[Shindera Mori]

Even outside of the Forest of Bewilderment, Mori no Kuni was a maze masquerading as a nation state. Thick woods seemed to have enveloped the entire country, and were it not for what felt like a lifetime of experience travelling both as an ANBU operative and a fugitive, Mori was certain that he would have gotten lost within its expanse. That thought tweaked a small smile on his face, a name shared with the land within which he found himself. He’d been to this land once before, what must have been near-to-half-a-decade ago, but much had changed since then. The ashen tattoo on his shoulder blade served as a permanent reminder of that. Shindera Mori was no longer merely a man on the run, no longer just a criminal playing at philosopher. No, he was a proselytiser, chief among them for the cult which he found himself a member of. Swearing loyalty to an organisation, one that seemed fit to dominate the world, was not how he saw his future. Yet, convenience and need made for strange bedfellows. Destruction and death were needed for a great reset, so what if he needed to sell his soul to a megalomaniac to achieve that. He was but one man. The world was greater than he. So, with his initiation finalised, and his brethren in religion assaulting his homeland, he had taken his leave. The darkened roads upon which he had once predated would now render prey of a much different kind. Not the weak-willed and weak-bodied, although they could still be killed to satiate his need for the material. Their goods liberated to his own pockets. But those who saw the world in the way that he did. Shindera Mori wandered that dark, forested track, rough spun wool draping him such that he appeared partway monk, partway forester. An apt fit.

tokonatsu yukari

[tokonatsu yukari]

Some found it difficult to be so far from home. There was, in the back of Yukari’s mind, the constant background thought of Touwa—what he was doing, how he was faring in his training, if she would return to Takigakure to news that her son had been killed while she was gone. Somewhat less prescient: the fear that she would return to an empty home and divorce papers, her implicit separation from her husband transformed into the explicit, her absence cementing Tadashi’s hatred of her and steeling his resolve. Equal to her fear was the pure, simplistic satisfaction she gathered from existing alone in Nature. The hostile environs of Bonchi no Kuni were nightmarish compared to the thick, misty woodland of Mori no Kuni; she was here for only two weeks, conducting research on Ruto’s paroled behalf, but as the days slipped by and her return date loomed ever closer, Yukari was overwhelmed by the feeling that she could simply… stay. She wouldn’t. Ruto needed her; she wouldn’t abandon them. But she wondered, most nights, if this was what they had felt when they abandoned her—fear and distaste for the life they left behind, love and longing for the purity of an existence in a world untainted by human destruction. Yukari traveled from one small town to the next, administering medical aid to those who needed it and could not afford it, collecting samples of bodily fluids as her only recompense. She was clearly demarcated as both a shinobi of Takigakure and a medic: there was no question as to her identity, as she had learned from Ruto that fostering a reputation of charity and goodwill was crucial to thorough research. The road between towns was long and lonely, but the quiet soothed her, and even Kyuusai was quiet for once, pleased with their joint activities and Yukari’s comparatively good mood. They passed a stranger on the road, a traveling monk of some flavor. Yukari nodded briefly in greeting; then, after a moment’s hesitation, paused. "How far to the next town?” she asked. Her tone was neutral, neither impolite nor overtly friendly. She had been walking for hours, and based on the directions she’d been given she thought she would have arrived already, or at least seen some signage. "I’m en route from Kurashiki to Okayama.”

