I do not own any Naruto characters or settings. I only own my OC, Musei Shiro.
Warning: This chapter contains vivid contents of blood and violence.
I hope you enjoy the story of Shiro, the Weeping Samurai of the Land of Iron!
~~~*~~~
The village lay dead and lifeless from slaughter, drenched in cold dark blood as Shiro lay thoughtlessly in the dirt. Her knees dug into the dusty ground, smearing her blood-crusted white kimono in the moistened soil. Her dull eyes, blunt as a lump of charcoal, stared down blankly at the body that lay before her. The foreign woman's midnight black hair splayed everywhere under her, the ivory skin that was sliced through by Raiha was smeared in crimson; the wounds were crusting around the edges, glistening and oozing clear fluid along with the blood. Shiro's eyes bore down onto the woman's still figure, seeing another person in place of the stranger.
A warm tear leaked from the corner of her eye, splashing down into the bloody mess below her. She gripped her hands into ridged fists, a constrained choked sound gasping from her slightly parted lips. Pale and colorless, her skin drained from any emotion that was left within her. It was only then she threw her head up towards the gray skies and let out a terrible wail, resonating through the silent town, making the ones who were left cower behind splintered planks of wood or destroyed walls of brick.
By then, it was clear that death was the only fate if anyone uttered the cursed name. The villagers, the ones who were not courageous enough to face the girl, crouched either alone or in pairs, safe and alive. It appears that in the presence of the Shidare no Bushi, slaughter only came to the ones who defy her; cowardice was the only escape from her ghastly, skeletal grasp.
The white katana, splattered in black blood, lay shimmering upon the darkened ground. It's menacing blade glinted threateningly, the late afternoon sun reaching its peak in the gray sky and slowly fell back down towards the mountains. Shiro, who still wept louder than any heartbroken lover, leaned forward and curled her thin body around herself, her arms wrapping around her knees that dug into the ground. Just inches away from the stone-like body of the strange, raven-haired woman, Shiro let out another agonizing cry of lament, her body shaking violently from the unforgiving sobs.
A shinobi's footfalls tapped on the muddy ground. His eyes glinted rather playfully, a wide smirk spreading across his broad face.
“My my, Shiro-chan,” Kisame chuckled, his exceedingly large figure draped over by the dark Akatsuki cloak. “You let yourself slip, didn't you?”
Shiro just sat there, her face buried in her lap as her shoulders continued to shake.
Kisame scoffed.
“I'd expect more from you, Shiro-chan,” he said matter-of-factually. “But seeing that your insanity has been lodged inside of you for quite a while now, I can only presume that a monster resides in the dainty little girl I see before me now.”
“Urusai, Kisame,” a gruff voice lashed out at the large shinobi from behind.
The large man just chuckled.
“Itachi-san, this is the Shidare no Bushi,” Kisame laughed, his booming voice ringing in Shiro's ears. “A ruthless killer who takes no time to think about the consequences of her actions!”
“You're not anyone to speaking about rash movements, Kisame,” Itachi snarled. “Your blood lust is something I've had to endure these past few years.”
“Even more so, the beastly nature of the Shidare no Bushi surely cannot be contained. How is Leader-sama going to control her?”
Shiro shifted in her place, her shoulders now standing still as her long white hair draped over her eyes.
“Kisame!” Itachi growled more loudly.
“The Shidare no Bushi is a monster!” Kisame smiled a malicious smile. “A brutal killing machine that can be used for anything once you gain control of her head! Is that what Leader-sama wants to do? The Bijuu aren't enough for him, right? We need to gain control of a human weapon, to catch all of our opponents off guard! A master of slaughter such as the Shidare no Bushi!”
The mad samurai let out a blood curdling scream, snatching the hilt of her katana and whipping around, her eyes burning like a wildfire.
“Now you've done it, Kisame!” Itachi cursed as he hopped his way up on a roof once more.
