[Senju Kazuto]

Silence was broken, as he would take his steps through the path. The crunch of pebbles, gravel and fallen leaves under autumn's chill beneath his boot. The Senju felt a sense of anticipation, a sense of guilt perhaps. He count the many times that he had come to this shrine with the fingers of one hand and still some left to spare. In truth, he had never been the most devout to any deity and as he climb the steps towards the torii gate he wondered if the gods this shrine had been dedicated too were angry with him? Perhaps that had been the reason why he had chosen to come alone, without a guard to show that placed himself under the care of said deities and that he had discarded the formal robes that befitted his status as Head of the Clan, as a sign of humility. He supposed that was a way to see it. But as the Senju crossed the threshold and saw the neatly kept shrine and its building he would stop, catching the serene atmosphere of the sacred ground, the scents of the season and of wild flowers still clinging to life. It was, much better than what he had remembered and a small smile appeared on his lips at that. In truth, he was here not out of fear that gods would smite him in reprisal for not directing all his prayers towards them. But simply to meet someone he had not met before. As his hand traced through the aged bark of a rather large tree that seemed recently planted, enough for him to turn his gaze and look at it, trying to think on the name of the species but finding himself unable to find it, he turned once more towards the shrine, at least the living quarters of it. "Hello?" He asked, breaking the silence once more. "Anyone here?"

-tag- senju rinka -words- 328 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: The exterior of the shrine was typical for its ilk, if smaller in scope: just past the lone torii was the chozuya, where supplicants were expected to purify themselves and offer ablutions, beyond which lay neat rows of rich red wood koma-inu. Instead of the stone and hewn wood typical of most Shinto shrines, nearly every part of this place of worship had been crafted of Mokuton constructions, a design element that would be clear to the keen eye of the Senju clan head. The sacred forest that flanked the shrine was modest in scope, given its adjacency to the more urban population of the Hidden Village, but the density and sheer size of the trees that enshrouded the shrine gave it an aura of isolation and serenity difficult to capture in such a bustling hub. "Nobody here but us chickens," Rinka replied to her guest. Her creamy white dress and pale hair disguised her against the rows and rows of omikuji tied to a high fence, fingers grazing over the paper as she evenly spaced them out, checking the quantity. It would be time to burn them soon. A pair of small fox kits ran in circles around her feet, wrestling and biting each others' ears. "Or... foxes, I suppose, though I believe these two are responsible for my missing hens, so the chickens are still with us, in a way." Rinka carefully extracted herself from the fierce battle happening at her feet and turned to greet the visitor properly with a warm smile. "I don't believe you've had cause to visit the shrine before," she said. "How can I help you?" Senju Kazuto -- 273

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

Kazuto turned sharply at the voice that greeted him, almost as if he had been startled and had convinced himself that there wasn't anyone around at all. His eyes widened slightly as the woman that stepped froward from the rows upon rows of scripts. Ignoring the shame of being surprised he blinked at his guest. In truth he hadn't had the pleasure to meet her before, even when tales of her skills and exploits had reached his ears and by that merit alone he could call her a kin of his, but if he didn't know better, he would've thought that Rinka was a spirit from the forest or of nature itself even. There was a warmth about her, even as she deftly moves away from the fighting kits around her feet. Whatever tension existed in him, faded as she would turn to greet and him, showing him the kindness of a warm smile as the question of why he was here was posed. He remained silent as he pondered his response. Talk to her of course, but other than that he felt out of place in this sacred place as he was never been known to be a spiritual beaing. "I..." He said, his words trailing for a second. "I guess I've come to meet with you." He said, looking at the soil of this sacred patch of forest. "Truth of the matter is that I have been for this time, a leader of our clan in name only. And I haven't gotten to know my people beyond those that are a close kin to me." Kazuto said, feeling as remorse and shame for that inaction had tinged his rulership of the clan. "We are not united as we should be and if the beating heart of this village is divided, then the village itself is at risk." He added.

