[Shouki Shizuka]

Kumori's instructions had been simple and clear. 'Wake early tomorrow. When you've finished your morning chores, leave by the east gate and follow the Mako trail into the hills. Where the trail crosses a stream, your training will begin.' He handed her a sealed gate pass before she was dismissed.

Morning chores at the Shouki estate mostly consisted of maintaining the greenhouse. The clan had a voracious appetite for medicinal and poisonous herbs, both to fuel the Dokuyoke ritual and keep the clan's finances in the black. Shizuka was no stranger to waking up early, so she finished her duties quickly and headed for the gate some time before sunrise. The shinobi at the gate unsealed her pass with a tired disinterest and showed it to their partner, who scratched some notes into a book. The gate guard handed Shizuka a different pass for re-entry, and reminded her to report back before nightfall or she would be considered missing.

Not so long ago, Shizuka would've spent the entire night awake trying to figure out how the gate pass was sealed, so one day she could forge her own and make good on her escape from the clan. Even though she no longer needed to escape, such thoughts came to her mind unbidden as she made her way along the trail - there were two fishing villages near enough that she could borrow a boat and be lost deep in the fog before their owners awoke. Sail north west, and eventually she could make shore in the Land of Lightning and be free for good.

The distant rumble of a waterfall washed away Shizuka's intrusive thoughts. The dirt of the trail gave way to gravel as she approached the stream, though Kirigakure's heavy morning fog hid it from sight until she was upon it's edge. It was a fairly small stream, fifteen feet across and only a few feet deep at it's center. Two waterfalls could be heard some distance beyond the fog, one upstream and the other downstream. There was no bridge for such an insignificant trail - instead, a number of larger stones were placed several feet apart to allow for crossing without impeding the flow of water. Kumori Shouki was nowhere to be found. Either Shizuka's arrival several minutes before dawn was too early, or he was hiding.

"Good morning, Shouki-sama," Shizuka announced, her tone almost dry enough to clear away the mist and fog. "Your student has arrived as instructed."

[Shouki Kumori]

Shizuka… oh poor Shizuka.

Kumori had seen many kids die. Such horrors tormented him in his sleep, beckoning him to save them when it was already far too late, eternal karma burned into his darkened skin. Kumori was a man filled with plenty of bad karma from both people he killed directly and kids he witnessed die from a ritual he desperately desired to upgrade.

In the end… he was too old, too experienced, and too sharpened to shed a tear. Not as a form of disrespect, but he was unable to. It would inhibit his mission to make it end, but… his clan was absolute. At least, it made itself seem so, and he’d believed that for decades on end.

Now, in his late years, it felt as if the wheels of fate were beginning to crack upon turning once more. Would he be able to finish his research in due time? Oh time, how much he needed… poison was a tricky substance to manipulate with Shape Transformation, and even the oldest and wisest shinobi rarely ever got to masterfully manipulate the elements at their own will. That was why Jutsus were categorized and listed – not many were ever able to fully master a Basic Element to the point of being able to form it into anything they wished, like modeling clay. And it was infinitely more difficult with Poison Release…

But should he be able to crack the code, and invent a Jutsu that would allow the next generation to survive, then… surely, he would’ve done more than enough for his village. That ultimately drove Kumori to do what he did to this day.

…

Once Shizuka began talking out towards Kumori, white feathers began falling down. Only a few, but it would certainly be a surprise – especially since Shizuka’s chakra system was still stable. No Genjutsu… which meant that a giant, avian creature was flying above her, several meters in the air. The avian creature was huge, with a wingspan of at least 13 meters, nearly resembling a passing sun with her pure-white plumage. Strong but pleasant winds accompanied her landing as the giant avian, revealed to be a snowy owl, perched on a large boulder near Shizuka.

"Kumori, dear. Shizuka’s arrived,” the majestic owl spoke up with a serene voice filled with the knowledge of a bird who had seen so damn much in her longer-than-music life. The snowy owl glared curiously at Shizuka, uttering a very… heavy aura, but nonetheless was the owl a friendly creature who wouldn’t mind the curiosity of kids to draw them near her.