“Alright!” the large shark-like man narrowed his eyes in anticipation. “Finally, now I can get some action!”
“Huuuuaaaaaahhhhh!” Shiro bellowed as she twirled her weapon into reverse-grip, swiping at Kisame with blinding speed.
The white blade caught onto his cloak, tearing it a clear five inches up his sleeve.
“My my,” Kisame chuckled. “They don't call it the Lightning Blade for nothing.”
“Shiro-san!” Itachi called from the rooftops, his voice loud and clear.
The samurai though could not near anything from within her trance, her madness that grasped over her mind like the clawed hand of a shinigami.
She side-stepped and launched herself at the shinobi, pushing off a brick wall and flying through the air like a panther. Her black eyes grew dull, clouded by the madness that shrouded her. She lashed out her blade, the razor-sharp tip nipping the ninja's cheekbone. A drop of blood trickled down the side of his chiseled face.
“Alright, enough of this child's play,” Kisame growled, wiping a sleeve over his shallow wound. He clasped his hands together in a series of hand seals. “Suiton: Exploding Water Colliding Wave!”
Out of nowhere, a giant wave of blue water, stained slightly of blood that mixed in with the ground, tumbled passed its caster and surged towards the girl.
Her black orbs, foggy and possessed, blinked once and then sheathed her right blade.
The motion baffled both shiniobi, who stared at her in disbelief as she stood there for a few seconds, weaponless. The tidal wave charged at her, its cold waters roaring in her ears as her bloodstained kimono flew back behind her. In the last five seconds, she whipped out her left blade, pointing it calmly at the jutsu.
“What are you – ?” Kisame began with a voice of uncertainty. His eyes widened in the action that followed next.
The wave collided with the tip of the blade, a strong wind the strength of a massive hurricane almost knocking everyone off of their feet. Limp bodies were thrown against walls, piling on top of each other as the winds whistled and shrieked. Mist enshrouded the place, Shiro's white hair seeming to purge itself from the blood that encrusted its strands, and blended in with the pale mist. Kisame stared beyond the disappearing wave in disbelief as the girl glowered at him with darkened eyes.
In a matter of seconds, the entire jutsu was absorbed. The two shiniobi, who stood petrified on either side of her, had witnessed the fearful power and stared at her in awe.
“Kyuminha...” Kisame murmured in shock. His foot shuffled back an inch of a step unconsciously, his arms held out slightly in front of him in defense. “So the Dormant Blade has finally decided to awaken...and show its true power...”
“So the right blade, known as Raiha,” Itachi whispered to himself as his scarlet gaze glimmered down onto the frighteningly calm and still samurai, “is the blade of offense. Meanwhile, the left blade, known as Kyuminha, is a form of defense...”
“My father,” Shiro shouted in a booming, hauntingly layered voice. The sudden words made both men jump. “Crafted these blades by hand as a master blacksmith. They have his own Chakra forged into them, in which he hand molded to contain specific powers. He called them as the people who fear them named them: Raiha and Kyuminha.
“Their white color comes from the pure yang half of his Chakra,” Shiro continued. “Constructing two blades out of one chunk of yang Chakra was a lucky spin for him; however, the yin half of the Chakra wasn't as lucky.”
“S-so the yin,” Kisame growled. “What happened to that blade?”
Shiro's onyx gaze flashed.
“My father crafted only one yin katana,” the samurai snarled. “And it was stolen from him on the day my sister was born!”
Itachi lowered his crimson gaze, a fierce growl ripping from his throat.
“Shiro-san,” he called down to the girl.
In response, the girl whirled around to face the ninja.
“Nani?”
“You are aware, of course, that you are losing your sanity right?”
Shiro scoffed, barking in retaliation.
“So what?”
“Well,” Itachi hopped down from the building as he muttered, zig-zagging across the shingles. “I seem to have come to a final conclusion that your madness isn't really your fault.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Shiro sneered.
