The Longest Night

"Listen closely, you three," Danzo proclaimed in a commanding voice, facing his sons, his hands clasped behind his back. "For as long as you are alive, you must never forget the Shadow's Code. Remember these three rules as they are what bind us together." Danzo turned around and imposed his index finger upon the three boys as they listened intently, not daring to interrupt the man, "One..." he declared, "The parent is absolute. As your father, my will takes precedence, and it must be obeyed." With this, Danzo raised a second finger. "Two... Vegeance is everything. As shinobi, there is no shame in losing one battle, but you must take revenge by any means necessary." Danzo raised the third and final finger. "And three... Victory must always come before honor. You are not samurai, you are ninja, and you will act as such..." Danzo paused for a brief moment, letting his words sink deep into the hearts of his only audience. From beneath furrowed brows, he looked between the three boys to see how they were taking it all in. Then he turned around, facing away from them with an unsmiling look on his face. "That is all. Now we can begin our training. In case you haven't noticed, Hakoda and Ukon, your brother Sozin will be joining us today."

Hakoda, the eldest of Sozin's two older brothers, laughed and glared in contempt at Sozin. "Is that why he's here? I thought he just wanted a better view than usual."

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up getting hurt. I don't want him taking away from your attention, father. You should be training us instead," Ukon, the middlest brother, said.

"We'll see how he does..." Danzo muttered, making no effort to hide the fact that he wasn't expecting much. He cast Sozin a brooding glare, his eyes demanding that the boy bring something with at least a modicum of value to the table today. Unlike last time.

Sozin frowned at his father's words and felt himself shrink a little under the man's penetrating gaze. Worried, the small boy tried mustering up the fiercest look he could, but even the most oblivious of people would've been able to tell how nervous he was. As a quiet and meek boy by nature, it was something he struggled with often and just another one of the many reason his father despised having him around the estate. But it didn't really matter where he was—at school, in public, or at home, pretty much everyone was able to tell Sozin's true nature as soon as they saw it. It was almost like people had a way to just know a weak person when they saw one. Even if he didn't have a scared expression on his face, his gritty eyes and tensed lips looked ridiculous compared to his bigger brother's because, deep down, Sozin knew they weren't faking anything.

Sozin had often heard the age-old adage "fake it until you make it", but that didn't seem to be working for him quite so well. What if you never make it? At least there was a silver lining today—things weren't all bad. After all, he'd managed to get a second chance to prove his worth to his father, and that was something, if but a chance and not a guarantee.

As a crude but effective way of measuring a shinobi's potential, Danzo had put his sons through an initial test of swordsmanship, the same one that he had any prospective trainees under his command do in the Interior Ministry. It was only one part of a rigorous screening process to ensure that only the best of the best got into the Ministry's elite shinobi division that Danzo himself got to lead as a member of Ishida's war council. Despite his infamous cruelty, he was undoubtedly one of the most brilliant and tolerated members present on the council, as without his efforts and those of his shinobi, the war against their neighbor, Tamura, would've been going much worse than it already was. Danzo was always keen to make it clear to the other members: efficiency and cruelty were often one in the same, especially during times of war.

As for Sozin, however, he paid little attention to the distant war happening on the borders as well as the frequent excursions it required from his father. He had only one thing on his mind every day and that was becoming a shinobi himself so he could carry on the family name with pride and distinction. After he'd failed to pass the test, not even getting past the initial trial the first time when he was younger, Sozin had been pleading with his father to give him a second chance at it for a long while now, and his father had finally given in. It was a difficult decision for the old man to make. He was a seasoned veteran, and the war meant that he wasn't home very often to tend to personally attend to training of his sons; he couldn't afford to waste time and energy on anything that wouldn't bring about results, even if that anything meant neglecting one of his own in favor of his brothers.

Sozin wrung his hands together. He'd been waiting for this chance, but now that it was finally here, he wasn't sure whether to be excited or even more nervous than he already was. He was only 12, and his brothers, despite being only a few years older than him, were already much bigger and stronger. They were talented for their age—two budding prodigies in the world of shinobi—unlike Sozin. How could he possibly compete with them? Out of the corner of his eye, he could see them peering down at him with a dirty, self-satisfied smirk written all over their faces. Sozin hated that. He hated it with all his heart. They knew they were better, but he would show them and prove to father that he was just as worthy of his training and guidance as his brothers were.

This was his second opportunity, but ever since he'd been deemed hopeless by his father after squandering the first, Sozin had resorted to helping Danzo and his brothers train because he couldn't take part himself in their training sessions. Anything to get a closer look at the life of a shinobi. Although today was supposed to be his day, it was still his job to get out the equipment and set everything up for the actual training as well as the test.