Shindera Mori -- 391

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

Strangers on the road were not a common sight in this part of Mori no Kuni, Mori had learned that relatively quickly into his travels. Rarer still were those who bore the mark of shinobi, let alone that of Takigakure. Yet, such was the individual whom he met. The nodded greeting to him was polite enough, and Mori returned it in kind. He knew a look of weariness and determination when he saw it, one set on their path, looking forth to the journey that lay before their feet. While he had every intention of spreading the word of his newfound religion, he knew better than to accost a lone shinobi in a foreign land. Non-skilled ninja were not sent abroad alone. Picking fights was his talent, entrapment, ambush, the art of subtlety. He did not see the need to endanger himself by revealing his identity. Yet, words were shared. A pause, then a simple question. How far to the next town?. Mori paused his steps, feet idling and settling soundly on the path beneath them. "A few hours walk more,” He answered, after a moment’s thought. Something about the forest had seen the villages interspersed in a way that travelling between them mightily inconvenient. On more than a few occasions since his arrival in the country had he slept rough shot by the road, "It’s not a difficult walk by any means, at least not by the standards of this land, but I daresay you are about halfway to your destination.” A small smile touched his lips, "Of course, you’d be more familiar with forested lands than I.” He tapped his head thoughtfully, "Takigakure, no?” Mori feigned embarrassment, "Apologies, I do not wish to pry. It has been quite some time since I have had an opportunity to have a proper conversation. Yes, you should find yourself there shortly after nightfall at a walking pace. Although their inn is rather lacking, truth be told.”

tokonatsu yukari

[tokonatsu yukari]

Only halfway. A thin sigh escaped Yukari’s lips as she considered the task before her; time was of the essence, given the timeframe in which she was expected back in Bonchi no Kuni, but she had little to no desire to travel through foreign woods after nightfall. It was an unnecessary risk. Her own safety was of less concern than ensuring that her collected samples remained undamaged, and though she had them safely sealed away for the time being, any encounter bore the risk of destruction. The stranger was polite but not overly familiar. Though Yukari was suspicious by nature, the peace of her surroundings had set her mind to quiet, and the paranoia that might normally shred her opinion of this man before it had time to form was nowhere to be found. To his question she inclined her head, acknowledging his observation of her hitai-ate and dismissing his apology in one motion. He was slim, scruffy but not unattractive; polite, open to conversation, and Yukari was more vulnerable to the affliction of loneliness than most. She could tolerate this, for a time. Kyuusai’s quiet approval made itself known in her mind. "Bonchi no Kuni is forested,” she allowed, "but there is none other like it in the world. Mori no Kuni is much the same, I’d wager. Nature has Her own designs, and the arrogance to assume familiarity with one ecosystem will spell death in another.” Yukari paused, glancing around. "I’ve no desire to risk the perils of dusk,” she said. "If I could impose, are you familiar with this road? Do you know of a place to make camp for the evening?”

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LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

The stranger spoke wisely, and Mori allowed himself to concede the point with a small smile, "Of course. Nature provides her blessings, each land is rithe with its own beauty and wants. I sometimes must remind myself I am not too dissimilar to a babe when it comes to lands such as this, while my home was within a forest, it hardly could constitute half the grand wooded area that constitutes this country.” It was the truth. Of course, he had spent much more of his life in Kumogakure proper and on the run in mountain paths than he had in the forest shrine that was his ancestral home. Yet, that did not make it any less of a truth. But nostalgic ramblings aside, Mori found himself taken back somewhat by the request from the shinobi. A place to camp, was she inviting him to share the warmth of her fire for the evening? How interesting. Still, even if she were not, he had a way of integrating himself with those who had other designs and plans. He’d travelled to spread the word, had he not? "I am somewhat familiar,” He answered, "I have been travelling in this country for sometime, taking in the sights and speaking to strangers on matters of philosophy and the natural state of the world.” A benign cover for his rather insidious desires in the nation of forests. "You are more than welcome to join me as I set up camp for this evening, there is a small clearing not far off from this path. A rather humble creek filters past and I had hoped to fill my canteen and brew a cup of tea.” "I would be more than willing to share the leaves and conversation,” Mori smiled softly, "I find that engaging in transfers of ideas is just as warming as any campfire.” Bait.

tokonatsu yukari

[tokonatsu yukari]

A natural philosopher. Men of his ilk were not uncommon amongst her people, particularly the fastidious, obsessive, intellectual personalities that made up the bones of the Tokonatsu clan. It was interesting to find someone so reasonable—so tolerable—so far afield. There was always the chance, of course, that philosophy did not turn his hand from violence, that she might lay her head down to rest and never wake to see the dawn. There was a certain thrill in that, but the truth was that the promise of good conversation was too tempting to decline, especially when she’d had little but Kyuusai’s thoughts and the moans and complaints of the sickly to keep her company for weeks on end. Yukari took the bait, quite content to be hooked. She returned the smile, slim and sharp, and inclined her head, a gesture for Mori to take the lead. "You may call me Yukari, if we’re to be spending the evening,” a delicate pause, "transferring ideas. Are you a proselytizer, or simply an academic studying beyond your homeland?” Religion was not foreign to her—her own reverence for the natural world was something akin to faith—but she thought it silly, more often than not, her scientist’s mind unwilling to put much stock into anything that could be not observed and tracked and neatly cataloged. But she was curious regardless; he certainly didn't have the demeanor of a hapless zealot.