“What I mean is,” the raven-haired shinobi answered calmly. “The Chakra that is flowing within you is merging with the Chakra that is forged inside those blades. Now, what I've noticed with my Sharingan so far, is that your own Chakra is disturbed and contorted when you use the blades; the longer you use them, the more disrupted your Chakra seems to get.
“So I have come to the idea that, due to your father's careless crafting, the unstable and unbalanced yang Chakra inside those blades are the things that are messing with your head.”
It took a moment for the logic to sink into her already foggy mind, but when the connection was finally made, her glassy orbs widened in shock.
“My blades...” Shiro gasped, her gaze slowly inching down to stare at the white hilts. “Are the ones...that are causing me...pain...?”
“It seems to be so,” Itachi murmured. He stayed a good distance away from the unstable girl, for reasonable measures. “Remember that time at the hot spring resort? When you seemed to have killed the entire resort besides Kisame and myself without any trace whatsoever?”
Shiro, who had been staring at her bloodstained hands, slowly looked up at the shinobi in disbelief.
“...Y-yes...”
“I have a theory for that also.” The shinobi blinked away his kekkei genkai and made his way slowly up to the petrified girl, her monstrous blades sheathed back safely into their scabbards. Itachi reached out and took both of Shiro's hands into his own, feeling the iciness that plagues her thin fingers. “You see, there are two blades, forged from the same Chakra by the same man, right?”
Shiro blinked up at the man, her mouth hanging slightly ajar, and slowly nodded once.
“S...sodesu.”
“You've also shown some remarkable Chakra control for someone who has not had a strong foundation of the energy for long. See, I have this theory that you can already make clones.”
Shiro widened her already large orbs.
“B-bunshin?”
“Hai,” Itachi grunted, nodding in confirmation. “But the thing is, I think your clones are a different kind of clones.”
“What other clones are there, Itachi-san?” Kisame interject from the side. “There's only regular clones and shadow clones! How can there be any other type?”
“I believe Shiro-san can create invisible clones,” Itachi concluded. This straight answer almost made his large partner topple over.
“Like, clones who can use the Cloak of Invisibility jutsu? That's just like any other clone though!”
“No, these are different,” Itachi explained smoothly. “They're copies who are made to be invisible; and I believe that power comes from the blades.”
“R...Raiha?” Shiro suggested shakily.
“And Kyuminha.” Itachi nodded. “I think one makes the clones, while the other makes them invisible.”
“T-that can't be possible...” Shiro stared down at the swords, tucked inside their sheathes, with wide eyes, her skeletal hands quivering inside Itachi's firm ones. “It can't be...Otousan...”
“Your attachment to the blades are explained by my theory also,” the raven-haired man said bleakly. “Either it's because part of your dead father's presence is in those katana, or because the unbalanced Chakra that runs through them are taking over your mind like a drug.”
Shiro's foggy eyes stayed large, her face draining from any remaining color that was left inside her hollowed cheeks. She slowly raised them to meet the ninja's, which were calm and soft. Her hands, shaking madly, pressed down hard into his warm palms as her icy fingers continued to shake.
“I do feel...the madness starting to ebb away...now that my blades...are no longer touching me...” the girl murmured uncertainly. Her eyes flickered across Itachi's still face. “Itachi-san...what is happening to me...?”
“You must refrain from using these blades again,” the ninja whispered.
Shiro's fearful eyes flashed, a sense of instability taking root inside her mind once more.
“Quit using them?” Shiro gasped. “You don't understand what you're asking me to do!”
“It's for your own health,” the shinobi let go of one of her hands and used his to stroke her hair, his palm cupping her cold cheek. “If you're to escape your cursed name that you hate so much, you must stop using these blades.”
“I can't...” Shiro whispered in disbelief. “I don't believe you...”