In the training yard of the Daihachi estate, Danzo had Sozin bring out the equipment from the storage room as he usually did for them—this time, several rolled up tatami mats, a cutting stand, and two katanas which were Hakoda's and Ukon's. The mats would serve as targets, and once Sozin secured them upright, lined up side by side for slicing, they would be ready to start.

Sozin could feel his fingers trembling a little as he fixed everything together. His father and his brothers were watching him but especially his brothers. He could see the two of them looking his scrawny, pathetic form up and down from the corner of his vision. They probably saw him as little other than a bus boy that was only there to do their bidding. It made his hands work faster so he could get out of that compromising position as quickly as possible.

Soon, they were ready to get started. As the eldest, Hakoda was up first for the demonstration. Like his father wanted them to, him and his brother, Ukon, would demonstrate to Sozin how to properly deliver a cut since he had failed so terribly the first time.

Hakoda gripped his sword, letting a smug grin work its way onto his lips as he roughly brushed past Sozin, nearly knocking down the smaller boy.

"Hey!" Sozin called out. He scowled at Hakoda's backside, but that scowl quickly faded when he felt a large hand grip his shoulder. A shiver shot up Sozin's spine as he knew who it was.

"Watch closely if you can, little brother, and you might actually catch a glimpse of Hakoda's blade," Ukon jeered from behind him.

Sozin would've been lying to himself if he said he wasn't envious of his brothers. Hakoda and Ukon always looked so confident when they trained, and today was no different. He could see that Hakoda maintained a sturdy grip on his weapon. Steady. Strong. Hakoda stood, firm-limbed and with a formidable stance in front of the tatami mats, his posture bearing no flaws.

"Strike!" Danzo yelled.

At his father's command, Hakoda's blade snapped through the air with great speed and grace. He cut through all four of the tatami mats in one swift attack, and the severed tops fell to the ground, defeated by a perfectly executed cut.

"Impressive, my son," Danzo praised. "Aptly performed." Danzo turned his attention elsewhere, his gaze instantly snapping to Sozin. "You see, boy? That's how it is done!"

Sozin rubbed his other arm, a pitiful attempt at trying to comfort himself. If he had to pick one word in the entire world that he dreaded the most, it would probably be boy. There was no single word more harmful to him in the common tongue than simply "boy". He hated the way his father said it. Whenever he heard boy, he always tried to hear son instead, but his ears would never listen no matter how hard he imagined.

Sozin's gaze fell to his feet. How would he be able to top the performances of his brothers? They seemed to be so gifted and talented in everything that they did. It was like they were perfect. Why couldn't he be like them rather than what he was now? The two of them were the spitting image of their father and nothing less. Sozin, on the other hand—in body and in spirit, it was hard to even tell that he was related.

Hakoda twirled his blade as he returned to his spot on the sidelines right next to Sozin. He cast his little brother a smug grin when their gazes glanced off each other like fire and ice.

As the second oldest brother of the trio, Ukon was up next. He was only a year younger than Hakoda, making his technique a little less polished, but his speed and skill with a blade still proved to be close second to his eldest brother's. Smiling devilishly, he cut off the middle portion of the tatamis with a dazzling spin and slash attack that caught the attention of everyone watching.

Everyone except Hakoda at least.

Danzo and Sozin had been so focused on watching the display that neither of them noticed when Hakoda ran the length of his katana against the blunting edge of a rock. The older boy scowled at his youngest brother as he did so behind their backs. Sozin didn't have his own sword. He didn't deserve one either and would be forced to use one of theirs.

Despite his earnest attention during both demonstrations of swordsmanship, Sozin didn't glimpse much of anything from either. He supposed his lack of training meant that he didn't have the sharpened eyes of a shinobi yet, however, he didn't need the eyes of a shinobi to see how far his brothers were ahead of him. It bothered Sozin to no end, but that was okay. Once he passed his test, father would show him how to see like a ninja. With father's guidance, he was certain he could become as good as they were.

Hakoda slithered next Sozin again. "Looks like you're last, little brother. You're going to need this," he said, offering his katana to him. Sozin grabbed the lower half of the handle and tried to pull it away, but Hakoda continued to hold the weapon firmly in his grasp, keeping both of them there for a moment. Hakoda smiled ominously. "Good luck..." he said in a low voice before releasing his grip.

Sozin's eyebrows creased in confusion. Odd. He wasn't sure what that was about.

Standing on off to the side, Danzo crossed his arms. "This is your chance, boy. Prove yourself worthy of my instruction."

The two brothers exchanged conniving glances with each other.

"Knowing how to swing a sword is a basic skill," Danzo continued. "Even if you don't do it perfectly, you should at least be able to cut through an easy target like this if you are to be trained. You can do that, can't you? Your brothers were younger than you were when they did it, and they were able to do it on their first try."