Shindera Mori -- 219

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

A travelling proselytiser? The accusation saw Mori taken aback for a moment, his shoulders hunching slightly before he relaxed them, matching the ever lackadaisical smile upon his face. It was not an accusation, not in truth, just an observation, one that accompanied the remainder of her demeanour. She was curious, a soul questioning his presence in this foreign land, querying why he had taken to travelling so far afield from his homeland. Paranoia may have been his nature, but there was no need to feed it so. Feigning ignorance, he rubbed the back of his head, "What academic is not a proselytiser? There is not simple solution to any of the questions of the world, were I to bore you with my own worldview then no doubt you would consider me another man playing at prophet. No, no, I am am merely looking to expand my own understanding of the natural world. To debate ideas and beliefs, no?” It wasn’t a complete lie. No, he was hoping to discuss and explore the philosophy of this land. It was just that he had declared himself already. Declared himself to an ideal, to a belief, that mandated that the world be destroyed, burned to ashes in favour of the phoenix that would rise from its corpse. "Come,” He gestured, "We can discuss as we walk.” Thus, Mori stepped from the beaten path, toward the small campsite not far from where they had conversed. It was not a difficult walk, but it was deeper into the forests of the wilderness that surrounded them. "I do confess that I do have a set view of the world,” Mori spoke casually as they trekked, "One that views the unnatural limits that we set upon it as rather pointless and painful. But I shall not go further if you consider yourself more comfortable with doctrine and dogma. I am but a humble host, after all.”

tokonatsu yukari

[tokonatsu yukari]

Proselytizer had taken him aback, albeit briefly. Yukari wondered if she had caused offense, the question perhaps striking a little too close to home, but the tension in his shoulders eased almost as soon as it had come. A curious observation, a data point cataloged for future reference, but no conclusions to be drawn just yet. A lack of introduction did not escape her notice. "A fair point,” Yukari replied mildly, following along as he directed them off the well-worn road and into the thick wilderness. Soft earth sunk beneath the soles of her boots, crisp-cool air filling her lungs with the scent of alpine and growing things. Kyuusai was quiet in her mind, dozing, his skittering and anxious presence calmed by nourishing environs and sensible company. "Every researcher becomes a prophet of their own work, eventually.” Or of someone else’s, she thought, her mind wandering back to the long years of Ruto’s absence, the work she carried on in their name. Doctrine and dogma, he said. Yukari smiled wryly, deeply amused. "A poor tactic for an orator, to paint your audience as hapless sheep in a flock,” she said, though there was no malice in her tone. "Though I imagine it’s quite effective for most. Go on, then. You have my attention.” She paused here and there to take note of a blooming flower, an insect clinging to sturdy tree bark, to simply observe the winding route of a breeze through heavy branches and thick underbrush. Before long they were not in view of the road at all, and considering the nature of this nation’s forests perhaps that should have been a point of concern. She had little concept of where they were going and even less of how to return, but she was committed regardless, content to follow in the wake of her worse impulses.