-tag- senju rinka -words- 321 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: "There are thousands of shinobi in the Hidden Leaf,” Rinka said mildly, "and I don’t truthfully know how many Senju are of that number, but I would hazard to guess there are more than most people would be able to remember by name. The village is not at risk due to your humanity.” She gestured for Kazuto to follow, and led the way not towards the heart of the shrine but back to the Torii gate, to the chozuya. The fox kits tumbled in the dirt and scrambled over themselves to follow at her heels, prancing like obedient showdogs. "Praying once will not make you a holy man, if you’re concerned,” she said, a glint of humor in her eye, "but it’s generally good form to pay respects to the gods when you step into their home.” Rinka began with her own ablutions, lifting a ladle full of water to wash one hand, then the other, and then her mouth, the water as crisp and pure and cold as if it had been freshly drawn from a mountain spring. She turned the stem of the ladle for Kazuto to use in turn. "Is there a particular reason why you wanted to meet with me?” she asked, her head tilting just so to the side. "I didn’t think I had enough of a reputation, good or ill, to warrant needing to put a face to the name.” Senju Kazuto -- 238

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

Kazuto listened to the priestess attentively. Following her along with the two kits that had appeared alongside Rinka, imitating the same process of ritual of ablution that Rinka had showed him, sensing some relieve at the act and that he hadn't bursted in flames due the machinations of any wrathful deity. As he placed the laddle on its place, he turned to look at Rinka as she posed the question of why he was here? "Meeting your kin is a good reason as any, I trust?" He said, faintly smiling at her. "And I disagree with you about your reputation." Kazuto mused as his eyes would drift to the sacred forest that surrounded them, the sounds that he would recognize with the forest making him forget that they were inside the village, and yet, it seemed that the bustling sounds of civilitations didn't penetrate. "It is well earned. But if you require any further reason, in the past it was tradition for the head of the clan to ask the priest in charge of the shrine for their opinion. So, I've come to ask for your opinion." He said as the faint smile returned and the the battle the two kits had spilled down to his feet, looking like a dash of red fur that tried to playfully bit each other. "Rambuncious pair, aren't they?" He said as he watched the two kits continuing their battle around him, finding them familiar but deciding not to ask about them. "Of course, this is your domain and if you're occupied right now, I don't wish to intrude on the ministrations of your duties." He said, giving her an understanding look, as he considered himself merely his guest and not an authority over her due his station.

-tag- senju rinka -words- 304 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: "A better reason than most,” Rinka replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling. To his estimation of her worthiness she said nothing; only offered a faint tilt of her head, the spark of curiosity in her eye betraying the machinations of the cogs turning in her mind. One of the kits yelped, a telltale sign of a playfight taken a nip too far, and Rinka paused for a moment to crouch down and fix the foxes with a stern gaze. "Be kind,” she said, "and you’ll always have someone to play with.” Knowing eyes slid over to the second fox. "If you exaggerate your pain, it will be challenging to know when you’ve taken on too much to bear.” Chastened, the foxes darted off into the woods to resume their tumbling away from disciplinary eyes. "There’s nothing that can’t wait,” Rinka said gently. She led the way down the path and off to the side before crossing through the oratory, to the administrative office; through a few doors and into her own quarters, a humble little space that was her home away from home. She put a kettle on for tea. "Visitors tie omikuji to the fence when they wish to stave off a bad fortune,” she said as she measured out tea leaves. "And when they wish to empower a good fortune. When I’ve more than normal to burn, I can’t help but wonder which is in greater supply. It’s impossible to tell, in the end.” She glanced over her shoulder, keen evaluation in her eye: an attempt to divine how a man takes his tea. "All fortunes are neutral, I think. A prayer reveals more about the supplicant than the god.” When she offered Kazuto tea it was plain, fragrant, and strong: a blend of green leaves with a distinctly floral aroma. Her own was milky-sweet, vanilla and jasmine. "Was that the opinion you wanted? I’ve more, if you like.” Senju Kazuto -- 322