Sozin nodded, his grip on the hilt of the sword tentative. "I can do it, father."

"Good..." Danzo said. "Now do what you came here to do and cut the mats, and perhaps then, you can prove to me that I am wrong about your potential."

Sozin readied himself as best as he could. He didn't know how to take any stances since he'd never been taught, so he just settled his feet into the ground held his katana out in front of him with both hands like he meant it. He'd seen his brothers doing something similar just moments earlier, and even though it felt like something was wrong with his posturing, it couldn't be completely worthless, now, could it?

Sozin focused intently on the remainder of his target. Hakoda and Ukon had taken the top and middle parts of the tatami mats, but the lower four would be his to claim. Taking in a slow breath, he breathed out just the same, trying to steady his nerves and maintain that concentration that was the hallmark of any warrior worth their weight in salt. He let his eyes graze the stone tiles of the training arena in contemplation, and then they closed as he delved deeper into the realm of thoughts, his sword lowering slightly as he tried to picture how the cut should be made. How it would feel.

And then, his eyes shot open.

There it was.

In one instant, Sozin's gaze shot up, narrowing on his target, his grip tightening on the handle of the katana. He swung with all the might in his bones, and he could feel it. His sword cutting through the air as he drove it with every fiber of his being. He believed it would cut through. It had to.

But then it stopped.

The blade stopped cold in its tracks right after the first mat.

W-what? No!

Sozin didn't want to look. The world seemed to slow down, and all the good feelings and warm emotions he had been so excitedly expecting immediately turned to mud right before his very eyes. He stared in crushing defeat as the single piece of tatami mat he had managed to cleave through fell depressingly to the ground, rolling until it came to a grinding halt in front of his toes. He had been so close and yet so far. It was like ash slipping through his delicate fingers. He'd felt it in his bones; if his cut had just been a little bit better, it would've went through, but it wasn't better. His best hadn't been enough.

Sozin stood there frozen and agape, silent like every part of him had just been mashed up and thrown away. He turned, and he saw his father giving him the same look he and everyone else always did. A look of disappointment. A look of shame. Right then and there, he knew what this meant. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Whether it was his first failure or his last, it was failure all the same.

"Still, you can't get past the first trial? Get out, boy!" Sozin heard his father snarl from the sidelines. "Get out of my sight if you know what's good for you! You're a disgrace!"

Sozin felt his heart sink into his legs.

"No, wait!" Sozin said, lowering to the ground in front of Danzo. He leaned forward and desperately bowed his head on his hands and knees. "Please, father! I'm sorry for failing you! I'll do better next time. I beg you to give me another chance!" Sozin pleaded.

"Boy..." Danzo warned darkly, "You dare defy my will? You continue to waste my time! Enough of this nonsense! Accept your failure and leave!"

"I don't mean to waste your time. I only wish to please you. I am your loyal son..." Sozin implored, desperation in his voice.

Danzo gazed down upon the thing at his feet. His eyes narrowed into a grim stare, and his expression hardened, bitter and icy. "No..." he whispered, gritting his teeth, "You aren't."

"F-father?" Sozin hesitated. He looked up but found himself paralyzed by fear.

The last thing he remembered was his father's foot hurtling towards his face.

All of a sudden there was a great darkness, and things became deathly quiet.

It was quiet for a while. A long while, in fact. There didn't seem to be any pain anymore—no worries or earthly concerns of any sort—but in that darkness, something, or someone, had decided to make itself known. A strange, foreign presence that bore nothing but ill will for others and corrupted energies spoke up into the abyss.

"One day, you will learn to walk the path..." a sinister voice drawled. "One day, you will become stronger and more terrible than all of them. You don't know who I am now, but you will. We aren't too different, you and I. In due time, you shall know my ways... Our ways..."

The voice seemed to fade away, and with it, any semblance of consciousness or memory.

Some time later, when nighttime had fallen over the mountainous Ishidan countryside, Sozin found himself awake again and in aching pain.

Blinking, Sozin came to his senses as he opened his eyes. His memory was fuzzy, but he realized that he was lying on familiar ground with a terrible migrane. His face hurt more than he ever thought it could. He took a second to gather himself, groaning as he sat up into a weak slump. He rubbed the back of his head—it hurt there as well, throbbing relentlessy like someone was knocking on it with a rock and had been for the past hour. Sozin figured he must've hit his head on the cold stone and blacked out if it wasn't from the force of his father's kick.

"Oh..." Sozin groaned again, shutting his eyes tight. He placed a hand on his temple. The pain was beginning to set in even more now that he was fully conscious.

Sozin was no stranger to pain, but that didn't mean its company was easy to tolerate. He was glad a kick to the face was all he'd gotten this time. He had endured far worse from the likes of his father and not to mention his brothers. Sure, his father's beatings hurt, but they never seemed to hurt as much as the disappointment in his eyes did every time he saw it. He was a bad son. How could he be a bad son?

