Kouki Gaiden: Fugue

[Lucem]

[SIZE= 20px]The Land of Water (5 Months Later)[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Kouki[/SIZE]


As he applied pressure, Kouki could feel the dark-colored sphere being crushed beneath the force of his teeth. Swallowing, he carefully tied the string that kept the recently opened sack closed, several pills kept within. With a sigh, he set the rations at his side, tapping against one another as they settled on the log that was illuminated by small flames.


Kindling in hand, the boy stoked the dying fire, its soft orange glow merging with the intense crimson cast from his tired eyes. While he could not feel it, Kouki was sure that his body had been affected by the Land of Water's colder climate. With that in mind, his journey had come to a pause, taking a brief moment to replenish his strength and warm the unfeeling body to the best of his ability.


Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a small slip of paper, unfolding it to reveal faded ink across the damaged, yellow surface. Despite being surrounded by dense mist, his vision remained unobscured as he looked over the self-made map. Eyes trailing over the detailed markings, he followed the route that had guided his way thus far, taking note of his current position.


Following his departure from the Land of Iron many months ago, he began to slowly fill out the formerly blank sheet as he worked towards his goal. In the wake of the war, many countries and villages had become vulnerable due to the damages they sustained, making it easy for certain people to take advantage of their weakened state. He had taken upon himself to deal with those aforementioned individuals, putting a stop to those who sought to cause others harm in a time when healing was needed. While it by no means made up for his past sins, he sought to contribute in any possible way. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible for him to aid others directly or assist with more complex matters. Something like this was all that he could do. It was all that he was good for.


Since he began his mission, Kouki had been very dedicated. It was all he ever thought of, every waking moment spent in the pursuit of his objective. In that span of time, he relied on pills to tend to his body's needs.


They proved to be quite useful, eliminating fatigue and allowing him to continue without rest. However, they weren't a perfect substitute for actual food, only able to sustain the body for so long. Eventually, he would suffer a crash, growing weary as his functions slowed. He could feel one of those moments approaching, knowing that he would soon need to find a space to rest for the night. While he found wasting time to be unpleasant, it was necessary.


Brushing the stray locks of white hair behind his ear, Kouki took one final look at the map before returning it to the depths of his coat. Kirigakure wasn't too far from his current position, evident by the growing influx of mist as he neared the hidden village. He would take care to avoid the location as he walked the rest of his current path, preferring to avoid highly populated areas if possible.


Rising to his feet, he began to collect his minimal possessions, ensuring that the dying fire was safely put out. Affixing the swords of contrasting colors to his side, he soon reached for the dark mask that hid his face from view. Before he could conceal the eyes of cerise, a faint sound entered his ears, diverting his attention. 


Turning his head towards the source of the distant noise, he gazed into the veil of mist. Dark silhouettes settled into his line of sight, quickly morphing into the view of what appeared to be a hostile standoff. A small group of people gathered around a large cart, leaving one huddled within the center. The sole individual's heartbeat grew faster and thumped with intensity, denoting their fear. It didn't take much time to determine that someone was being threatened over whatever they may have been transporting.


As he came closer, his suspicions had been confirmed, observing the scene as those present took notice of his arrival. The ones that he assumed to be the aggressors were quick to show their discontent at being interrupted, each member of the small group brandishing their weapons in a threatening manner. He could feel his hand begin to reach for the blades at his hip, quickly putting a stop to the reflex his body had developed.


He felt no fear from the men as they grew increasingly belligerent, yet the same could not be said for the visibly shaken cart-owner. Despite his obvious fright, he still remained. Kouki didn't know if it was due to hesitation to leave someone else to his attackers, or fear that attempting to flee would make things worse, but it was irrelevant. As he looked in the man's direction, eyes sharp and holding no warmth, the latter was quick to retreat.


With their former target now gone, the would-be thieves were only left with the person that dared to interfere. In a mix of frustration and desire to take whatever the new arrival may possess, they quickly closed the distance between them. As expected, the conflict came down to violence.


Avoiding the attacks didn't require much movement, opting to grab one man's wrist and deflect the oncoming assault with the weapon that remained in his fist. Their strength was minimal in comparison to his own, each falling with a single well-placed strike. Although, he was still faced with difficulty.


While the men were weak, he struggled to fight off his killing instinct, as he always did. He had been conditioned to murder people with minimal effort from a young age, the art of killing rooted deep within him. Something like that couldn't simply be turned off with the flip of a switch.


