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Post by Hero on Jul 2, 2018 15:45:42 GMT
It was reminiscent to the endless cycle of one's life. If interrupted, one would find only the chaos of the world and one's soul within. If devotedly followed one's life usually became like a peaceful river that never ceased unless disturbed. Which way was truly the right way to live? This was never a question this young man dared to contemplate. One step of his wooden geta after another, his legs moved mechanically almost, feeling absolutely no tire in his ascent.
Three hours would past before he finally reached the top. A dilapidated gateway, painted with rustic red, awaited him. At it's crown was a dragon's head that had long since lost its luster, and the gateway itself connected to the towering walls that surrounded whatever awaited him inside. Approaching them as he always did, a single right arm removed itself from beneath the dirty brown cloak of the young sage and pressed lightly against it, ushering the gigantic doors to swing open.
아직도 나를 포기하지 않았 니?
“Good morning, Seokga. Have the flames been kindled?” a young tenor voice, aged only by experience, questioned aloud. There was no response, but that in itself answered his question.
창녀가 아직 안 왔어.
“Watch your mouth, Seokga...” the young man warned casually, removing his cloak to reveal his bare chest, covered in scars, and the lack of a left arm that seemed to be gone from the beginning of the shoulder socket down. “Do not forget why it is that you are alive.”
Dropping his coat to the dew covered grass to the right of his pathway, he made his way towards the traditional temple beyond, equally run-down, with the paint having chipped and faded long ago. If what the malicious trickster of a time long past spoke was true, then his second reason for coming here had yet to arrive. Sliding open the shoji (japanese divider) only a faint, white light, brighter than any this world could produce, could be seen within deep within the large room. However, as bright as it was, nothing else could be seen, as if everything around it was deprived of it's warmth, and it lived in a world of it's own. The young man's lips furled into something like a smile and removed his geta, before sliding the shoji close and approaching the light with very light steps.
This place, regardless of the state of it's outward appearance, was perhaps the most important place in the Kimpusen-Ji region, and at the top of the Kuten Syndicate's priority list. In-fact, everyone in Izral would love to know or think they knew the location of this white flame. What was it, and why was that? All of this and more, this young boy turned man kept to himself, crossing his legs just before the light, and closing his only eye to meditate before the flame. To kindle the flame's power it required the worship of hundreds, or thousands of those devoted to its origins.
Yet this man did it alone, waiting in earnest for a special someone to arrive. |
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Post by patyofurniture on Jul 8, 2018 10:30:40 GMT
 It had been only a year since he had last walked the path that led to the temple, but it seemed like a lifetime ago now. At first, he had treated the many stone steps as nothing more than an obstacle keeping him from his destination, but he had actually come to appreciate them. The slowly brightening sky, the cool fog yet to be burned away by the rising sun, and the songs of birds in the trees all around; he had learned to appreciate them all. By now he could count every cobblestone in every individual step that led inexorably toward the summit. The fact that nothing had changed since he'd left was somehow comforting; like an assurance that you could indeed return home again. Left to his own devices, Kurome would have walked the path at a leisurely pace until he reached the shrine; but today was not the day for such indulgences. Today there was to be a reunion between two old friends; though only one of them knew that. Kurome had considered sending word ahead to alert Isamu he was coming, but had ultimately decided against it. The two had parted on bad terms, and he couldn't be sure what kind of welcome he would receive if he called ahead. Ultimately he couldn't predict what would happen when they met; but he couldn't rule out anything, including violence. Picking up the pace, Kurome moved as fast as his body would allow without chakra supplementation. At such speed, it only took him thirty minutes to reach the summit. Kurome nodded to the Dragon head that adorned the gate; who uttered nary a word as he passed. Perhaps his return had rendered the thing speechless. Puting it out of his mind, he made his way to the building where the flame was housed. He slid the shoji screen aside and saw his old friend. Clearing his throat, he greeted him. "It's been awhile, Isamu." |
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Post by Hero on Jul 14, 2018 15:42:10 GMT
No movement existed here but the licking flame of eternity that danced at the whim of all those who prayed to its existence from all corners of the land. Without someone to calm it, this flame could reduce the world into cinder and ashes with little to stop it. It was worth questioning why Isamu himself was in possession of such a mythical artifact rather than the treasury and temples of any of the major villages.
With the flame tamed and fed, Isamu's interlocked fingers released themselves and he leaned back, using his arms as props, and took time to study the flame just as the shoji slid open.
“It's you...” Isamu whispered to himself in silent contemplation. His left eye danced in the heart of the flame before he cocked his head back to Kurome. In all of the villages Kurome was a legendary rogue shinobi, one who had his differences from everyone, but also one who had the most uncanny specialization in Swift ninjutsu that he had ever seen. As a result, while the two had argued and even done battle against each other, they clearly had a need for each other and their motivations ran as deep as their histories and blood.
“Were you followed?” Isamu sneered jestingly, knowing that Kurome was a master of stealth. Months prior to this day, Isamu may have attacked Kurome upon hearing his voice...but today...today he was a different man.
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Post by patyofurniture on Jul 17, 2018 10:09:27 GMT
It seemed that Issamu had changed just as little as the rest of the temple; still dutifully tending to the flame within the shrine. The Moment Issamu laid eyes on Kurome, tension filled the air, and it seemed like things could go any number of ways. Kurome was certain that he could see his old friend contemplating starting a fight. But eventually the other man's posture relaxed, and he asked Kurome if he had been seen on his way in.
"Unlikely. Even if there was anyone out here to watch us, there was no way they saw me."
Kurome took a cautious step forward, "How have you been Issam?"
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