The silence lingered after my words. I felt the weight of two gazes upon me, different yet bound by the same unyielding demand. The air, heavy with the scent of tea and the iodine of the sea, seemed to tighten around me, as if every particle understood the importance of this moment.
Makoto stepped forward, her grace leaving no room for hesitation. Tall and composed, her very aura commanded without the need for words. Her violet eyes, clear yet sharp, pierced beyond the visible—they probed the logic and intent behind every gesture. Even before she spoke, I understood she was the master of this place. When her voice finally rose, low and measured, each word fell with the weight of a seal:
"I am Makoto, Archon of Inazuma."
Archon? I have never heard such a term… perhaps the title of this land's ruler?
I grew ever more convinced I was far from Konoha and its war. It was impossible that these two women remained so distant and serene if the world was engulfed in global conflict, where no city or village escaped its grasp.
Beside her, like a silent extension, Ei stood motionless. The tension that radiated from her was unlike her sister's. Where Makoto commanded through presence, Ei commanded through control. She was the blade poised to fall, vigilance incarnate. Her dark eyes pierced the air, assessing, calculating, and every micro-movement of her body suggested a storm restrained. To anyone unaware of their bond, she would appear to be an exceptional guard, but I perceived the invisible thread that bound her to Makoto: loyalty, devotion, and a protective instinct surpassing mere duty.
Makoto sat with fluid grace, leaving behind her an aura of silent authority. "Few know of my sister's existence," she said without raising her eyes, as though reminding me that certain truths were not meant for outsiders. "Ei acts for Inazuma and for me. Everything she does is measured, and nothing escapes her judgment."
I remained seated, silent, absorbing every detail. Their interactions were subtle, almost imperceptible, yet I could sense the balance of roles. Makoto spoke, Ei observed; Makoto judged with calm, Ei protected without concession. And I, an intruder, caught between forces I did not yet understand.
Makoto inclined her head slightly, a gesture almost maternal, yet still carrying authority.
"You know nothing of this world," she continued. "And yet you are here. That is neither chance nor choice." Her voice did not seek to frighten me—it simply declared a fact, an unspoken law.
Ei moved forward, so subtly it was almost imperceptible. Her dark, still eyes evaluated me. She asked no questions, she measured. I did not move. My name had been spoken, my presence acknowledged, and I understood that the slightest haste might be taken as a threat.
Makoto poured more tea into a delicate cup and handed it to me. Her fingers brushed the rim with the precision of ritual. The act was not simply hospitality, it was a silent test. I accepted the cup, the hot, bitter liquid anchoring me to the moment. Ei never looked away, but I sensed the tension easing slightly, just enough for me to breathe without triggering her defensive reflex.
Makoto folded her hands, her eyes never leaving me, studying my reactions with the patience of a strategist. "We will come to know you," she said at last. "But for now, you must understand this world is governed by its laws. And those laws are not negotiable."
Ei stepped back, her focus unbroken. She was the silent blade ensuring those laws would not be defied. Even motionless, her presence cut the air, and I felt that every gesture, every word, every silence, was weighed against the balance they maintained.
I set the cup down without a word. The sisters exchanged a brief glance—silent, yet laden with meaning. I understood that this place was measured not only by strength or hierarchy, but by mastery of calm, precision of gesture, and the ability to exist under the scrutiny of an unyielding vigilance.
For the first time in years, I allowed myself to relax—slightly. Not with naïve trust, but with the awareness that, for now, remaining still was my best strategy. The world could wait until I chose to act.
Makoto smiled faintly. Ei never did. Together, they spoke the name of this land: Inazuma. And I understood, without explanation, that the name carried as much lightning as chains, as much law as protection. I did not yet know if I was here to observe or to act, but for now, I would simply follow.
The tea had lost its warmth, but not the atmosphere. The silence remained dense, as if even the walls held their breath. I felt their gazes upon me,one calm and piercing, the other as sharp as a blade above my neck.
Makoto spoke first. Her voice, low and clear, carried a certainty I could not ignore:
"You cannot remain here without a role. In Inazuma, everyone has a place. If you are to stay among us, you must find yours."
