second before he answered. “…no. I can’t hate anyone who was just doing what they were ordered to do. It wasn’t anything personal by them. If you’ll please excuse me, I just…need a few minutes to think…by your leave…” Ryouko stammered at the end, bowing and hastily leaving, forgetting all about the man with the sword sitting right at the table.

The jonin and the fat man exchanged glances. The ‘sleeping’ stranger lifted his hat and opened an eye.

“Do you think he’s figured it out yet?” the stranger asked, sounding concerned but lazy at the same time.

“Yeah, he’s figured it out alright. Should we go after him?” Asuma asked, looking over at Kakashi.

Kakashi shook his head. “No. He just learned the Leaf was responsible for his village’s destruction. We might very well be enemies to him now. Let’s give him time. If all else fails, Lord Hokage will explain everything. Ryouko doesn’t know all the facts yet…”
--

Ryouko sat down by the river, leaning against a concrete block near an iron bridge. It was the bridge he had first fought on when he came here. Maybe that was why Ryouko chose this spot to meditate on his problem.

I love this place…it’s my home. But the people I like so much here destroyed my old home… Should I be angry at them? They just did what people do in war. But shouldn’t I have some kind of grudge? Shouldn’t I feel cheated, or something? I don’t know what to feel. I don’t understand all of this. Why was the Leaf Village involved to begin with? Why would they have bothered with our village? And just who is it they were helping, and why? There’s not even anyone from our village I could ask…
I should hate this place, and everyone in it.
…
But I can’t.
I need to know more. I need to know the whole story before I decide who’s at fault. All the same, I’d better watch my back from now on. If they had a reason to fight my village, they had a reason to fight me. While I look for answers, I’d better also look for strength.

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