In the past, Sozin had prayed like his mother had told him to. For many nights when he was a young boy, Sozin would pray to be strong and talented like his brothers were so that his father could be proud of him for once, but that day never seemed to come. And so he'd stopped praying a long time ago. He had never gained as much size nor as much strength as them, nor had he ever been as skillful, and it didn't look like he was ever going to. Sozin didn't understand it. He just wanted to be better. Was that too much to ask?

Dizzy in the head, Sozin somehow conjured together enough energy to stand up, his wary hands out to his sides in case he fell. He made his way off the training grounds and back to the main part of the estate. As he walked, he couldn't help but drag his legs. He wanted to collapse onto his futon and fall asleep again. He just had to get to his room. Every part of him hoped he didn't run into his father on the way there, lest he incur further punishment from his disgraceful presence. With confused eyes, Sozin realized that he had never seen his brothers suffer from his father's brutality, unlike him. Never in his life. Father had always treated them well and praised them for qualities that they'd been merely born with while Sozin was punished for his, like he had any control over that. In some morbid and cruel way, it was funny to think about, and the thought reminded him of something his father had said to him before about his troubles:

"Understand this, boy: Effort and results are not the same. Those who persist are merely stubborn, and stubbornness is little more than the strength of the weak. That is why your toils, no matter how great, are meaningless to me when nothing will ever come of them. You were simply not meant for greatness. That's all there is to it."

Sozin sighed. His pace started to slow to a crawl as he stared with pensive eyes at the ground. Ever since his father had told him that, he'd often found himself wondering if it really was the truth.

It wasn't long before Sozin was back within the walls of the estate. Plastered amongst rocky hills, the Daihachi residence was made up of several grand buildings. The center of the residence contained a pond and garden that separated the buildings framing all of its sides and led to the arched wooden entrance at the front. As would be expected from the home of the Great Mist Raven, an important Ishidan leader, the design of the estate was marked by gently-curved roofs and ornate architecture, exuding an air of elegance and stature. It's elevated position gave it an imperious view of the surrounding area and of Wakota as well, the nearby village.

Unsurprisingly, the residence was just as lavish on the inside as it was on the outside. Tatami mats, for walking rather than target practice, and only the finest wood had been used to make up the floor, and the walls were made of either wood or thin, decorative paper—all in keeping with traditional design. The tatami gave the rooms a distinct fragrance, grassy and herbal, that Sozin always noticed when he walked inside.

Sozin headed through the hallways. The walk through the estate's living quarters was a slow and ruminative one. He passed other servants along the way, some darting their eyes or glancing their heads at the trail of blood that had dried out of his nose. Eventually, he found himself at the door to his room, but when he opened the door, he wasn't expecting to see his mother there sitting on a chair in the darkened corner. The dissatisfied look on her face made his heart stop and his blood freeze almost instantly.

"Why can't you be more like your brothers?" Ursa lamented, staring at the floor in front of her. "Why did I end up stuck with you?"

"Mother?" Sozin croaked in apprehension. Black and purple bruises tattered her orbits. He had no doubt about who those were from.

"Where have you been, Sozin?" Ursa asked in harrowingly soft but intense voice. She was low and steady like she wasn't trying to spook him. "Do you know what's happened in the last few hours? I told you not to ask your father about training again." Ursa glowered, rising like some sort of apparition. She approached the boy. Looming over him, she whisked her fingers across her damaged face. "I warned you, you disobeyed me, and now look what's happened."

"I'm sorry, mother, I didn't think-"

Ursa clawed him hard across the cheek, digging her nails under the skin and quickly drawing blood. Sozin grimaced and clutched the side of his face.

"Enough of what you didn't think!" she shrieked, filling the room with her piercing, venomous yell. "I'm tired of your excuses! Your father hates me because of your failure." Ursa leered down with wild eyes at Sozin's smaller form.

"Please... Father already punished me," Sozin said tremulously, shrinking into broken smithereens. He tried to protect himself with hands, hiding behind them from whatever she was about to do next.

"No... Not enough, apparently..." his mother sneered, eyeing the dried blood running down to the boy's upper lip. "He hates me for giving birth to a child like you. You were a mistake. I should've listened to him when he told me to get rid of you. Look at what you've brought upon me!"

Sozin's eyes widened. His tongue seemed to skip from the pain and shock. "W-what? How can you say that? You've always told me you love me."

"I thought I did, but I can't put up with it any longer," Ursa said. "Ever since you came into our lives, you've brought nothing but disgrace upon this family and misery upon me. I suppose it's my fault. Unlike your father, I've been far too lenient with you, but that's all going to change tonight. You will learn your place... one way or another."

Ursa raised her hand.