Her words were not an invitation. They were fact. A rule.
Ei crossed her arms, her dark eyes locked on mine. "We do not let a stranger wander freely. If you claim you wish to remain, then you must prove it. Not with words… but with deeds."
Makoto continued, serene as ever:
"There is a path for you. The army. You could begin there."
I frowned slightly. "The army?"
She nodded gently. "You know nothing of our laws or customs. If you begin from the bottom, you will learn. A foot soldier. An ashigaru. That is how all worthy service begins."
My eyes fell briefly to the tea. Ashigaru. A mere foot soldier, flesh and blood thrown to the frontlines. In my world, I had borne the weight of command, of shadowed orders, of responsibilities no man should bear. Here, I was offered the chance to begin again… at the very bottom.
Pathetic, isn't it? To be forced into an army simply to survive is cruel. It seems I cannot even die in peace without being compelled to fight again.
Ei gave me no time to dwell. "If you refuse, you will have no reason to remain." Her words cracked like a verdict.
I raised my head, set down the cup. "I have nothing to refuse. If this is what it takes to move forward here, then I accept." For now, I knew nothing of this land, learning more could only serve me.
A brief silence followed. Ei studied me, searching for weakness, deceit, or hidden motives. But I had nothing left to hide here.
Makoto finally offered a faint smile—subtle, but real. "You will come to understand that strength is not everything. Discipline and loyalty are what build a nation."
"And if you fail," Ei added, straightening, her voice low but sharp, "I will be there to ensure your story ends here."
Seriously? I knew better than most what loyalty meant. Perhaps no one in my village matched mine, not to boast, but I could not tell them that, or my head would not stay attached in my shoulders.
I met her gaze, neither defiant nor submissive. "Then I will not fail."
Another silent exchange passed between them. I could not decipher it, but I knew they had reached an agreement without words.
Makoto placed her hand on the table, closing the matter. "Tomorrow, you will meet those with whom you will begin. For now, rest."
I merely nodded. My throat was dry, but my thoughts were drier still.
I was no longer a captain, no longer an assassin, no longer a brother. I was a soldier without a homeland, about to wield a spear in a world that was not mine. And yet, a strange feeling lingered in my chest. Why fight for a land I did not know? Why even bother? I would gather information… and act accordingly I guess.
----
Dawn broke over Inazuma in a shroud of mist. The sky, still pale blue, blushed with the first hues of rose spreading over the sea. The salty scent drifted through the sisters' residence, a reminder that every breath of wind came from the ocean, as though the entire island depended on it to breathe.
After Makoto had sent me to a barracks, I gathered information about this place. Inazuma was one of seven nations in this world. As I suspected, I was no longer in my land. The culture resembled mine strangely, yet remained distinctly different.
What shocked me most was the existence of gods. Seven still ruled openly. Makoto was one of them—the Electro Archon, Archon of Eternity. As for Ei, I could only assume she too was divine, being Makoto's twin, though strangely no one seemed aware of it.
Chakra did not exist here. Only something called Visions and Elements. Tools bestowed by the gods, granting mortals the ability to wield elements. The nature of these elements was similar to chakra, though far less versatile.
The gods could command their element freely. Makoto and Ei were Electro, akin to Raiton. I doubted I could wield an element of this world, but my chakra remained. Though still recovering, by tomorrow I would surely be stronger.
Why was I sent here? Was this the will of the Sage of Six Paths? Since arriving, I had only questions without answers. What message was I meant to find here?
Suddenly, a guard entered my austere room. His armor did not shine; it was heavy, marked by years of use, each plate creased from service. His voice was firm, not hostile:
"Foreigner. The Yoriki has given orders. Rise."
I obeyed without a word. My body still reminded me of the fatigue of this unchosen journey, but my will did not falter.
The Shogunate's army followed a strict hierarchy: first the Ashigaru, the lowest rank, then the Doushin, followed by Yoriki, Hatamoto, and finally the Generals.
There was also the Okuzumeshuu, the Shogun's personal guard, though I doubted those sisters needed any such protection. Still, it was a well-structured order. If compared to Konoha, they resembled the ANBU.
