040  - The Primordial Tree-hugger

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

To love is to sacrifice…

We relished the sensation of natural energy coursing through our meridians. Our chakra network buzzed pleasantly as we felt the world's essence pour into us. 

It was intoxicating!

To love is to sacrifice…

The feeling inebriated us so much that we scarcely reacted when the others vacated the room. Our inattentiveness towards our immediate surroundings greatly alarmed us on a subconscious level, but we were already far beyond the point of truly caring. 

To love is to sacrifice…

This sensation… this connection. How long have we longed for it? How many years have we spent, in a ponderous haze, searching for a way to better intimately comprehend the world around us? We had always been able to perceive this existence, but never truly touch beyond our mortal shell. Like a precious art piece hidden behind a glass screen, we could only observe. It eluded us constantly, flittering just beyond our grasp. Taunting. 

To love is to sacrifice…

How many years had we wasted wooing creation herself in our quest to achieve understanding? How many times had she dismissed our advances with a disdainful air, regarding us as… aberrant. Alien.

How many years lost? 

"…"

…How could we have been so blind?

To love is to sacrifice… Such a simple phrase, yet one we never paused to contemplate in our entitled hubris and arrogance!

How could we have been so blind? So foolish!

And of course, it had to be something as innocuous as us metaphysically acknowledging our attachment to our clan for this existence to begin to regard us as one of its own. The pettish, shrewish thing. 

We inhaled, drawing in even more natural energy. The stream of essence rushed into our chakra network as we attempted to blend it with our physical and spiritual energies. But, alas, to no avail. We tried again, and again until it became glaringly obvious we could proceed no further. The imbalance between our spiritual and physical energies was simply too great to overcome; far too Yin-aligned to be considered natural. What had previously been an unprecedented boon to our progress as a shinobi now stymied our ability to progress further where it truly mattered. So, yet again, creation rejects our advances, turning down our attempts at communion. 

With a reluctant sigh, we stopped drawing in the world's essence, wary of overloading our system and permanently damaging our mortal shell. We let the energy we had gathered so far disperse into the atmosphere. 

But though we failed we were still in a very pleasant mood. We had made progress; more so than we had been graced with as of recently. We rose from our seat with a stretch, blinking our eyes back into focus. We looked outside to see the sun had already set. Nighttime.

"Tokiwa, right?" we said, addressing the kunoichi standing in the leftmost corner of the room. The woman seemed skilled enough; her attempt at hiding in plain sight using Chameleon Jutsu would have been rather effective had it not been used against us. 

"...Yes?" she replied hesitantly.

"Could you please help me pass a request to Lady Marika? I would like to know if you have any death row inmates you wouldn't mind giving to me."

"...How many do you need?"

"Two would be fine."

"...Any other specifics?"

"No, not really. As long as they are shinobi it should be fine."

"...Understood."

We smiled as the kunoichi flickered away, leaving us to our devices. With a disinterested sniff, we lifted the bottom end of our kimono to inspect our left ankle; or more specifically, the location on our person that Tobirama fellow marked us with his technique formula. Obviously, we had sealed the dimensional anchor with a seal of our own to prevent the pest from teleporting to our side unannounced. Even now we could feel his intent pushing futilely against our barrier. 

We let our Sharingan surface, the Dojutsu instantly revealing the inner workings of the other shinobi's design. Despite our misgivings about the Senju, we had to concede to the ingeniousness of his creation. We observed as his chakra leaked out of the dimensional void just beyond the seal in his attempt to come out.

In a way, it was fascinating to observe as his chakra protectively shrouded him within the void, preventing the spontaneous obliteration of his existence as it traversed planes it had no business traversing. We stopped ourself from reaching for the Kage himself on the other end as there was no point in alerting him to his blunder. Instead, we explored the numerous anchors he had planted all throughout the entirety of his life span… and beyond.

With a smile, we coated our index finger in chakra before tapping on the windowsill. Through our Dojutsu, we watched as a perfect replica of his technique formula appeared on the fixture. We tried removing it, but for some reason, the connection between this reality and that region of the dimension refused to be dispelled. With a shrug, we placed another seal over the dimensional anchor, essentially locking out anyone else who wasn't us from using it.

