Smoke and Ashes

[Ace Trainer]

The ship they had returned to shifted gently with the tide, swaying with the directionless motion of the water. Kozan, standing at the crows nest would have his eyes on the horizon, watching a small row boat moving further and further away from them as into the dusk. Their chosen sole survivor. He’d spread the word of what had happened here ensuring, among other things, people knew of the mission Kozan had just lead them on. Many would view what they had done as a dirty task, but it had been done and now it was over.

Eventually, Kozan would lose sight of the vessel in the impending darkness, and his bright yellow eyes would shift over to the peninsula they’d just assaulted. A blueish-green haze still remained at the center of the village, illuminated even in the increasing darkness by the fires within and around it. In this moment, Kozan realized that the sky was further darkened by the thick clouds of smoke that had risen from those same fires. Surely some of them a direct result of the fires Kinsue had started. Indeed, even if Kozan’s chosen sole survivor did not spread the word of what happened here, the locals would know from these glaring signs nonetheless.

He would stare at it for some time, attempting to memorize the image of destruction left in the wake of his mission. He would surely be asked for details, and Kozan wanted to be sure he could provide the most accurate detail possible. Many would likely assume Kozan was basking in the moment but the subtle tension in his shoulders, the flat demeanor on his face, the thin eyes scanning the village all make it clear Kozan wasn’t yet taking satisfaction in the completed job. No, not until he made landfall in Kirigakure could Kozan be sure they’d be successful.

Eventually, he step off the side of the crows nest and descend down to the ship. He’d whistle signaling everyone to gather back to the deck as he gave another hand signal to the captain. As everyone gathered, the sail would unfurl and the ship would seemingly lurch to life, slowly beginning to move through the water indicating to them all they’d be returning back to Kirigakure soon.

In Kozan’s experience thus far, the ends of missions came with a sort of debrief where everyone could take in that they’d been successful. Typically there was some strange attitude Kozan didn’t quite understand, happiness around success? Almost arrogance. Words about why Kirigakure was the best, or why they were great ninja, all things Kozan understood to be true without needing to be said. But, he’d seen the procedure and did not want to deviate from what was expected of him. No, that wouldn’t be good.

With everyone gathered, Kozan would make brief comments.

”Each squad did as they were assigned. The pirates in this village were eradicated as we had been ordered and a message has been sent to those that doubt that their actions will have consequences. Kirigakure’s land remains secure as a direct result of the work we have done here today.”

‘Work’ was an interesting word to use for wonton murder.

”The village recognizes the contribution and strength every shinobi brings to it. As weapons, we have presented our worth here today.”

Yes, Kozan could know he was worth something to the village after an operation like this. Success here was evidence of his value.

After all; A ninja lives not for themselves or for anyone else, but for the village, they exist to maintain and further the strength of the village.

[WrightJustice]

Nishiki sat outside watching the waters as he pondered about their mission and its success, taking in all the destruction, not sure it fit with what Fuhen tried to teach him but he stood with Kirigakure still and so did what Kirigakure wished plus it gave him opportune time to scope out his youngers and examine their abilities.
"Perhaps Hatusyiki is the one..." he muttered to himself, though Yoshimitsu scoffed at his thoughts "Perhaps I can test him" he added, pondering further.

The Bannin's thoughts were soon quieted as everyone began to gather at Kozan's signal, causing the man to put what he was thinking to rest and move to join the squad and listen to what was being said.
Nishiki simply nodded quietly letting Kozan take command just as before, though smiling with pride over their accomplishments as he glanced around and took in everyone's faces and what they may be thinking.
"Could've just let me loose and blasted them to bits" Yoshimitsu commented internally, scowling at the idea that Kozan or any of the others actually did anything grand.
"I thought you said it was 'sort of fun'" Nishiki replied back mentally with a bit of a snicker, causing the beast to scoff and tut as a theoretical deep and burning glare burrowed into its host.
This caused said host to snicker further in reality as he swiftly covered his mouth with the rightmost of his nine tails to maintain politeness and hide the little delight that could come across as at Kozan's expense rather than the internal being's.