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LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

"I meant no offence,” Mori offered immediately, the language of sheep having taken him somewhat aback. He had fallen into habit, using those same words and techniques that he had become accustomed to when speaking to the little folk, those who felt unempowered but maintained a healthy dose of rage against the system that kept them at bay. This stranger was not one of those people, he had to remind himself of that. Of course, she did more than a good enough job of reminding him of such herself. The witty way with which she responded to his banter, the ease with which she engaged him in conversation and held her own in this foreign land. There was danger about her, he needed to remember that. He also needed to remember to make it clear that he did not anticipate such danger from her. A balancing act, a tightrope upon which Mori needed to walk. As he considered such, the forest thickened, the trees and bushes imposing upon their party of two. Idly, he considered how often he had killed travellers in similar environs, in lands not quite so foreign. It was a morbid thought, be he examined it with a bored rationality. "I have become so accustomed to speaking to folk whom have never left their hometowns that I am afraid my tongue has become rather stuck in its ways,” He offered by means of apology, "It has been quite some time since I spoke to a fellow shinobi.” The first offering as to his identity, obvious bait. Mori knew that she would see through an attempt to portray it as an innocent slip of the tongue. A bread crumb leading to the truth. As he spoke, he stepped forth into the promised clearing. A rather small one, truth be told, but it at least held all that he promised. The small creek, the area upon which they could set up sleeping spots. A humble little holding in the wilds. "I shall not bother with boring small talk while we set up camp,” Mori smiled softly, "Let us converse as to more interesting topics. Pray tell, what do you know of the plague that hit Kumogakure?”

tokonatsu yukari /div]

[tokonatsu yukari]

"And none was taken,” came Yukari’s reply, which was the simple truth. His diction reminded her of how the Asagao of the Tokonatsu carried themselves. Careful, purposeful, designed to communicate specific ideas in effective forms; someone who considered their words carefully before they spoke. He relayed a tidbit of information, presumably by way of apology for the transgression, and Yukari’s eyebrows raised. A fellow shinobi, but his village affiliation was not clear—perhaps from a minor village of some backwater nation. Yukari and Ruto had often gone without displaying their affiliations when out conducting research for one reason or another, and she rarely inquired as to why, sensing instinctively when questions were better left unasked for everyone’s peace of mind. Curiosities on curiosities. "I’m not much of one, I’m afraid,” Yukari said, accepting the information as it was, trading a little in kind. "I am a medical professional first and foremost. Shinobi training was a formality at best.” True, to a degree. Ruto had taught her the importance of portraying humility when on these kinds of trips, explicitly displaying oneself as a source of aid, otherwise harmless and inoffensive. She was not wholly defenseless, but it was better to posit herself as a non-combatant, and lean on the sensibilities of those who respected the practice of humane warfare. Those individuals came few and far between, but still she tried. The clearing was small, intimate, but more than sufficient for their needs. The creek burbled peacefully nearby; wildflowers sprouted from the verdant grass, tiny winged insects clinging to soft white petals. Yukari was satisfied. As she busied herself with carefully removing her scrolls from her person, setting them down in such a way as to avoid disturbing the insect life and releasing the supplies held within, Yukari considered the question posed. "Little and less,” she replied. "I know it was bacterial in nature, and quite devastating before a cure was engineered.” She longed to get her hands on the research that produced the cure—it would be instrumental to Ruto’s own work—but the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. Her mind ardently refused to piece together any further context clues regarding the Plague’s origins. "Only hearsay communicated during the lockdown, and not much information came out after the fact. I’ve always wondered how the disease impacted the environment there.” A tilt of her head, her long pale hair falling loosely to the side as she laid out her gear, removed her flak jacket. "Why do you ask?” She spoke dispassionately, clinically; a medical professional, but the deaths of tens of thousands was merely a statistic, a point of curiosity to be explored.

