Chapter 2
The scar on the tiny island, southeast of the central island looked angry and violent. It roared with pain which agitated it so heavily. The waves of the tides crashed hard at the bottom of cliffs and the water raised high, capturing more sand on the beaches than normal.
Isabella walked through the island that looked as if it had been the sight of a major battle. It had in fact, however the battle was against the island itself. Isabella came to a bridge and sat on the large thick railing edge near the center. She waited, kicking her legs and entertaining herself by counting the number of craters, and then the number of slash marks that appeared on rock formations, trees, the ground, and anywhere within her range of vision.
Boredom quickly ensued and Isabella waited impatiently for nearly an hour before the appearance of the man she had been waiting for. Coming from the other side of the bridge was a man carrying 3 swords sheathed on his right side and another sword diagonal across his back. The man walked with a smile on his face while scratching his short, shaggy, green hair.
“Forgive me, have you been waiting long?” The man asked.
“Yes, I have,” Isabella says bluntly, irritation was apparent in her voice.
“Well a sword as special as this one requires time and effort my dear Isabella,” The man said in his defense.
“Every time I come here to see you, there is less and less of this island,” Isabella said, ignoring the excuse of the green haired man, “So let me have it already, I have to go.”
“Come now Isabella, don’t be like that.”
“Zoro!” Isabella sternly commanded in a low voice.
“Fine, fine,” Zoro took the blade from his back, revealing two twin swords. “Behold, Sanda Yukimura!” Zoro said enthusiastically, the roar of the waves beneath the bridge splashing against the cliff, gave him more ambiance for his presentation of his masterpiece.
Isabella took the two blades from Zoro, studying them rather rudimentarily, “Eh.”
Zoro lowered his head, saddened at the unexpected lack of appreciation of the crimson haired kunoichi, “This sword took me over a year to construct, to perfect. Several sleepless nights, several cuts and burns, my own blood purposely infused to strengthen the metal to have the sword perfect just for you, and all you can say is eh?”
“Well, I’ll be going now.”
“I even put crimson in the name to match your hair and piercing Sharingan…don’t you even want to know how it works, or its abilities?”
“Not really.”
Zoro gets into the fetal position, holding his legs and burying his head in his knees. “So unappreciated.”
“Stop sulking and get up, you look like Near,” Isabella commands. “I’m in a hurry right now. I’ll come back and you can tell me all about how hard you worked on it and show me how the sword works.”
“You’re patronizing me right now aren’t you?” Zoro got up and stood in front of Isabella.
“Do you not want me to come back then?”
“No, no, it’s fine. I know all about your assignment, which is why I took the extra nights to hurry and finish this for you. I know I’ve kept you waiting with this for quite some time. I remember when Orochimaru commissioned me to make the sword after inducting you as one of the Seven.”
“I don’t care much, swords aren’t my thing. Though, crafted by you makes it an invaluable asset.”
“Really?!” Zoro blushed slightly with a minor smile.
Isabella rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk away. Sword freak was what she thought of to describe Zoro. Zoro watched as Isabella left, and he soon took his leave as well. He really should come back to Kiri, Isabella thought.
Isabella thought about her conversation with Orochimaru. In his office overlooking the rest of the village, Orochimaru sat with his hat tilted down just above his yellow eyes. He fiddled with it like a child playing with a joy as he spoke to Isabella.
“Try to get him to come back, our power with him would skyrocket.”
“He’s a lost cause; him and those swords of his. Let’s just be grateful he’s loyal to the extent he wouldn’t betray us.”
“Such skill wasted in his solitude…such a pity.”
“He’s the creator of the Seven Swords, and a Sage.”
“Sage of the Abyssal Sword, truly a magnificent shinobi…at least he knows what he wants, one of the few in this world who do.”
Isabella continued to walk off until she reached the boat she had sailed in on and sailed off to the port of the main island of the Water Country.
***
“Orochimaru-sama, you called for us?” The voice of Near caught the attention of Orochimaru who stood with his back facing his office as he looked out into the village. Orochimaru turned his head only slightly to gaze upon Near and Asura who had entered his office.
“Yes,” Orochimaru said, with no expression. Near and Asura entered even further, coming just before Orochimaru’s desk. They could tell the worry of the Mizukage. The profile of his face when he turned to them, there was no scathing smile or amusement in his expression, only strictness and a composed sense of urgency. “What took you so long?”
“We bumped into Akuma-dono on his way back from his last mission. He needed a work out so he pulled us aside for a small training match, we couldn’t really say no,” Near said.
“I see,”
“I recall seeing Isabella leaving the village heading for Zoro-dono’s place.” Asura said, “He must’ve finished that weapon for her.”
“Never mind that, did you receive the information I asked of you?” Orochimaru asked rather impatiently.
“Yes, yes,” Asura pulled out the documents concealed in his red jacket and placed them in front of Orochimaru. “Their actions have remained minor, no movements or actions towards the Five Nations or any of the lesser ones for that matter.”
“Regardless…” Orochimaru said, scanning the documents.
“We didn’t get much information on their ware bouts either. Our networks throughout the continent noted a few sightings, primarily around the eastern boarder land of the Lands of Lightning and Fire. The Land of Rice was also a place of sighting on a few occasions. We couldn’t manage to keep tabs on them though, our networking is strong but these people have managed to elude us for without fail for years.” Near explains.
“Their inactivity leaves me with an eerie feeling,” Orochimaru said.
“Of their members, Goro Kaguya, Ichigo and Vincent have been the most frequently spotted, though they were solo.”
“I don’t care right now, we need results,” Orochimaru said with urgency. “Keep working on locating them, once you do we should be set.”
“Are you talking about—”
“Yes,” Orochimaru cut off Near, looking intensely in the eyes of his subordinates. “Isabella was just sent to Konoha for that very reason.”
“And what about our status with the other Nations?” Near asked, shifting his head towards Asura, “I presume we have a general understanding for this specific situation?”
“Our ties with Kumo are still strong and we’re neutral with both Suna and Iwagakure,” Asura began, “I spoke with Iwagakure’s Tsuchikage, Toku seems to like the idea of maintaining neutrality with the other nations for the sake of preserving peace, though he supports this idea of ours. As for the Kazekage, I haven’t had a chance to meet with him. However I’m sure given the state of Sunagakure, if he rejects the initial offer, it’s nothing a generous donation to help their pathetically weakened village couldn’t fix.”
“Then I’ll get to work on finding our targets so we can rally the troops.” Near said as he bowed.
“Stay vigilant.” Orochimaru ordered and the two generals of Kirigakure left the Mizukage. Orochimaru returned to his gazing of his village. His office placed the highest in the manor, allowing him to look down at the village as if he were a god observing his subjects. And, just like that the smile, infamous of the Mizukage, returned to his face. “Soon…very soon, Kirigakure will assert itself above the Five Villages, just like before. This world will learn peace under our guidance.”
So, even the Mizukage of Bloody Mist Village sought peace. What do shinobi fight for, love, peace, power, obligation, thrill? Villages founded with the ideals of bringing about peace, others for the soul purpose of gaining power and wealth, organizations seeking the destruction and recreation of the world. Regardless of the destination at the end of the road, the path traveled by all those who don the title of shinobi is the same, through blood shed.