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

Kazuto followed the woman into the inner sanctum of the temple, his eyes narrowing after she had spoke to the kits that had scurried away to continue their playful battle, mesmerized by the way she acted and the she spoke. In his lifetime he had seen and met many self proclaimed mystics, many that used the guise of spiritualism as a persona rather than their real self. He wasn't sure this was the case with her. In fact, he would say that the way she acted, her choice of actions and words was completely born of who she was. The inside of the temple did surprise him. More mundane that what he had expected. Less than the abode of a priestess and more in line with an office than an impresario would call as their place of work. As she would stop and make tea, his kin spoke once more, his eyes never leaving her form as she moved on the tasks of preparing the beverage for both of them. Taking his he would look at the light green liquid, his eyes wavering slightly at the question of whether or not this was the opinion he had wanted, taking a moment to consider what she had said about a prayer revealing more about the supplicant than the deity. With a quick sip, he tasted the blend, detecting the notes of plain camellia, not yet fallen to oxidation, a few tones of sweetness escaping the bitterness of the blend as he nodded. "Thank you, this is good." Kazuto said, after taking yet another sip. "No, although I appreciate that insight, that wasn't the opinion that I was looking for." He said gently, taking another sip before he cleared his throat."I'm honestly not sure if I want reassurance that, what direction I want the clan to take is the correct one." He told her as his eyes drifted to the contents of the cup in his hand. "What would reveal about me I what I prayed for was for the strife within our kin and the other clans to be put aside?" He asked her in a serious tone.

-tag- senju rinka -words- 368 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: Rinka beamed, pleased beyond measure that she’d made his tea well enough. They sat at a small kitchen table, the furniture wooden and strong, clearly constructions of Senju make—presumably her own. The tone shifted to more serious matters. Rinka leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, delicate fingertips tracing the rim of her teacup. She looked where Kazuto looked, following the line of his gaze to his pale green tea, the faint wisps of steam that rose from its surface. "That you have a father’s heart,” Rinka said, after a moment’s consideration, "and that you care more for the stability of the future than the injustices of the past.” She gave him a moment to think on this, and drank from her cup. A curious expression passed over her face: the resurfacing of an old wound, perhaps, or the swell of a grief long since compartmentalized. It was there and then gone, the briefest flash of humanity beneath the presentation. "If all fortunes are neutral, then I think all choices are neutral as well,” Rinka continued. "Every action has a reaction, and every choice has a consequence. If you’ve mapped the potential consequences of your choices and content with what you can survey, then that is enough.” Senju Kazuto -- 208

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

He stopped as he heard her words. The cup in his hand steaming as his tried to fully understand what she had said. Kazuto's sight returned to the still teaming tea, a brief smile appearing on his lips as he accepted the compliment implicit in her considerations about him. Since he had reached adulthood, since he had even met his father, he had tried his path away from being a Shinobi to be just far better than that of his sire. For all the repute that his father had garnered, for all the might he had possessed before infirmity had struck him and wither him away until death had come for him, he had become content with his station, able to master many things but never himself. Kazuto was glad to have prove himself the opposite to his father in that regard. As Kazuto would turn to face Rinka again, he noticed a strange shift on her features after she had mentioned that about his heart being that of a father. A strange expression that he couldn't really put his finger on. Almost as if the mention of something relating to family had been as uncomfortable as an old injury during a cold, stormy night. Clearing his throat, he would speak once more. "I'm not sure if I have map consequences for the choices I would like to make for the future of the clan, for the village or for my own family." He said, having an idea of how move forward but taking a measured step at it. "And, I care about the mistakes of the past. The errors of my father while not my own, I have tried to mend." He said, bitterly at the fact that his two younger brothers had inherited their father negative perception, even to the point that they were unable to find a common ground to grieve for their sister's death, not even tend to their mother when Tsuume had died. The woman wasn't fond of him and in truth, he couldn't say that he would've been comfortable forming a bond with her, but even so he made sure she was taken care off and lived with the Senju clan as long as she wished for. "I sincerely hope that our kin that still see me as an usurper, understand my motives to initiate change."