As for Kumori… his form cast a shadow over Shizuka’s after a few moments. Looming over her like a tower, the Great Shinobi was crossing his arms with authority flooding from his very skin as he spoke with an old, raspy voice: "Shizuka. I do not find it easy to forgive… but I have done so. Only because I sense your frustrations, and where they come from is not an unreasonable place.”

Today was time to train. Shizuka was a prodigy child waiting to hatch out of her egg – that much was certain from the fact that she survived the Ritual. "You can still feel it, can’t you? Bubbling deep underneath your skin is our clan’s mightiest weapon… and today, you shall learn to harness it, like I did many years ago.”

[Shouki Shizuka]

Shizuka was tense after announcing herself. Nervous, but focused. She strained her hearing to its limits, though she heard nothing besides the gentle, muffled roar of the waterfalls. When she spotted the first falling feather, Shizuka's fear surged - she reached for her kunai and prepared for an ambush - though none came. Then the giant owl landed, silent and graceful as snow, and called for Kumori. When he appeared from the mist, Shizuka tried to calm herself, to find a balance between battle readiness and etiquette.

Shizuka listened attentively as Kumori spoke. Her tranquil expression broke once - the slightest twinge of contempt - when Kumori mentioned forgiveness.

You are the one who should be begging for forgiveness, she thought. You Elders have driven the clan to ruin.

By the time he finished, no trace of contempt remained on Shizuka's face. She held her hands behind her back and bowed deeply.

"I am honoured by your graciousness, Shouki-sama. Everything you say is true."

There were many things Shizuka could be accused of, but impolite was not one of them.

"First, I must thank you for saving my life. My mother tells me you cured me when my injuries worsened, even when the other doctors were unable to help. As for my Hijutsu..."

Shizuka reached towards Kumori with a balled fist. The power of the Dokuyoke came to her easily, even though she avoided training it. When she opened her hand, a breath of deep purple gas sank to the stones at her feet.

"How am I to train it?"

[Shouki Kumori]

Kumori raised a hand in an act of… say, bashfulness. He did save her life, as was his duty as one who possessed medical knowledge, but he wasn’t used to such heartfelt compliments… perhaps, that was a detriment to his character. Perhaps not… but he felt that Shizuka was burdened by many things that he turned a blind eye to when he was younger. Things that he, too, underwent, but responded to in a different fashion.

How was he able to help her, now? There was only one suitable answer that the Plague knew that he could do, as the Demonic Plague… and as an elder of the Shouki clan and a successor of its secret techniques. Pass them down. Only in the last couple decades did he find it in him to do more than pass down techniques… and also improve upon them.

"Hebi,” he uttered once, raising both hands and clapping them together with otherworldly force – as if he was crushing a mountain between his bare hands – simply to form the Snake seal, "The Hebi seal… is repetitive in many of my Dokuton techniques. Perform the Hebi seal, and exhale from the depths of your belly… until you can feel your stomach acid burning your throat. Hold your seal, but lower both hands down when you can taste it as a signal to me.”

This would begin with Shizuka just summoning a poison cloud of any size – one of the first techniques that those who carried the Hijutsu were to learn. Poison clouds were of low concentrations, irritating but resistible, and Poison Release sought to enhance all manifestations of the Shouki clan’s organic poisons. Kumori could say that he was quite proud of his current progression in that field, but…

Kumori wasn’t proud of himself. He was only proud of being an asset to Kirigakure, and he’d come to terms with that years ago. Long ago, in fact. Long ago, he sought to sell his concept of ‘self’ for the betterment of Kiri, only to gradually be torn back into egoism by the progression of the next generations. Shizuka and her rebellious deeds were among them, too – points that made Kumori question things, even at his age… but he was stubborn, wasn’t he? And seldom a fan of opening up sensitive parts of himself.

[Shouki Shizuka]

Shizuka didn't know what to make of Kumori's reaction. Apparently her empty flattery had worked. Either that, or Kumori was just as deceptive as she was. He was an odd case within the Shouki clan. He was a prodigy - an avatar of war - and was one of the most decorated Kiri-nin ever to live. And yet, when his duties were completed, he spent his time privately, on some secret project noone seemed to understand the purpose of. Kumori could not be blind to the doomed course of the clan - everyone understood the Shouki would fall within the decade. In times such as these, a leader like Kumori would seize the power of the head by force and save the clan. At least, that was the dream - the unspoken wish of more than few.