Even though he was mentally distracted by halting his natural movements and avoiding vital areas, simple taijutsu proved to be more than enough. However, as the numbers quickly dwindled, he could feel a new form of trouble beginning to stir. His body began to move much slower, his vision growing cloudy as if the mist was closing in.


Knowing that the effects of the pills were now beginning to take hold, Kouki mentally cursed himself. Despite being aware of what was about to occur, he had taken too much time, his progress halted by holding back to such a large degree. Now, he was in a predicament.


As his body grew weary and his vision faded at a fast pace, Kouki remained focused on finishing what  he had started, clearing out those that remained. However, his deteriorating condition left him drained to the point where remaining unharmed became impossible, suffering a harsh blow to the head as his senses were almost completely dulled. 


Lashing out with his arm, the last offender was quickly brought down, but the damage had been done. The drain had been far greater than usual, leaving him in a daze after being merged with the trauma to his skull. His body began to fail him completely.


Dragging himself to a space slightly away from the unconscious group, Kouki rested his back against an unidentifiable surface, the light almost completely gone from his eyes. He would need to settle for this until he awoke, his body needing to recover from the stress imposed upon it after being forced to keep operating for so long. Until then, he would stay here, wherever that may have been.


Eyes closing against his will, the darkness took over, mind and body  becoming completely vacant.

 

[clarinetti]

The Land of Water: an archipelago of loosely connected islands and inlets, consisting largely of beaches and dense marshland. Frankly, the Iwa-nin hadn't ever thought he'd find his way here once again: the fishing was pretty decent, but considering that his last visit had resulted in him getting caught in some crazy genjutsu and being arrested... well, you could say he didn't have fond memories of the place. Yet here he was, wandering through the wall of dense mist, glancing every so often at the compass he gripped tightly in his hand as he darted through the field. Maps gave you a lay of the land, but with his vision obscured as it was and much of the geography looking the same to his eyes, it was handy to know what his general direction was- better that than running around in circles unaware.


If he'd thought out his travel route a bit better, he'd likely be off somewhere with a warmer, sunnier climate- the Land of Hot Water was lovely around this time of year, if memory served. But as he wandered about the man had paid little heed to where his feet took him, and next thing he knew he was in Horosaki. He might've stayed there a bit, enjoyed the pub scene and caught a show at the theatre, had that message not come from the higher ups in Iwagakure: a high-ranking shinobi from the Land of Earth had defected recently, apparently to join an up and coming militia that had been brewing trouble the past year or so. They didn't have much intel on the organization or its goals so far, but considering that the shinobi in question was both from a prominent clan in Iwagakure and a former member of the interrogation squad, leaving him alive posed a threat to the safety of the nation. He'd been  reportedly seen last catching a boat to Kirigakure, and given that Torune was already in a port town, it made sense to have him take of it. That's how he found himself here once more, scouring the marshlands and tiny villages in order to catch his trail. It was arduous work, but it suited him just fine- for all his temperamental outbursts, he knew when to be patient- keep a watchful eye and something was bound to pop up.


With all that said, he hadn't expected such a hint to be dropped in his lap, as it had when he came across what looked to be the aftermath of a scuffle. Over a half dozen individuals laid unconscious on the ground, clearly having put up some kind of  struggle. Yet upon closer inspection, the Iwa-nin noted that their attire was a mish-mash of misfitting clothes and armour, and that none of them wore any headhands signifying their allegiance. He gave one of the nearer bodies a tentatively prod with his foot, but there was no response. [COLOR= rgb(128, 0, 128)]"Jeez, out like a light...."[/COLOR] he mumbled to himself, eyeing them once more before inspecting the rest of the scene. Judging by the freshness of the tracks, it went down not so long ago, and there was another individual who'd fought the group and left the scene shortly thereafter. Considering that the people were merely unconscious as well as the nature of their injuries, he was certain this was not the work of his target. No, whoever was responsible for knocking these folks out was seemingly deliberate in ensuring they didn't kill their opponents, and came out of the fight worse for the wear. They weren't his target... but they seemed to be a high enough calibre shinobi that they might be involved with the same group of militia.