For now, I was merely an ashigaru. Fortunate, perhaps, that the Shogun had been merciful, granting me a chance to prove myself after trespassing on their land. I was affiliated with the Tenryou Commission, headed by the Kujou Clan, which primarily handles military affairs in this country.
I don't know how strong Makoto and Ei are, but if I had to fight them yesterday, I would have surely been killed. My condition has improved compared to yesterday, but I still haven't returned to my full power.
I've also noticed two things. First, I still have my eyes. My Mangekyou Sharingan is intact, and I have no present blindness. But that still doesn't change the problem that if I use these eyes excessively, I'll go back to being blind as if I died. Second, my illness seems to have disappeared for some reason. I don't know what to make of it.
The corridors were long and austere. No needless ornamentation, here, elegance was born of discipline. Each step echoed against the tatami like a solemn rhythm.
Outside, the morning breeze struck my face. Before me lay a vast courtyard, enclosed by wooden walls and crimson-tiled roofs. Dozens of figures stood waiting—twenty men, perhaps more, aligned in formation. Their spears rested upon their shoulders, silver tips pointing skyward. Their faces were stern, weathered by toil—some young, others hardened by age and the dust of campaigns.
A murmur rippled through their ranks as I approached. The word foreigner whispered low, almost hissed.
At the center, an officer stepped forward. His armor, more ornate, bore the emblem of the Kujou Clan, a stylized bolt of lightning. His dark eyes fell upon me with icy suspicion.
"This is him? The man taken in by… her?"
The guard beside me nodded once.
The officer narrowed his eyes, then barked, his voice cracking like thunder:
"Listen well, foreigner. Here, we care nothing for your past. You are an ashigaru, nothing more. You will eat as they do, suffer as they do, and die as they do if that is your fate."
He paused, fingers brushing the hilt of his katana.
"But before that, you must prove you are even fit to stand among them."
I met his gaze silently. I had no need for words. Pride had no place here, only obedience. And perhaps… endurance.
A sharp signal. The soldiers shifted, forming a wide circle. In the courtyard's sand, an arena had been marked. The officer gestured to its center.
"Enter."
I obeyed.
Before me, a soldier stepped forward. In his eyes burned the hunger to prove himself; in his movements, a poorly hidden anger. He wanted to be the one to break me, or at least to test me.
"Hold nothing back," said the officer. "Here, weakness is paid in blood."
The soldier gripped his spear and charged. His cry tore through the air, the wood vibrating in his hands. I moved barely at all. My foot pivoted, my torso tilted. The spear's tip brushed past my cheek. With one hand, I seized the shaft, halting his thrust. The shock reverberated through his shoulders.
Too weak. The words rose instinctively as I saw the lack of strength. None of them, it seemed, possessed a Vision.
He strained, grunting. I did not budge. His muscles quivered, the wood groaned. Then, with a fluid motion, I toppled him. His body hit the sand in a cloud of dust. The circle tightened, murmurs rose, but no one interfered.
The soldier scrambled back up, ashamed, his eyes aflame. He charged again. This time, his strike aimed for my ribs, fast, precise. I lifted two fingers, deflected the angle, and once more he fell, his spear wrenched from his grasp.
A heavy silence fell. The whispers ceased. All had seen.
I calmly laid the spear at his feet. "I need no weapons."
The officer studied me for a long moment. His lips pressed into a line, but in his eyes I caught a fleeting glint, not respect, not yet, but silent recognition.
He signaled the circle to break. "Good. You are not weak. But remember this, foreigner: strength alone is not enough to march under Inazuma's banner. You will learn discipline. You will learn loyalty. And if you refuse…" His words lingered like a shadow. "…then even this land will reject your corpse."
The ranks returned to formation. The sun, now higher, gleamed golden across the spearheads. I breathed deeply, knowing this day was only a beginning.
I became a soldier.
A soldier among soldiers.
Once more, I would fight for a nation that was not mine.
But when the time came, I would leave.
Only I knew: it was not my strength they should fear.
It was my patience.