Date: December 19, 2010
"Genocide and Revenge"
The Great Ninja Wars. Every clan fighting against each other, everyone
else in the way, there was no peace, no neutrality, only absolute
destruction or survival. This was the time that most people had to live
through, had to learn to survive through and defined them. Some caved,
some became evil, some became bloodthirsty and yet others found a way to
manage both their humanity and their own blood thirst.
This story focuses on a clan of Kirigakure, a clan that would be renowned
for its blood thirst, for its shear, unadulterated inhumanity. They were
called Kaguya. Bone manipulators and fearsome warriors, all fought until
the last breath left their body and their only unanimously agreed upon
rule was this: Take as many with you as you can. Few sought to stand up
willingly, even fewer survived after doing as such. In retrospect, perhaps
that was our mistake.
The particular mistake I'm talking of would be a small, remote village,
nearly the size of a hamlet, but not even that. Located on the coast, it
primarily relied on fishing to sustain itself, though some farming existed
and craftsmanship was an unknown, let alone military training. To be
honest, no one knows why this village was targeted, most just followed the
orders without question, I was one of those.
It was a cold, misty night. The night we strode into the village and
burned it to embers. Everything perished, or so we thought. I still
remember how I so lifelessly killed countless innocents, countless
children. At the time, I had no conscience, it just wasn't necessary for
survival. However, I'll always remember the ones that stood against us,
the ones that begged for life, and the parents that only wanted their
children to continue on and yet, we ended them. Perhaps we had grew too
blinded, perhaps we were just caught in the midst of the war, but whatever
it is, a genocide occurred that night and the haunting nightmares still
Unbeknownst to us at the time, there had been a single survivor. The sole
survivor of a genocide, one could only guess at what he was feeling on the
inside. When the attack started, he killed a Kaguya, put his robes on and
became one of us. For years, he lived amongst us, no one ever suspecting
that he wasn't a Kaguya. The show he put on to convince us not to ask was
marvelous now that I have time to reflect on it. At first there were
subtle hints, but he fought and killed and for the most part, people would
ignore everything else given a willingness to fight and kill our enemies.
As time went on these small signs began to disappear and soon he was
nothing more than another one of us.
The night he would be revealed would be the night he attacked. After
years of planning, the man would make his move against us. In the middle
of a battle, he would switch sides and turn his rage on us. At first, we
didn't know what to do, after all, he had been one of us up until this
point. It didn't take long however for the people he was attacking to
decide to put him down, except they couldn't. He knew how to anticipate
every attack, every movement. After years of observing our fighting
styles, he had the advantage and no one could press him for it.
The battle waged on, bodies dropping to the ground on both sides and that
single traitor, the unknown survivor had managed to upset the balance of
power. We still won the battle, but not after losing many to his power and
despite our best attempts to track him down, he was gone, as if nothing
ever existed of the man. He was soon forgotten.
Years later, once the man had faded from memory, the village had just been
started. Kirigakure was now just a glint in Mitsuo's eye, but it was still
being built. Most of those who were there for that genocide had either
been killed in other campaigns or died of unknown causes. Only a handful
of people remained that had taken part in that genocide. By now however,
none of them remembered it, let alone the betrayal that had taken place so
many years ago.
Mysteriously enough, those handful began to disappear. First one would
go, never to be heard from again, then two more would go. The remaining
should have been worried, but they had all forgotten their similarity, the
one tie that bonded them all together. No one remembered the genocide and
the murders were taken as random occurrences, right until only one of the
handful remained. This one was a warrior, one who had a family, a wife and
kids. This one was me, the one who would bear the promise of the sole
He would come on a windy, stormy night with his comrades. Him and two
other men would break into my residence, weapons in hand. In the same
style as the genocide back then, everyone died. The warrior saw his entire
family killed before him and he would have been next, but the two henchmen
would be killed with ease. The survivor however? He still retained the
same uncanny skill he had when he betrayed them all. It took longer and I
almost lost, but I managed to push him into a corner. My blade in hand, I
could have easily killed the man, but the look on his face stirred my
heart. It told me that he wasn't worth killing now, it told me that he
deserved a proper chance at revenge against the clan for what had been
Slowly, the blade was lowered, my face locking on with the survivors in a
moment of comprehension. It was the kid, the same kid that I had saw
running away all those years ago. The memories flooded back and for a
moment I was vulnerable, however the survivor didn't flinch. Once the
memories settled back in, I opened my mouth but was beat to the punch by
the man who survived.
"I will have my revenge." It was resolute, he wanted revenge.
"Then you shall not have it now. Go, prepare yourself and return one day.
Then I will give you a chance for proper revenge. Take our gem, if you
This was a promise, on both men's part, a promise for revenge and
genocide and war. I had promised him a war when he next returned and he
had promised to bring his own. It was only a second, but I swear he smiled
before stealing away into the night. One day, I may just regret this
Several years passed from that point. Kirigakure grew to be a great
village among nations, the shinobi there still renowned for their blood
thirst and shear ability in combat. If anyone needed something killed or a
war fought, it was Kirigakure who was considered the experts. This had
never changed, even from then; it grew from one clan into the village and
was now an integral part of their society. It would be on the anniversary
of the genocide that the survivor would prepare his ships for war. It was
On an island just inside the tsunami that constantly raged around
Kirigakure, they lived in a cave, training and building and preparing.
Their leader was the survivor from the genocide, the one they had come to
dub Yoshimitsu, after the famous samurai of course. His skill with blade
was unrivaled in the camp, but many wondered if that was his only talent,
but none dared ask. The promise was kept, there was an army inside this
cave, a very skilled army.
Now, they loaded into boats. Weapons were given, armor equipped, teams
assigned, jobs explained and plans wrote. Soon, they launched into the
tsunami just outside of their dock and powered through it, the ships
pointed towards Kirigakure's port. The sea was dotted with these ships and
more began to come from other islands that had been converted into homes
for this band of warriors. All people who wanted to end Kirigakure, the
current system. It was time and they were ready.
All that was left now was to wait. Soon, they would crash against the
shore and it would be up to Kirigakure to force them back. Inevitably, the
warrior and the survivor would meet once more. Who were these two? Well,
that's another story for another time. For now, perhaps you'll soon find