-tag- senju rinka -words- 402 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: "Caring more about one thing does not eradicate your care for another,” Rinka replied—a gentle yet firm redirection of the path his thoughts seemed to be taking. "Do you care less for your wife, now that your daughter is born? Does making a new friend lessen your affection for those from your childhood? We all must make choices as to where we focus our energy—it is a good thing that you care about the past still. It informs your perspective, allows you to make wiser choices. That you focus on the present and future is better still. The power to move forward is often an underestimated one.” She held firm, unyielding eye contact with Kazuto: her focus was entirely present, entirely on him, this room, their tea, a quiet conversation. All else was left behind. "I can’t say that I truly understand those who see you as a usurper, but I’m still something of a newcomer to Senju politics,” Rinka said, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. "If you express your plans and desires plainly, then there is no room for misunderstanding. Any who claim to doubt your motives can rest in the knowledge that it is their own anxieties that seed their doubt—or that they are just disagreeing because they disagree. It is, ultimately, their tension to resolve.” Senju Kazuto -- 227

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

Kazuto pondered on her words and the fact that she knew little about him and his past. As her glare remained on him, unwavering, he would close his eyes briefly, deciding that the priestess might as well learn the origin from him. A smile settled on him, wry and bitter as he deviated his sight and looked at his partial reflection on the tea, finding amusement on how much he used to hate that there was more of his father in him than there is twin siblings. Tsuume had been the other one that favored the look of their father and thinking of his sister made him close his eyes once more as his expression grieved slightly. "Much like yourself, when I was born, I didn't bear the name of our clan." Kazuto said softly. "I didn't know who my father was until I showed the signs of our gifts and when they had manifested I met him. He called me, a mistake." The Senju said quietly, feeling his mouth dry, taking a sip of the tea and finding the blend oddly bitter this time and lukewarm. "My two brothers, the twins, they... proved a disappointment to him and he groomed my sister as his successor. Until she died in the exams. Then the wheel turned to me and he legitimized me." To say that his two brothers took that as a slight, was an understatement and they had taken their chances to challenge his rule of the clan. "In truth, Rinka." He said as he lowered his sight from her and into the floor as if the worn planks had the answers for his predicament or held the words that he needed to say. "Even though I have come to terms that not everyone will accept me, that my brother resent me for a choice our father, I keep their best interest in mind." He returned his sight towards the priestess, wondering what she would make out of what he had said.

-tag- senju rinka -words- 343 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: Tragedy layered on tragedy—absence, neglect, resentment, all carefully built on the grim foundation of the death of a bright young woman who was, it seemed, dearly loved. Rinka placed her cup on the table and stood, gliding from her position opposite Kazuto to instead sit next to him, close enough to bump hips. She was shorter than him, but not by much, and it was a simple thing to lift her arm—telegraph her movements, give him a chance to accept or decline—and wrap it around his shoulders, running her heavily-jeweled hand over his back in firm, soothing circles. "I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. The simple act of allowing oneself to grieve was so often forgotten in the midst of so many other daily injustices; she wondered how much the family had allowed themselves to truly mourn their dearly departed, in the wake of the fighting that followed. "It is clear to me that she was loved—and that you honor her memory by acting with the clan’s best interests in mind, despite the wrongs that were done to you. You are not, and have never been, a mistake. You are doing the best you can with the cards that the gods have dealt you, and you have made an admirable showing of that effort. The criticism that your brothers and father lay upon you is more a reflection of their character, not yours.” Senju Kazuto -- 234

