Oushi looked up at the daunting sight ahead of him, his plaited ponytail whipping about in the wind. A world of white and gray stretching nearly straight up into the black clouds overhead, a distant sound of thunder swallowed nearly entirely by the howling wind. These weren't the familiar brown peaks of the Minami no Kabe, with switchbacks and valleys in which to hide from the wind. These were perhaps even more aptly named, simply referred to as Fangs as though the ancient tribes of the north had all simultaneously agreed the jagged peaks were part of a larger creature intent to swallow the world whole. And unlike the familiar mountains of home, these exuded a nearly palpable aura of menace. The air seemed colder, heavier, as if the very mountains themselves were conspiring against him. A shiver ran down his spine but he ignored it, focusing instead on his surroundings, moving forward against the wind that threatened to pile the snow even higher up against his knees, rendering his water walking footwork nearly useless as it continuously tried to bury him. He'd run out of chakra if he kept fighting it, and stamina if he didn't.
It was hard to believe it had been two months since Grandpa had passed. The white hot knife of the wind driving into his core had its edge muted by that sobering thought. No matter what his parents said, no matter what the family elders thought, he hadn't had to die like that. There were medicines, treatments, things that could have been done to prolong his life and give him at least a few more comfortable years. Instead, they'd treated the old man like an apostate and he'd died nearly alone in his cabin on the mountain, with only Oushi there to show him the bannin rank plate that now adorned a thick belt at his waist. The smile as he closed his eyes was the only solace his grandson had, and the only thing that had kept him from walking through the family compound cutting down old people like firewood. It was one thing for pulp novels to glorify the purge of a rotten clan but no matter how horrible his family was they still had family that loved and relied upon them... A fact that made their sins even more heinous.
So Oushi would instead deprive them of the one thing they wanted most: a bannin rank shinobi to elevate their status within the village. They would live and die in their mediocrity, and suffer at the hands of the enemies they made while anticipating his meteoric rise through the ranks. He'd left his parents with a large enough stipend to see them living comfortably for a few years and gotten his dispensation from Old Man Ishidai, his official dispatch being a long patrol of the northern borders in order to secure them from unknown threats. A polite way of saying he had every intention of fucking off for an indeterminate amount of time.
And perhaps that was for the best, Ishidai had seen the same glaring flaws he himself had seen. He'd gone through the examinations and missions with a small army of tamed beasts at his back, overwhelming his enemies with both strength of arm and strength of numbers without any need to burn his precious chakra reserves or stamina. In short, he was a crystal bolt waiting to shatter on impact against the first real obstacle he faced. And shatter he had, long before he was ever truly challenged. Fubuki, the emerald vulture he'd raised from a chick as a genin had died an ignoble death at the hands of an almost casual backhand from one of the bandits he'd been sent to exterminate. While the bird's fuuton techniques had turned it into a dangerous ranged attacker, it was still just a bird and had flown a little too close to a tree where the man had been waiting in. Similarly Shuu, a particularly tough creature from the far south had succumbed not to the rigors of combat but to a respiratory infection it couldn't shake and he'd made the difficult decision to euthanize the pangolin after several weeks without improvement. That left only Hanpatsu and even though it hurt to think about it Oushi couldn't blame the old goat for simply lying down and dying less than a few days after his original master had passed. Ishirou had raised the beast like his own brother and Oushi had likewise been raised by Patsu like a stern elder, training and sleeping with the goat day and night since before he could properly speak.
An anguished sob tore itself from his throat as the memory of digging Patsu's grave sprang unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. He'd known Grandpa was ill, he'd been crippled the entirety of Oushi's life and it was only spite and love that kept him clinging to life as long as he had, but somehow the young man had deluded himself into believing that Patsu was some ancient force of nature, a guardian spirit that would be around until the stars fell or he and Oushi died in glorious battle together... Not by just laying down his shaggy head and refusing to wake up no matter how the boy shook him. The tears froze instantly against his eyelashes and a guttural snarl of pain and frustration ensued as he spent several moments swiping at his eyes in an attempt to clear them.
By any objective measure, Oushi was a mess. Far from bannin, he'd be lucky if a proper combat evaluation put him even at jounin without his menagerie to prop him up. More than half of his techniques were based around his role as a tamer and without a single beast to his name he was little more than a particularly well built chuunin, and a gangly one at that. Old M-, no, Lord Ishidai... had graciously not spoken the words aloud but his ready agreement to Oushi's request for leave spoke volumes to his assessment; Oushi would either have to capture and raise a new group of companions or otherwise revise his combat doctrine entirely, and he would be useless at his post until one or both conditions were fulfilled.
He stopped. The wind was still howling but even gale force winds only ever howled with a single, unified voice. Not several... no, several dozen. A bitter smile played at the edges of his mouth. He'd been too lost in his thoughts, and this was the price. Oukami. Worlds apart from the yamainu from the southern mountains, there were no tricks, no traditions or humanized interactions with these spirits. Ravenous, slavering creatures of infinite hunger and violence, their lupine forms were merely an excuse for their behavior as they were every bit as intelligent as any human. And Oushi had stumbled right through their territorial boundary gods knew how far back. As far as they were concerned, his life was forfeit. He unslung the massive metal sledge from his back, feeling its familiar heft as he hunched over threateningly at the first figures to emerge from the encroaching gloom, eyes glowing silver like the snow in moonlight. Well, he had come here to train after all. A shame he hadn't even made it into the foothills before staring down death.
"It seems you've mistaken me for somebody you're allowed fuck with today." the words came out harsh, raspy and hoarse, foreign to his ears and at odds with his youthful features but he couldn't bring himself to care anymore, "Now come at me or fuck off you dickless sons of bitches."
For a moment, he thought he saw the wolf in front smirk.