Shindera Mori -- 416

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

Mori took to preparing the campsite with practised ease, leaf-litter and twigs were cleared away, his humble bedding, little more than well-tanned animal skin, was placed over it, before he made a small tent using other such leather. The result was a tent in name only, but it was warm, it would keep him dry, and when wrapped in furs and his travelling poncho then he needn’t worry about the chill. The actions took little time, and with it sorted, he took to preparing the firepit, his attention torn between the movement of his hands and his companion. She was enamoured with nature, that much had become clear. On more than a few occasions, he had caught her glancing at flowers or the insects that adorned them. A curious trait. Mori had a quiet appreciation for the beauty of the natural world, but his interests were always far more anthropological. Thoughts, concerns, observations, each was always turned toward his fellow man rather than the world that they inhabited. So it was that he noticed this peculiarity, and he filed it away. "Personal curiosity,” He responded simply, placing a series of rocks in a make-shift firebreak around where he intended to create the little campfire that would allow for the softening of travel tack and the brewing of tea, "It was something of an intellectual awakening, or I suppose you could say it challenged me philosophically, having lived through it.” It was all but an admission of his nation of origin. Mori’s eyes turned away from his task, and toward Yukari. She was fair, but there was something about her that set parts of Mori on edge. Her tone of voice, he reasoned after a moment. Each word was measured, the tone carried a careful neutrality, that of an observer describing what she witnessed with dispassionate ease. Ah, that was the approach. She cared for nature, she was an intellectual, the cards that he had been dealt became clearer in his mind. "I find that when people are challenged, put under pressure, they reveal their true nature,” He spoke pleasantly, "I believe that is the rationale behind the chunin exams, as silly as they are to think back on. But the plague, well, that provided a similar situation for an entire system. Nations are made up of people, each individual serving as a cell of the organism… And Kumogakure failed in response to the plague, its immune system buckled.” "A failure in how the organism was built, a flaw created where evolution was not allowed to take place. The artificiality of the village rendered it vulnerable to the most humble of living things, a bacteria.”

tokonatsu yukari

[tokonatsu yukari]

Yukari had manners enough to assist with the labor once she was shed of her own burdens, collecting water to boil from the burbling creek, gathering stones for the firepit and twigs with which to kindle the flame. Her own bedroll was simple but warm, though she had no tent to accompany it, something she seemed comparatively unconcerned about. She helped to make the firepit, assisting without interfering, the deft and natural maneuvers of a lifelong aide accustomed to negotiating around stronger personalities and more established habits. To Mori’s not-quite confession she only tilted her head in brief acknowledgement, the shape of the outline of his tale beginning to come into focus. She was not SHUKAN; the runaways of other nations were none of her concern. "An inevitable outcome,” Yukari said, carefully arranging dry, desiccated twigs for the firestarter. Even kneeling in the dirt she held herself gracefully, not a single movement of her body that was unconscious or uncontrolled. "Humans are beasts like any other. To think oneself beyond the reach of simple sickness is narcissism at its finest.” He spoke of artifice; the flaws and failures of the shinobi system. Uncommon for their ilk, who were so universally prone to ardent nationalism. "A failure of the village’s response, perhaps, but I doubt there is any structure that would have succeeded in its place,” she said. "Ecosystem homeostasis will always allow Nature to regain Her equilibrium. When the population of one species grows too great, She adapts, and re-balances over time. There is little anyone can do to stop it.” Beauty, pain, ascension. A creed she had taken to heart from an early age. "I apologize,” she said after a moment. "The deaths of your countrymen were needless, no doubt. I don’t mean to sound callous.” She stepped back from the pit; turned away from Mori, retrieving her rations and food pills from her little bundle of supplies. "Did you identify the failure point? The true nature of the village?”

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LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

"An inevitable outcome,” He responded to her inquiry with her own words. The fire now burning, he took to his pack, drawing out a package of tea leaves and cured meats. The latter would be boiled in water, softening and creating something resembling a stew. The former would serve as a means to wash down the rather tasteless dinner that he would create. It was a vice of his, he supposed, that he put so much of his focus on enjoying the trivialities of camp in tea. Others would carry more in the way of spices, would hunt for live game, and would create something far more hunger-quelling. He had no such desires. "It is as you said. The population grew too great, the cities became bastions of disease and death followed. The illness wiped them out, but even if it were the tool of another village, then they were doing the will of nature, as you said. Such an attack would not have succeeded were such gatherings not present, if people had not rushed to serve the Raikage and spread the illness.” There was something peculiar in the way that Yukari spoke. She spoke to nature and ecosystems with a certain dispassionate approach. He had said things that were rather controversial, to say the least, and she had responded in kind. It painted an image beyond that of a peculiar shinobi on the road, there was a tinge of misanthropy to her words. Were they both playing games? Baiting each other to reveal their true hands? It was not an unlikely outcome, but one that he still needed to be wary of. "Man was not built to be governed,” He stated simply, "Structures are artificial, nature shall always take what belongs to her in the end. We are but beasts, as you said. To argue otherwise is foolish, to pretend otherwise creates suffering.” "The failure point was the existence of the village at all.” His eyes flashed dangerously.