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

Kazuto watched the priestess move, his expression changing from the tinging of sadness his tale had told him and to the surprise of seeing her sit next to him and offer an embrace. The Senju looked at her perplexed, unsure on how to react but ultimately he returned the embrace and doing it so in an awkward manner at that, not because he was unused to embrace of close ones, after all he shared these moments with people close to his heart, but rather of doing it so with someone he didn't know but she had showed him kindness that not many of her kin had. Specially of something that he had spoke very little to only perhaps Miho, the other person he had told this had taken the secret to his death and there was something freeing to release that grief. As he buried his face on her shoulder, he noticed the scent of poppies, roses, smoke and oud that reminded him of hearth and home. The embrace felt familiar and as he heard his worlds and they separated, he allowed himself a moment to release a short sigh, not of exasperation but of relief. "Thank you." Kazuto croaked quietly, leveling his glare at the worn out floor. He had heard these words of reaffirmation from his wife, from his grandmother and his sister, but every time he heard them, they always had the same effect in him. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand he would reach for his tea, now more lukewarm. "That means a lot, Rinka." He allowed himself to say. He wasn't sure if these were the answers he was looking for, but at the very least he felt more at ease than when he had come to the temple. "I just hope Tsuume would be proud with what I've been doing for the clan."

-tag- senju rinka -words- 322 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: "Of course,” Rinka said softly, a gentle reply to his unnecessary thanks. She continued rubbing his back gently, a small effort to soothe him in this moment of weighty emotion; it was no easy thing, to come forward with such stark vulnerability. "Thank you for sharing these things with me. If it is of any comfort, my door is always open—you need only ask, and I will be there.” She could not speak for the dead; she did not know their secrets. But still she said, "I didn’t know Tsuume, but I think any sister would be proud to see what you’ve accomplished.” Rinka smiled, and shifted away, her gaze sliding to the door that led to the temple beyond. "I’ve little contact with my siblings these days, but I’m always glad to hear of what they’ve accomplished, even though I cannot be there to witness it.” It was rare for Rinka to speak of her birth family; as much as possible, her past was shrouded in mystery, as if she had stepped off the pages of a storybook and simply ended up in Konohagakure one day. Kazuto, if anyone, would be one of the few to know of her inelegant origins, and the vulnerability that he had allowed himself to display needed to be repaid in kind—at least, as much as Rinka was able. "Would you like to pray with me?” she asked. "Perhaps the gods will have some further guidance to offer, if you ask nicely.” Senju Kazuto -- 248

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Senju Kazuto]

The Senju eased his breat, feeling Rinka's hand rubbing his back in a gesture that he could only qualified it as motherly, or at the very least befitting of an elder sibling. Her words being just the right blend of kind and reassuring as she would step away from the bench they had sat on. In many ways she would seem to him like an apparition were it not for the fact of the physical presence she had. He would rise after her, listening to the words that the woman gave him about his sister and he was reminded of the letter that Tsuume had written to him many years ago. As he followed her, he reflected on the reaffirmation that if his sister were alive, she would be proud of what he had managed to achieve. He didn't often dwell on what could have been, but he allowed himself a momentary smile at the thought of his youngest sibling approving of his ideas, even when some seemed to move away from the more dogmatic and traditionalist views of the clan. But he also allowed himself to feel some sorrow for Rinka's sake, feeling the kinship of really not having much connection with a sibling. As they left her personal space in the temple, the offer to pray took him by surprise. "I would love to, but..." He said with some shame of his own. "Can't say I have prayed much in my life. At least not in a way that would be deemed acceptable in accordance to religious rites." Kazuto admitted. He had prayed for a scant few things, for the wellbeing of people he cared for, for his children and wife during childbirth, but he had kept those prayers to himself, never speaking them but merely closing his eyes and nodding and hoping that whatever deity that listened to him had heard his wishes.

-tag- senju rinka -words- 326 -notes- --- -music- ---

MADE BY VEL OF GS