Curiosity getting the best of him, Torune followed the shallow trail which led away from the road into the brush. Fortunately, he didn't have to go far: less than ten meters away lay the body of a young man, roughed up and unconscious, but breathing nonetheless. Kid couldn't have been more than his late teens, but there was a doggedness in his expression, a kind of world-weariness even while at rest that one only got from war. After eyeing the white-haired figure and the dark circles beneath their eyes, the shinobi lightly kicked his rib- no response. Probably was sleep deprived amongst other things. Mmph, well, it wasn't much, but he'd take what he could get: best case scenario the boy would have some intel once he could be roused. If he proved troublesome, he'd likely be still in too weak a state to fight back- he'd get a quick death, practically a mercy by today's standards. Unceremoniously hefting the fellow over his shoulder, the Iwa-nin fell back into the fog, eyes locked onto the terrain below his feet and the little compass guiding his path.


A little while later...


Drinking deeply from his flask, Torune leaned closer to the fireplace in an effort to absorb some of its warmth. Making anything burn was a hassle out here, with the wood being so damp from the humidity and moisture, but with a hearty dose of oil and a handful of matches and kindling, it had worked out. It didn't do much to heat up the petty shack he'd taken shelter in, but it gave a little light and would give a bowl of soup to warm his empty belly. Finding the abandoned building hadn't been planned, but wasn't completely surprising. It seemed that even after the war, plenty of folks continued to congregate in the more populated towns and villages rather than return to the rural areas, likely since that's where the makeshift clinics and food rations were found. Made these quiet dwellings the perfect place for all manner of rogues to hide out, and for now it would suffice as their resting place.


 Stirring the contents of the dented up pot, the shinobi's gaze flickered back to his 'companion', seemingly fast asleep on the moldy mattress he'd found, oblivious to the wires which bound his limbs together. Granted, they wouldn't keep him long if he started to really struggle, but it slow him down just enough so the Iwa-man could wrap his arms around that scrawny neck... in theory. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it really.


A few minutes later, the shinobi's patience got the better of him, and grabbing one of the chipped bowls he'd uncovered in the pantry filled it with the hot broth. All in all it wasn't much more than the shellfish he'd caught earlier that day in the mangroves with some seasoning tossed in, but it would do. Drinking it straight from the bowl, Torune settled into his meal, hollow grey eyes flickering between the young man and his dinner, simultaneously grinning and wincing as the scalding liquid burned his throat.


@Lucem Tenebris

 

[Lucem]

Soft grunts left the unconscious boy, eyes shifting beneath closed lids as they struggled to open. His body protested any sort of movement, desiring to remain in its current position as it attempted to recover from having its needs neglected for so long. However, as the small fire cast a faint glow over his pale features, the darkness slowly began to fade away, replaced by the blurry image of a wooden ceiling as the set of red irises revealed themselves.


Roused from his forced slumber, Kouki remained affixed to the fungus-covered mattress beneath him, vision lacking clarity as the three tomoe attempted to scan over bleary surroundings. His mind remained as cloudy as his sight, unable to form a comprehensible thought.


For a moment, he remained in this position, taking only silent breaths as he attempted to compose himself. Even as the haze departed, he found himself in a place he knew nothing of, the environment foreign to him. As he reached into the back of his mind, he found no memory of this place, nor any pertaining to what occurred prior to his awakening. It were as though his head were empty, yet filled with a blinding fog that left him uncertain.


With no recollection of past events, the boy attempted to raise a hand toward his head in order to get his bearings, but the limb refused to comply. Gaze drifting downward, Kouki finally took notice of the black wires binding his arms together, the dark restraints eating into his skin. Confusion settling in, he looked to his side in search of answers. Instead he would find the figure of a brown-haired man tending to a small flame.


Eyes never leaving the man, Kouki managed to prop his body against the wall at his back in unintentional silence, watching as the stranger raised his lips to the damaged dish. He continued his observation, taking in this unknown person's characteristics. The fellow didn't appear to hold any particular amount of malice, expression accompanied by a grin.


"Um..." Filled with uncertainty, the boy's muffled voice escaped from beneath the mask that concealed the lower half of his face. "Who...are you?" Lacking any hint of fear or hostility that one would expect from a person in his position, the question was posed only with genuine curiosity as he sought to lift the fog that plagued his mind.


Several questions entered his thoughts, many pertaining to where he was and why he was there, but Kouki figured that learning the man's identity would be a decent place to start. He would be the one that held the answers he sought in this situation. It didn't appear as though he intended to do him arm, only having been restrained, leaving him somewhat optimistic about the response he would receive.


[SIZE= 8px]@clarinetti[/SIZE]