Not Shizuka's of course. Beyond the issue of Kumori once calling for her execution, from Shizuka's perspective, it was the Dokuyoke itself that was the problem. The same ritual which led to their prosperity had forced the clan into an inescapable decline. When only 1 in 20 children survived the ritual, and every mother, in the course of a pregnancy, stood a 1 in 10 chance to lose their fertility - or their lives - the math was quite simple. Marriages outside the clan were of no help, even if they weren't frowned upon. The kiss of a Shouki suitor was a sweet as barbed wire - not fit to seduce even the most adventurous targets. In short, the clan could only survive by giving up the Dokuyoke - the hijutsu that had brought them prosperity in the first place.

Shizuka had such conflicting thoughts when she was called upon to practice her poison technique. She mostly wanted it gone.

"Hebi..."

Unlike Kumori, Shizuka weaved her handseal without fanfare. Breathing in deeply, she concentrated on the chakra within her body. All of the clan's techniques started from within, and the fundamentals were drilled into her many times. In truth, she was more than capable of practicing such techniques since her promotion to Genin - yet she feigned incompetence. If she were to escape, she needed techniques that didn't give her away. Such intrusive thoughts rose to her mind, but did not break her concentration. Finally, her chakra began tugging at her stomach, pulling its acid steadily into her throat.

She lowered her hands slightly, signaling Kumori at last.

[Shouki Kumori]

Kumori would not give up on the clan’s secret technique which had saved his life and those of the village countless times before. Power like that had to be preserved in one way or another – that was why his aim was to enable the Ritual by removing the lethality. And the leading cause of lethality was the raging poisons that kept shutting down the subject’s inner organs before their very cells were able to adapt to them. Cells of any kind needed time to adapt to biochemical changes, especially such as violent as these – it was why so many Medical Ninja spent years in the field developing resistances to several poisons themselves. But comparing years of exposure to… max a couple weeks?

One of the first questions that he asked himself was ‘Could the Ritual duration be extended, and the dose lowered to lessen the internal turmoil?’. While reasonable, such an idea was a short-term solution – poisons were still left unchecked when permeating into a child’s body, and that was the singular force that drove the clan to decline. Unchecked, uncontrolled poisons of all types… so the ability to manipulate them with Shape Transformation was his greatest aim. And he’d gotten this far, producing a couple handy Ninjutsu on the side.

But once the poisons were inside a fragile child’s body, Chakra Control of the highest caliber was needed… and Kumori, despite his experience, struggled in that category. But he had the foundation ready, and it was like creating other Ninjutsu in the past – it was difficult at first, and required patience above all, but once the map was fully drawn, the next generations could trace from that and master in record time what he’d spent his entire life to achieve.

And that would be a revitalization of the Shouki clan’s numbers… the elders, those who were the lucky ones, only gained more immediate power the lower the numbers got. So if more youngsters could survive – if all youngsters could survive – then certainly, a great change would spike the Shouki clan and draw it out from the deep pit it was sinking into as of now…

He was still at the start, inspecting a youngster named Shizuka with sharp eyes. Once her hands lowered, he knew that she was feeling the burning acid reach up to her throat, which was the initial release of poison gas. The Nature Transformation part was ready… but it wasn’t the same type of Nature Transformation as transforming one’s chakra into an Element – nay, this was using chakra to manipulate existing material. A tedious task, indeed… but Shizuka was diligent. That was a fact.

"Now, release the poison gas while holding the Hebi seal… slowly.” Should she do so, it was likely that Shizuka would notice a feeling of water escaping her mouth instead of gas. The handseal that she performed, like all other handseals, were meant to help mold chakra - now, it was used to mold the chakra that held the poison gas together upon release.

[Shouki Shizuka]

Slowly was easy for Shizuka. Since her earliest attempts at chakra control, she had trained to be deliberate, precise. The sealing arts required a steady hand not only to draw seals, but also to avoid overcharging a talisman with chakra and destroying it. As such, Shizuka's chakra expression had a calm and stable flow, lacking the explosiveness needed for many other techniques. In fact, her slowness had a certain special quality to it which would surprise even Kumori - the growing delay between phases of the technique, and the heavy pause as her chakra transformed the poison, and the building tension when she opened her mouth and released the gas - yet, for all the efforts and concentration, the result was comical. The poison released made a ball no larger than a head.