[ThatGuy]

shink shink shink

The sound of Muramasa being sharpened was the only noise coming from Abari's direction. After the massacre concluded, the boy no longer had something to focus on in order to keep the realization of what he had done at bay. The ghosts of crying children, scared and confused, stared at him through the reflection of the blade. Their souls would likely never rest. He wondered if they were even aware that they had died, and if they were, could they even comprehend it? Was that why they clung to this world after death? Or was it because he left their bodies incomplete and without a proper burial? Abari had never been a spiritual person, but they felt so real. With each pull of the blade across the whetstone, new ghosts took their place. How many had he killed? He had mentally retreated during the slaughter, and yet he could remember each face that appeared in the reflection of his blade. Mondai refused to kill any of the children, and Abari could not blame him. It made him sick to his stomach, but the job needed to be done. The boy wanted nothing more in life than to be of use to his village, so he shouldered the burden for both himself and Mondai.

Having finished sharpening the blade, Abari held it up to check the edge one more time. He noticed the rancorous wraiths of the mothers he cut down alongside their children reaching out to him through the reflection. They made no noise, and yet Abari could hear their howls of anger and anguish. Their overwhelming hatred for him was something he knew he’d carry with him for a long time. The boy was not one to feel pity for the enemy. He did not regret carrying out his orders, but now that they were dead, he hoped that the fathers were blissfully ignorant of the fate of their children. A whistle snapped Abari out of his trance, and as he sheathed his blade, Abari returned to reality.

Abari listened intently as Kozan spoke. Though it might not have seemed like it to others, the boy considered his superior’s words to be high praise. While the sentiment was appreciated, Abari did not take any pride in it. This mission, more than any other he had been on, solidified what it meant to be a tool of the village. Abari spent his whole life trying to mold himself into the most useful weapon possible in the name of Kirigakure. While he knew that things would change upon returning to the village, Abari currently embodied his ideals. Mirroring the coldness in Kozan’s eyes, the boy stood not as the shy and timid swordsman nor as the alleged Bloody Demon of the Mist. What stood before Kozan was a finely honed blade of Kirigakure, caring not for the how or why, the good and the bad, or something as ridiculous as pride. A blade cares not for where it is aimed. As an extension of the wielder, it simply cuts, and that is exactly what Abari did.

[Kaitos10]

Nozomi would return from the slaughter, blood and benign traces of poisonous vapors wafting off her. Her normally white hair stained red with blood. She had exhausted most of her chakra supply during the raid but there wasn’t a soul left in the section she had been in. After she had returned to report the progress first giving her parents some alone time she saw the other members of other teams. She seemed especially interested in Abari as she stood there and just watched what he was doing for several moments. Unaware he was processing the strange unknown emotion of grief currently.

After all to her lives outside of water country held no value. why should she care she snuffed out those lives regardless of there age. They were no more than nuisances that needed to be removed regardless of age. After she was done indulging her curiosity watching Abari she would return to Kozan and says “ our side is clear I think mom is just having a snack and she and Shinji will be returning shortly. Do you need anything else or can I go rest?”

[Mre-face]

There was a certain coldness at his location sitting where he sat last time but this time the feeling of sickness wasn't from memories of the great war this time it was from the disgust of this mission as an untouchable he had little choice even if he had his prestigious position as seven swordsmen and a Jounin. Unlike Abari who while haunted didn't have any regrets about following orders even if it sickened him to his stomach, however, Mondai did feel guilty for following through with orders guilt shame, and bitterness filled his heart feeling like a failure and weak in multiple ways.

The idea of killing children enraged Mondai too much so he left it in Abari's hands who followed through of course since he was a weapon of kirigakure but Mondai felt like he was more than that despite his cast status. He was seven swordsmen of the mist a Jounin and a Yūgana he was responsible for their family name and his decision to continue with the mission was still his fault. He felt reduced to a mere butcher just hacking meat as a way vehicle to prop up the bloody mists already bloody reputation. Killing civilians wasn't admirable it was easy it was mindless nothing like defeating your enemies in battle like Mondai did during the great war. That was at least a fight of some sort but this felt far beneath what he was capable or worthy of.