We resolved to properly explore this newly acquired strategic advantage at a later time, filing the matter. With that out of the way, we looked up to regard Tokiwa who had just returned from her errand.

"Lady Marika approved your request," she said. "Would you prefer to have the prisoners brought to you?"

"No," we replied. "Take me to them; I would hate to make a mess here."

For a long moment, the woman stared strangely at us. In the end, though, she said nothing in response as she turned around to lead us to our next destination."

…

We were led down a dark gloomy hallway. Buried deep in the guts of the village was a heavily restricted area, barely lit and crawling with special operatives. The military prison was everything we imagined it to be; harsh, inhumane conditions, constant isolation and surveillance, and a glaring focus on abuse and torture. 

You know, the good stuff.

Our trek through the corridor of wondrous horrors sadly soon came to an end as Tokiwa stopped in front of a cell holding two male inmates.

"These two here are Takeru and Oguri," she said gesturing to the malnourished men in the cell. "Both formerly Chunin-ranked shinobi from the village hidden in the mist. They were most likely deserters when we apprehended them. Both are suspected of being guilty of the rape and murder of a Genin of our village. The poor child had just graduated from the academy and was on her first mission when she got separated from her team and ended up stumbling into the clutches of these miscreants..."

We glanced at the kunoichi beside us from the periphery of our vision as she gave us the unsolicited debriefing. To be frank, we really did not care whatsoever about the backstory of these two or how heinous their crimes were. Humans were worthless in that regard, with their apparently ingrained nature to ill-treat their fellows. The crimes of this duo would at the end of the day amount to nothing more than a blip in the millennia-long list of evil their race had and would continue to inflict upon itself. 

Still, we had to put up appearances. We were being evaluated after all; nothing new. We let our gaze harden into a perfected facsimile of a glare. Our posture stiffened minutely in barely concealed rage and our chakra did a little churn to really sell the display.

"Then I guess you would have no problems regarding what I plan to do to them then," we said as we reached for the seal keeping the sacrifices imprisoned. The barrier shattered as we touched it, mildly alarming the woman beside us. 

"Come," we told the malnourished men. Under the effects of our Sharingan, the thralls walked forward, stopping just an arm's length away from us. 

"Kneel," we said as we cut the tip of our index finger. We caught the blood that dripped out in a film of chakra, before reaching out to draw seals on the duo's foreheads. Our intent heaved and the chakra-infused blood flared, burning the seal into their flesh. 

Content with the result, we took two steps back. "You might want to give them a bit of space," we told Tokiwa.

*Katate-hebi*

*Katate-tora*

*Katate-uma*

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Then suddenly, the seal on the thralls' foreheads sizzled in a flash as it drew violently on their chakra pools. The sudden disturbance in their chakra freed the thralls from our Genjutsu; both fell to the ground screaming loudly as their bodies began to bloat unnaturally under the effect of the technique. This process continued for a while, and by the time that step was complete, the sacrifices had fallen unconscious, and their inhumane screams no longer echoed through the facility.

Slowly, their limp engorged bodies deflated, morphing to assume the template we had imagined when we branded them with the seals. Our chakra drained as their malnourished bodies assumed a healthier appearance. Their facial features assumed more feminine forms, their hips flared and their chests filled out with mammaries. The hair on their heads fell out and a luscious brush immediately grew to replace it. 

For the climax, we split two slivers of our soul from the main mass before implanting them in thralls, observing carefully to ensure the original souls and the memories attached were fully consumed and their personalities completely erased. 

The two new blood clones slowly rose to their feet. We nodded in contentment as they tested their new limbs, acquainting themselves with their newfound mortality. On our part, as expected, our total chakra pool was, at the moment, reduced to a third of its original capacity, but unlike the inferior shadow clone jutsu the effect would wear out in a few weeks.

"...What did you just do?" the Kunoichi in attendance asked, pale-faced. 

We smiled at her. "Nothing. I just recycled the trash."