Shizuka thought she heard the owl guffaw. Her cheeks were red from shame, though mercifully in the pre-dawn darkness it would be near impossible to notice. She had fallen for old training habits of utilizing far too little chakra. The massive clouds of poison emblematic of the Shouki clan were, for the moment, far out of reach. Shizuka tried to distract herself from her embarrassment by posing Kumori a question.

"Shouki-sama. May I ask you a question?" She continued before he could deny her. "Are the elders even doing anything to save the clan?"

The directness of the question - the sudden break of decorum - would be a second shock to Kumori. Her question was an accusation, to him and the other elders. One he had heard before, by comrades in his trust. One he had himself asked many times about the other elders, who seemed content to block his reforms to the Dokuyoke and wait for a miracle. It was the only question that mattered to the clan for many years. And for many years, it had a simple answer: more sacrifices to the Dokuyoke. There were few besides Kumori who realized this answer failed from the beginning. Now, those who accepted the sacrifice were trapped in their delusions, unwilling to come to terms with the gravity of their error - or their cruelty.

Not that Shizuka was aware of any of this. While she was drawn into the politics of the clan, her concerns were mostly centered around avoiding marriage and continuing her promised career as a shinobi. Kumori's answer was important. If he wanted to restore her broken trust, he had to give a satisfying response. If he failed, her cooperation would be false, coerced. Useless.

[Shouki Kumori]

A ball… was still a ball. Shizuka didn’t appear to be the frivolous chakra spender, which was quite a habit that some Genin struggled with after graduating. Chakra was to be used efficiently, and that could mean many things… if pumping a huge amount of chakra into a technique that ends the fight, was it really a bad spending?

But Shizuka hadn’t achieved her desired result. Ima’s chuckle made that clear, as if the giant owl could notice the young kunoichi’s subtle facial alterations, even in the glooming dark of this morning. And yet, the owl also noticed that the poison cloud kept its spherical form for a prolonged period of time. "My, my… nothing to be embarrassed about, Shizuka. Its retaining its form, after all.”

"That, it is… it’s a promising start. Now-" Kumori intended to continue onto the next step of the training, but before he could express his ideas, Shizuka hit him with a heavy question… almost out of nowhere, but at the same time, Kumori knew this question very well. And he knew the implications behind it.

It was many things, alright. Many feelings behind such a question – the stubborn elder would immediately strike it down as an act of insubordination and demand that Shizuka keep focus on the training schedule. A harsh mother would likely swat at her for insinuating the futility of the elders. Kumori got a glimpse of the past through her eyes for an instance, facing a young male with a bushy ponytail, dirt on his face, glowing yellow eyes, and brows that couldn’t move from their frowning posture. Tensed musculature, aching bones, a beating heart, and heavy words thrown at his back…

Knowing that his efforts back then might’ve proved nothing to the clan who, otherwise, drew pride from his accomplishments. After all, when he would die, how many more kids would follow suit until another prodigy was born? Thus… what exactly did Shizuka expect him to say?

"The elders… will likely perish before they get the chance to do anything else,” Kumori expressed, pointing to their old ages more than any ill intents, "Death lingers in the air above our clan’s grounds, day and night. The others abandoned to abolish it, but have begun to worship this aura – that it cultivates strength and solidarity within the clan… that only those who conquer death are worthy of carrying our secret gifts.” It was the twisted psychology of the council in the Shouki clan that hallowed death to such a degree, thinking it an ethereal organ of the clan’s very existence – that the Shouki were meant to deal with death at a higher rate than everyone else, for the purpose of cultivating the strongest, toughest and most merciless shinobi.

For such a vision, a child’s dying breath was but a confirmation of their beliefs – it was weak and frail, and it was unable to carry the burden of their gift on its shoulders… but Kumori was strong. Shizuka was strong. Yashura was strong. Their bodies were powerful enough to embrace poison from near infantry…

And the elders were the strongest…

"Tell me, Shizuka… what is better? To be born strong, or to overcome your weak nature through great effort?”