The untouchable was likely the only one that felt this way the other had a sense of pride of accomplishment of some sort but not Mondai and it radiated from him like a chilly mountain range in the distance. Mondai had nothing to say to anyone a simple 'hmph' would be his response to Kozan talking about how this mission went. The seven swordsmen wasn't in the mood to talk.

[Izanagi]

The Overseer of the Seven Swordsman would arrive on the boat alongside Chisaki, carrying her in his arms before gently placing her down as his bat wings merged with his body once more. The Bannin remained cold and composed. He had enjoyed the quality time with his lover and felt pride at the strength of their daughter. But the lives that had been taken filled him with neither joy, pride, or sorrow. They were simply snuffed from existence, a necessary action to ensure the strength of Kirigakure. However, seeing the resolve in his men. That filled him with pride. Among them, he sensed only weakness and regret in Mondai, as he had expected. The man had always had a soft spot for the weak and destitute. But nonetheless he had performed his duties and proven himself worthy as a member of the Seven Swordsmen. That was all he required, that regardless of ones’ personal feelings his men would follow orders and bury their doubts and inner turmoil when necessary.

His gaze lingered for a moment on Abari in particular. He had never interacted with the man but he had taken a keen interest in him, seeing him as a powerful candidate for the seven. ‘Join us’ he said with his eyes, staring at the man until their gaze met. A slight nod would indicate his approval of the man. He need only voice his ambition and challenge a current swordsman and he would become one of them. Listening to Kozan’s closing statement Shinjiro nodded in agreement. They had each proved their value and their loyalty to Kirigakure. The Seven stood stronger than ever, but yet there remained room for improvement. The strongest would continue to grow stronger and the weakest would be snuffed out and replaced.

[Kabu]

Asuna wordlessly stared out at the waves, leaning against the ship's railing as she contemplated the gravity of what they had just done. She knew they had done the right thing but she could sense a strange tension running throughout the ship. It was clear that not all of her comrades felt as she did, though she couldn't claim to understand it. She wasn't so heartless as to feel nothing at the thought of murdering even children but they had been given this mission for a reason. These people had been an active threat and surely would have continued to have been into the future so what harm had there been in culling them?

She was broken from her reverie by a sudden whistle, a signal to gather. She stood with a stretch and headed towards the deck whereupon she listened to Kozan's speech. It felt strange to be hearing such words of praise from the boy but she would take it nonetheless. Growing up the way she had it wasn't often that she had been praised for anything so she had learned to take pride whenever it came.

Nonetheless she was simply happy to have had a chance to prove herself and she would continue to grow even stronger... All for the sake of their glorious village and its people.

[Gara]

The ship's journey was mirrored by the tumultuous waves that danced around it, much like the swirling tempest of emotions within Hatsuyuki's heart. It wasn't a question of whether they had made the right decision; in his heart, he knew that their actions were justified. What gnawed at his conscience was the unsettling realization that he was deriving an unsettling pleasure from it all.

With each passing encounter, he found himself descending deeper into the abyss of cruelty. At first, it had been a means to an end, a cold necessity in the unforgiving world they navigated. But over time, a sinister transformation had occurred within him. He no longer aimed for swift, efficient resolutions, but instead relished in protracted suffering.

As if haunted by a malevolent specter, he began to spare victims not out of compassion but to prolong their agony. He reveled in the anguish etched across their faces, knowing that they would meet their doom in a slow, torturous descent into the abyss. His once noble intentions had become twisted into a morbid fascination with human suffering. The very realization of his transformation weighed heavily on his conscience, casting a shadow over the righteousness of their actions. The inner conflict raged on, with Hatsuyuki torn between his understanding of justice and the eerie satisfaction he derived from cruelty. It was a tempest within, where the waves of morality clashed violently with the surging tide of his newfound darkness, and he struggled to find his way back to the person he once was. Hatsuyuki was acutely aware of his own imperfections; he never claimed to be a saint. Yet, what truly gnawed at him was the gnawing fear that a recent, gut-wrenching event had shattered something deep within his psyche. The day he had been forced to take the life of his best friend during the Chuunin exam was etched in his memory like a relentless storm cloud, casting an ominous shadow over his soul.