“Please,” Itachi breathed, lifting her head so her eyes met his once more. “Please Shiro-san...stop with this madness and cease your dependence on these katana...on your deceased father...”
“You...” the girl's dark eyes, shining a clear gloss, now misted and grew tense.
“Onegai...” Itachi pleaded. “Give me the blades...”
“You...!” Shiro growled, her lower jaw biting against her top.
Itachi yanked the samurai close, hugging her into his chest as his eyes shut tight.
“Forgive me...”
“You!”
“Shiro-san...”
“YOU!!”
The girl let out an earsplitting scream, her hands hooking into the shinobi's cloak like claws and hacking at the cloth like a rabid panther. Enraged and furious, she shook against the man's strong body at a firm attempt to break free. She opened her mouth and let out another shriek, her darkened eyes wide with madness and her skin white as a sheet. Itachi, unable to restrain the girl any longer, grasped the belt that the two white blades hung across the samurai's waist upon, and yanked it from her hips. Screeching with rage, Shiro snapped her teeth at Itachi like an animal, her hands gripping his cloak and digging into his skin. With the belt and katana secured on his hand, Itachi pushed the samurai roughly away from him, making her tumble back into a building.
The shinobi immediately hopped up onto the roofs, Kisame following closely at his tail.
With her body indenting the brick wall of the building, Shiro lifted her groggy head. Her eyes, now glowing a murderous obsidian, glossy like poison, Shiro let a snarl rip from her throat and launched herself from the wreckage. She stumbled upon her feet for a dozen steps, tripping over her dizziness and heaviness as her feet struggled to get a grip on the ground. But with one sudden solid stomp of her black flat, Shiro bolted forward with incredible speed, chasing after the two shinobi with a daunting determination gleaming in her infuriated orbs.
Itachi ran as fast as he could, knowing he could be killed if he refused to tear himself away from the rampaging girl. Kisame, who stuck close behind him, could only smirk as he saw the troubled girl scurry after them, stumbling upon her own clumsy feet. With the two white katana hanging from Itachi's firm grasp, the chase commenced.
Shiro barged after them, clawing her way up buildings and tearing away shingles with her bare hands as she badgered her way across the rooftops, falling and scrambling after the two men who quickly came into her sight. Her eyes, wild and untamed with rage, glimmered in some glint of villainous intent. She opened her mouth again, releasing a beast-like screech as she clobbered her way over the tops of the roofs, hopping into the high branches of the trees as her chase dragged on.
She threw her body relentlessly at the branches, swiping her arms across the thick trunks and digging her nails into the wood to grip onto the tree before leaping over to the next, grunts and heavy pants escaping her heaving chest.
Trails of blood trained behind where her fingers dug into the wood, the pain not seeming to bother the girl even for a second as she threw herself to the next branch, one after another, as she gained up on the two fleeing ninja. Slamming her dainty feet down onto the wood, she kicked herself off into the next tree, splintering the branch in her rampaging wake. Grasping onto the trunk and thrusting herself onward, Shiro growled and shrieked, an animal chasing after its next prey.
Itachi, keeping his composure, accelerated forward with the belt tied securely to his hand. He held his Akatsuki cloak together, leaping off the branches with the green leaves whizzing by his face as he made his escape, Kisame behind him with his large shark-skin sword in hand. The two men, no matter how much they denied it, were running away from the beast who tore after them; fearing for their own lives.
~~~*~~~
Gomen'nasai for the lack of updates!! I've been busy with stuff, including writing my new fanfiction!
For those who hadn't been keeping up, I've been working on a new piece called "The Chains of Humanity." It's an SnK CanonXOC fanfiction starring Matsumoto Saika, a girl the age of fifteen who was sold into slavery, and the infamous Levi (Rivaille)! If you are enjoying or have enjoyed what is posted of SnK, please take a look at this incredible tale! It is posted on my profile.
Please remember to comment, VOTE, and to follow me for future updates!
And as always, thanks for reading!