[Shouki Shizuka]

Shizuka listened to Kumori's reply as she watched her ball of poison disperse. It wasn't much of an answer though. Rather, he posed her a question of his own - a loaded one. Shizuka understood the meaning quickly enough. The Shouki clan proved their strength by surviving the ritual, and were 'born' only when they had attained immunity to poison. Thus, every member of the Shouki clan was 'born strong' and any answer which failed to reflect that would go against clan teachings. An elder would expect - demand - an answer in line with these teachings.

"Within the clan, only the strong have the right to be born at all. There is no such thing as weakness to overcome," Shizuka replied, politely.

"Yet... Lao Zhang writes that true strength is only attained through loyalty to a righteous ruler. The strongest warrior, acting alone, is nothing more than a bandit. They are cut down by a single pen stroke from the weakest official in service to a righteous empire." Her words were taken from a foreign scholar, whose texts she had copied several times practicing penmanship.

"Those who are loyal to a wicked ruler, however, do not cultivate strength. They cultivate a wicked heart, and such wicked hearts cannot act together in harmony to produce true strength. The wicked empire spreads weakness and disorder, and will collapse." There was still a chance to stop - to smile and offer Kumori flattery for whatever empty words followed her answer. But Shizuka had run out of patience. She had spent years towing the line, giving the 'correct' answers. Whatever Kumori's intention was in giving her this question, she would not give half an answer.

"Lao Zhang would say our collapse is caused by the wicked hearts of the clan leaders. And so long as those leaders remain, no effort can produce true strength." Shizuka's contempt for Kumori pierced through the darkness as clear as dawn. She clutched a kunai sheathed on her belt behind her and glared - as if she could kill him with pure will - pure spite. Kumori felt something familiar from the battlefield. Something he had trained long ago to hide.

Killing intent.

"You're to blame. If you think death makes the clan strong, then try it yourself."

[Shouki Kumori]

The clan hurt her. And it hurt others… did the harm make them stronger? Or did something else?

It wasn’t directly tangible, but with observation over long spans of time, one could tell apart strength from weakness. Kumori was one of the oldest seniors in the Shouki clan – he’d seen it all. From the crying screams of a newborn to the gasping breaths of a dying elder… the crying of elders, the gasping of children, the dying breaths of all in-between. He’d seen it all.

The clan thought that death… nay, fear made one strong. Fear didn’t make you strong – it only made you a coward. A coward unable to do what was right… maybe that was the answer behind the elders’ inactivity. Simply fear.

And if Shizuka wanted to swear her loyalty to a righteous ruler, then the clan was out of the question. The way it was today, she’d end up dead – why did they all have to die? Serve… serve Lord Toru. If Kumori knew any righteous leaders, it’d be him. That was why… that was why the strange elder with the owl vest was a special case. One who valued the village truly over his own blood could proudly call himself a Kiri-nin. No ill intent, no deceit, no lies behind his worn-out eyes.

But Shizuka was young. Wise, logical, but young. Her emotions began boiling up deep inside of her, anger towards the elders who were dooming the clan she called home. Damning the tradition that had robbed her of her siblings for centuries. Damning a clan that threw her around like an asset, at all times ready to throw her to the side should her valuable life come to an end. A wicked, evil clan… and Kumori agreed. The Shouki, as it was now, was an inherently evil clan. It wasn’t something that the ancestors just decided one day – this was the result of years, decades of utilizing the Dokuyoke, reveling in it, depending on it…

Kumori would perfect the Ritual. And every child of the Shouki, weak or strong, would reap the fruits of its amazing power. Every child, weak or strong, had the requirements to be a shinobi. Every child, weak or strong, had the will to live… just like he had. He wanted to live, against all odds.

Shizuka’s killing intent was so like the Shouki’s blood within her. He was impressed, and he responded in kind, stopping years of holding back killing intent. Hissing gasses, flying serpents, dying blood and rotten flesh. Last breaths, falling men, splattered corpses and spirited women. Nightmarish, ancient, almost fable-like was his aura, his Tōki.

…

"Strength means nothing if the clan ceases to exist.”

Kumori shoved a hand into his back holster and pulled up a sealed scroll, reaching it towards Shizuka in an attempt to simply, purely, hand it over to her. The seal would undo, and the contents would be available to her for reading and watching – an illustration of the human body, brought by Kumori’s medical experience, and a depiction of the blood circulatory system in a human figure. Next to it were notes on doses that could run through various limbs of living targets, knowledge achieved from the Civil war. However, some doses were instantly lethal, some combinations of drugs and fauna didn’t initiate the resulting source of their Hijutsu, and others had no effect.