tokonatsu yukari

[tokonatsu yukari]

Her own words lobbed back at her, but there was no accusation within; only observation, as her observation had been. Callous, as she said, but it was the science of cause-and-effect so simple that even a child could understand it: a contagion like that of the Plague was perpetuated by close contact, and if insufficient care was taken to prevent close contact, then the contagion would rapidly spread. Once she had gathered her own supplies she settled in across the fire from Mori—sitting neat and refined, unnecessarily formal as she kneeled with her weight on her ankles and heels—and noted with some curiosity that while his rations seemed to be as simple and uninteresting as her own, he took particular care in preparing his tea. Such tenderness for so delicate a beverage, even as anarchist controversy spilled from his lips; it was a fascinating dichotomy. A shinobi runaway; an academic, if she chose to believe his portrayal of himself; but not a prophet, though he spoke as someone accustomed to orating. The sketch of his outline was beginning to take shape in her mind, though she was not as alarmed as she should have been, perhaps—one heard horror stories of nuke-nin who took unique pleasure in slaughtering those that still wore their hitai-ate, after all. There was a dangerous glint in his eye, but simultaneously he took care with his tea leaves, and that held greater weight in her mind. Even Kyuusai was quiet, peacefully observing with gentle curiosity. Yukari smiled. She was a long, long way from home, and the trees here did not listen in quite the same way. "An interesting perspective,” she allowed, "though I cannot agree that structures are artificial. Nature is not chaotic; She is the origin point of all structure. The fibrous root systems of the trees around us cluster and merge into dense networks that have supported each other for centuries. Many animal families operate within rigid hierarchies with regards to hunting and mating cycles. Humans are pack hunters, just as wolves and lions are. To call us beasts is an honor She has gifted to us. To adhere to structure is to honor our birthright.” Her gaze dropped from his face to the crackling flames. "So I cannot help but wonder where the line is drawn,” she said. "To exist is to suffer—there is no escape from that. Nature is not merciful. Her grandeur comes hand in hand with pain.” Beauty, pain, ascension. "And yet,” she said, and thought of her son wearing the same hitai-ate as her own, and said no more.

Shindera Mori -- 437

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shindera Mori]

Mori’s eyes glinted at Yukari’s words, his gentle demeanour shifting slightly. Still patient, still relaxed, but his face was ever the more predatory, the focus of his attention shifted from ensuring that his tea was perfectly steeped and to the conversation at hand. Whoever this woman was, she was an intellectual, that much was clear. He could comprehend when she was baiting him in, taking the words that he had put forth and offering further morsels which he could devour. The ever-so-slow exposing of his ideology, a dangerous ideology, one that would see him branded a heretic at best and a criminal at worst. He had the presence in the BINGO Book to prove the latter. The smoke of the fire turned, the wind blowing it, and it assaulted Mori as Yukari spoke, causing his eyes to burn and his breathing to falter. But he did not hesitate, he had smelt worse, he had experienced worse fire. "Another point to which I must concede,” He responded with a gentle smile, "Beasts exist in packs, they hunt, they kill, they survive. Structure is natural, familial bonds are natural, using one’s strength to protect one’s own is natural.” "The line?” He offered rhetorically, "I posit that the line is drawn where we seek to govern ourselves as if we are not beasts. A wolf kills to protect and feed its pack, to ensure the continuation of its bloodline and the safety of those it cares for. In the brutal beauty of nature, there are no rules except those set down by the world itself.” "A man has no such option. He is forced to bend to those whose power is backed by pieces of paper, should he stand up for his beliefs or to protect his family, he is named criminal. We are denied the pain of nature, and with it we are denied its beauty, we cannot fight for our own beliefs or for what is our own by the structural constraints of what one may call society.” "Society that has carved its face upon the world with fire and blood, society that has unleashed disease.” "And yet,” He parroted again, "To exist is to suffer, yet should that suffering not be our own?”

tokonatsu yukari