He couldn't help but wonder if that fateful moment had triggered a dark descent into an abyss of moral decay. The question that haunted his every waking thought was this: Would he devolve into some unrecognizable, mindless abomination whose sole source of pleasure was the act of killing? Had that single act forever tainted his soul, rendering him a vessel of darkness? Or, perhaps, the answer was something much more unsettling. Something rooted in primal instincts, in the very core of human nature. Was it the ancient, unrefined aspect of human existence, where the primal thrill of power and domination over others had found a way to creep into his consciousness, masquerading as pleasure? Was it a sinister facet of human existence that had lurked within him all along, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself, like a dormant beast suddenly awakened?

These disquieting thoughts swirled through his mind, mingling with the turbulent sea of emotions and doubts that engulfed him. The idea that he might be grappling with something far more profound and unsettling than mere moral corruption was a chilling revelation, casting a long, foreboding shadow over his journey. Hatsuyuki was determined to confront this inner tempest, to wrestle with the darkness that had taken root within him, and ultimately, to find redemption or closure, whatever form it may take.

Hatsuyuki clenched his jaw, determined to push the tormenting thoughts from his mind. He couldn't dwell on the past, not now. The sharp whistle of their leader, Kozan, pierced through the fog of his inner turmoil, and he hastened to join the rest of the crew who had gathered. Kozan was a beacon of reassurance in this turbulent sea of uncertainty. The captain's succinct and pragmatic approach to addressing their recent mission offered a stark contrast to the emotional maelstrom churning within Hatsuyuki. Instead of lavishing praise or unnecessary platitudes, Kozan treated their actions with a straightforward matter-of-factness. This unembellished, no-nonsense demeanor was a balm to Hatsuyuki's troubled soul. It was a reminder that their journey was filled with harsh realities and difficult decisions, and that dwelling on the moral intricacies of their actions was a luxury they couldn't afford. Kozan's straightforward leadership provided clarity in a world mired in gray areas, and it helped ease the grip of the darker thoughts that had plagued Hatsuyuki just moments ago.

[Jinan B]

Kinsue found himself once more on the ship’s starboard, looking out silently over the rolling sea as they journeyed back to his village. Where before he had taken in the familiar sensations of the water – the gentle tilting of the boards under his feet, the calls of distant gulls and the refreshing scent of seaspray – now the memory of what they had done overwhelmed it all. The smell of soot clogged his senses; the sights and sounds of the slaughter burned into his mind.

He thought his heart had been hardened, ready to carry out the orders of the village. In truth, he had only been half-right. He had obeyed, that much was true. Even went beyond the strict letter of the order as he let his personal grudge against the pirates override his judgment. Yet, doing so had struck a blow against him as well. He was no Kozan, able to follow the will of the village with no thought spared for what else might have been. Nor was he counted among some of these others; who went so far as to take joy in their work.

Their leader’s whistle drew him out of his thoughts, and he turned to join the assembling group. Looking over the faces of the shinobi gathered, he saw some seemingly jovial, others cold satisfaction. Some were displeased, of course, or seemed brought down from the mission. Kinsue’s mask was close at hand, and he put on a face of dispassionate obedience for the assembled group. He wouldn’t allow any of those here to see his true state. The deceit that had been so core in business came easily to him; a stark contrast to those shinobi who wore their emotions so openly.

Today would be a step for Kinsue - with his performance here, doubts about his ability in the wake of his resignation would begin to wane. He had Kozan’s approval and hopefully that of the others as well. Finally, he had much to report on when he arrived in Kirigakure. A base had been formed; one he needed to build upon in the days ahead. It was the only path open to him. After all, a shinobi is nothing without his village.

And Kinsue was nothing if he wasn’t a shinobi.