Kumori was trying to find a… say, a way for a dosage and circulation route to run throughout a human body that was non-lethal. Shape Transformation was also noted in the scroll – control of the poison’s flow in the blood system meant that the practitioner could avoid causing poison damage in vital areas if need be. That alone meant that they could directly regulate the Dokuyoke Ritual’s process, for the leading cause of death in the Shouki clan was blood poisoning that led to organ failure.

"Death erases strength. What power does a corpse have, Shizuka?” Kumori asked, his aura dissipating back into the grumpy, old man he genuinely was, "But this Hijutsu… it’s a wall and a mighty weapon for our village. This seed, this bed of mist we call home… it needs this Hijutsu, and it needs our clan. I have sworn to protect Kirigakure with my life, time and time and time again, and I will not rob my home of such loyalty. That is why… my kids, and your kids, and the kids of our brothers and sisters, and the kids of the future… they must live. Live, grow, strengthen in numbers, and… one day, be proud of the clan as any clan should be.”

This could not be realized without bloodshed. That was a viable answer from Shizuka… he could see what she was pointing at now.

"If they aim to stop me, I will remind them of the great shinobi that Kirigakure has raised. Do you have any more questions?”

[Shouki Shizuka]

Regret is not part of Shizuka's way of life. Neither is carelessness, and Shizuka's provocation - while reckless - was calculated. She needed to know Kumori's motivation for training her. If it was a matter of controlling her, of putting her in her place, she would learn. Her bruises and injuries would be proof enough to show her mother they needed to leave the clan behind. They would not be safe from reprisal within the village, but in the end, they were both Kiri-nin. The Shouki clan could not easily kidnap them without facing repercussions from the Kage. Regardless, it was not in Shizuka's plans for Kumori to be a genuine teacher, much less an ally. When he released his peerless chakras, she was ready for the worst.

Kumori's power washed over Shizuka like a flood. The fog - even the darkness - gave way before its might. Shizuka was no better. Her feet, unbidden, fell back a step, her grip on her knife tightened. And Kumori's chakra hissed, the crackling of rain falling into fire - the death knell of the Heavenly Miasma. It took all of Shizuka's concentration not to rush forward - screaming desperate murder - every sense transfixed and focused on the force of nature before her.

"Death means nothing if the clan ceases to exist." Kumori intoned.

He produced a scroll, handing it to Shizuka, then continued. "Death erases strength. What power does a corpse have, Shizuka?" Then, finally, he sighed and calmed his killing intent. Shizuka found herself doing the same, unable to resist the now gentle tide of Kumori's spirit. She noticed the warmth and relief of dawn, bathing the hillside in light. For a moment, Kumori's display had parted the fog, allowing them a rare view of the land shrouded in mist during sunrise. Endless rivers of silver mist, crisscrossed by shadows, broken in places by a tall stubborn stone or proud tree. Then the moment passed, and the mist enclosed them again.

When Shizuka listened to the rest of Kumori's words, and read the scroll, she understood his true intentions. To perfect the Dokuyoke. To allow any child to survive the thousand trials of death. She was shocked. Kumori was an elder - and so much more. He was the unshakeable pillar of the clan. He was the evidence the Dokuyoke was already perfect. He was the master of fate, who judged matters of life and death. He was the source of the decay, the corpse whose smoke and ash would signal the end of everything. Yet, did he grieve for the things that were sacrificed? Did he dream of etching tallies into the crematorium? Shizuka was not sure. She felt mostly confusion, for now, though her question asked itself.

"Why me? Why not someone better, with more control, who knows the Dokuyoke...?"

It answered itself, too. Shizuka realized as the question passed her lips exactly the sort of clan member who would be able to assist Kumori. The ritual masters. But they were slavishly dedicated to death - he probably hadn't asked them for assistance at all. If he tried, they would have certainly refused. And as for everyone else... the rites of the Dokuyoke were the most closely guarded secrets of all. Learning them when you were neither an elder, nor a ritual master, was punished by death.

All of a sudden, Shizuka began to laugh, her understanding sharpening. Of all the members of the Shouki clan, she was the only one Kumori could turn to. Her potential to control chakra was far greater than Kumori's if she trained. Plus, she had already studied a great deal of Fuinjutsu, which was a central aspect of the Dokuyoke. She even apprenticed under a former ritual master, which meant on this front she may already have surpassed him. Medical knowledge was fundamental as well, and while Shizuka was lacking in this field, her Jounin sensei - Shimizu Asuka - was not. If anyone in the world had the ability to perfect the Dokuyoke, it was him. But he and Kumori would not be able to work together. Asuka had the ability to combat the clan's poisons, and was one of their greatest potential enemies. If an elder - even Kumori - was seen on friendly terms with such a figure, they would lose face, and be forced to resign. But Shizuka could work with Asuka, secretly. After all, he was her sensei now.

But these reasons, Shizuka felt, were not most important. The most important reason Kumori needed her was very simple. She had proven herself capable of it twice already. Her thoughts were filled with it, and for nearly two years it motivated her to grow as a shinobi. Rebellion - treason. The Dokuyoke was forbidden knowledge, and anyone who intended to assist Kumori would risk death by studying it. Of all the members of the clan, Shizuka alone had proven her disloyalty. Thus, she was indispensable to Kumori's ambitions. And she laughed at the thought.

Kumori was a pitiful creature. His grandest ambition, the tremendous culmination of his life's work - and it all depended on the whims of a rebellious teenage girl. When she had finished laughing, she stood and smiled with confidence and poise, one hand on her hips and the other pocketing Kumori's scroll. If he had complaints, she ignored them.

"I'll do it. I'll perfect the Dokuyoke." She grasped her headband, which hung from her neck like a scarf. "I swear on my pride as a kunoichi of Kirigakure. I swear upon my mother's soul, and my father's ashes. I will not allow even a single sacrifice to the Dokuyoke go unchallenged from this moment forward. Until I conquer death or death conquers me." There was a clarity in Shizuka's voice. Her fear and unease were nearly entirely dispelled.

"But I have a condition. No secrets, and no half measures. I need everything. Everything related to the Dokuyoke. In writing."

[Shouki Kumori]

Entrusting a child with such knowledge… the burden it’d leave on their shoulders, and the worries that’d wash over them. Kumori had thought that Shizuka acted rather… self-sustaining and independent in some sense. She was definitely no child, as much as he’d love to smear that title all over her rebellious face. Old geezers and their jokes were such a constant…

She asked a genuine question – why her? Why her? Her previous actions didn’t exactly install confidence in any cooperation from her. In all honesty… it was likely a whim. She was a young kunoichi from the Shouki clan, alive and well, and that alone meant she’d survived what hundreds had died by. But… she was also outside of many walls that the clan had held up. She-

… Why was she laughing?

Remaining awkwardly silent, Kumori heard her reply – surprisingly… direct. She was in. Perhaps she, too, had enough of stagnant passage of time, the absence of evolution for the better of the whole – as any clan should always strive for. Kumori didn’t believe in the perfect, he believed in the better.

"… You have my word,” Kumori promised, "I’ll prepare all the documents, but after they’re in your possession, proceed with the upmost caution. Now, back to your practice – a serpentine gas form, this time.”

[Shouki Shizuka]

He agreed just like that?

Shizuka was surprised at Kumori's quick acceptance. She figured he would refuse, offering some weak excuse that she 'wasn't ready.' He clearly had his own plans for her, though it wasn't clear what they were in detail. Perhaps he had always intended to share everything from the beginning. Regardless, Shizuka was satisfied Kumori was at least willing to risk his reputation. If his words were serious, he would have to give up the clan secrets eventually. Better sooner than never.

Before anything, Shizuka had to finish training. Kumori asked for her to mold her poison breath into a specific form. She remembered, years ago, a demonstration of the technique he was requesting. The clan senior who performed it was so efficient in his control, he could produce half a dozen threads of gas, each long enough to cross the room. She didn't have the faintest clue how to use it herself.

She started her attempt the same as before, slowly, deliberately drawing up her poison beside her chakra. She used more this time, and the greater volume of gas made her uncomfortable. When she released her breath, the cloud escaped. It was a serviceable size, somewhat larger than herself - though she could only stare at it in confusion as it began to disperse. Controlling the cloud required the poison to be trapped within a vessel made of chakra. Shizuka had missed the step entirely, so the gases could not be controlled.

"I don't understand," she said quietly, "it's not working. How am I meant to control anything once it's already been released?"

[Shouki Kumori]

Not many people knew Kumori.

I mean, it was strange to be in the company of an elder Shouki clan member so… tame? In spite of his strength, Kumori was approachable and generous to those who wished to learn from him, and his discipline and exemplary actions were proud banners raised on his back. The clan’s darkness, as some would call it, didn’t affect him anymore… nay, it once did. He remembered those days clearly – quiet, quiet days of his, a youth robbed of warmth and light, the only embrace he felt was the cold steel of weapons tied to his skin. There were times when he felt like crying, but shinobis don’t cry… they never do.

His… reputation be damned. He was one foot in the grave, likely. Some still remembered the supposed ‘fiasco’ of the Second or Third Great Ninja War, the return of the Hunter-nin and other Kiri-nin who were secretly sent to stir up conflicts in the rest of the ninja world in his teenage years. He came back not a hero, but as a barbarian… so his reputation be damned, really.

Was it too much to ask for a clan to be proud of? A village to admire? A future brighter than now? Was it too much to ask for a better Shouki? A stronger venom? A stronger… people?

…

"You lost the thread,” Kumori quickly answered her question, being quite literal in his saying, "Chakra is released from the right spot, I see that… but the thread must be intact. A thread between your maw and the serpent’s tail – a sort of rudder of chakra. It’ll be a very visible thread at first, but try to keep your mouth and throat connected to the gas you release.”

"All Jutsus malleable are connected to the caster – even larger ones such as Kumori-kun’s favorite Suiryūdan no Jutsu. It may not appear so to the naked eye, but chakra is naturally invisible – it’s still there, binding the Jutsu and the caster of the Jutsu whenever they’re launched. You can try with a visible chakra line for now, but the more adept you become at using the Jutsu, the smaller… and fainter… the thread shall be,” Ima dove deeper into the logic behind how to control a Jutsu of that nature. A direct, linear projectile Jutsu wouldn’t need such a step, but a Jutsu that could slither around and move at the user’s whim… required a chakra rudder in the form of a line. A snare. A thread.

[Shouki Shizuka]

A thread... or a net.

Shizuka could make a net with her chakra. It would have to be a net with no openings, but she could manage that. Then, contain her poison within and manipulate it as she willed. She could start the construction of the net within her mouth, and allow it to expand as she expelled the poisonous gas. The principle was simple enough, though she knew mastery would require a lifetime of practice.

Her attempt began as usual - a deliberate build up of poison within her. Slowly, she exhaled, framing a globe of poison within a shimmering veil of cyan chakra. The threadbare net collapsed as quickly as it formed, spewing tendrils of gas from half a dozen openings. Shizuka flinched, showing her frustration over her second failure.

Tch. It broke? My chakra doesn't break.

Then, she did something unexpected. She wove three handseals - a combination unfamiliar to Kumori, who knew every one of the clan's techniques. This time she was quick, her motions fluid, well practiced. When she thrust her arms forward, Kumori recognized the jutsu - Kaiten Shuriken - a wind release technique which allowed the user to alter the trajectory of a projectile in flight. Only now, she adapted it to use the methods of the clan. Cyan strings of chakra - stronger this time - formed a net around the same cloud of poison she had lost control of a moment before.

What Shizuka had attempted was not a jutsu developed by the clan. It was original. There was no technique within the Shouki doctrine which called for controlling a cloud of poison already present on the battlefield. If you wanted to use a jutsu such as the one Kumori was training Shizuka for, you would summon forth new poison - not recycle a cloud already present. But the idea had merit. And new ideas within the Shouki clan were rare.

Shizuka struggled with her improvised technique. She had managed, with her powers of concentration, to wrangle some measure of control over a strangely deformed orb of poisonous gas. She attempted to compress it, to solidify the gas into a deadly blade. Slowly, the orb was molded into a cylinder, bubbling with greater tension than a coiled snake. She lost control. With a crack, her net of chakra broke at it's weakest point, shooting the poisonous club like a firework to the side. Directly where Kumori stood.