History
In history, things weren't fair. There was always a side being prosecuted for something they couldn't help. Their heritage, color, physical traits, or abilities. The Yuki are an example of that. Their unique chakra nature allowed them to manipulate ice, a power that wasn't seen often, or understood. Because of human nature, things that aren't understood are meant to be destroyed, thus leading to the supposed eradication of their clan. Hana's story is the same, but told just a tad bit differently. She was a fishman, or woman, she has a unique gene within her passed from her mother that made her essentially part fish. For as long as she knew, she had the ability to breathe underwater, run faster than any boy she knew, including her dad, she was unique. Though, their kind was looked down upon heavily, some were killed, imprisoned, or enslaved. A group of humans called the "Shark Tongues", banned together to rally them all up, you know, get rid of the problem? Pillaging villages, killing anyone who harbored the "inferior race", was a creed. A word they lived by, bound to it like a religious text. Hana, was with her parents the day they attacked, fire was spread about, a ruckus through the whole town. Her mother took her by the hand, and raced through the rubble, Hana's father stayed behind to fend them off as long as he could, it was courageous, and poetic. He was a human, he could've easily turned on his family to save his life, but he didn't. Though his acts didn't buy them enough time, he was disposed of, quite easily at that. Using their most prominent sensors, they were located by Natsa's Creek, the creek itself was mostly used for a water source, but the waters flowed heavily with blood all around. Bodies littered the ground, they reeked of dried blood, her mother bent down on one knee, and wiped her tears. Pulling her daughter in closer, their foreheads touch as she sings the sweetest lullaby. The softness of her voice filled the air, and even blurred the screams, Hana's body went limp, she fell into a deep sleep, but just when her perusers got there.
She woke up in a cell, the brick underneath her was cold, her fingers were numb, and the constant sound of chattering teeth filled the halls. Slowly getting up, she looked about, walked to the opening and placed her hands on the cool steel bars. Hana couldn't remember a thing that happened from before, nothing. Her mother had destroyed, or rather, suppressed all her memories of her previous life before she was captured. Though her memories were scrambled, millions of thoughts ran through her head at once, where she was, was ironically he birthplace. The group had somehow formulated a base off the shore, skillfully keeping themselves hidden from the sensing ability of the clan leader at that time. In the Hiroba islands, the atmosphere is special, and can allow the inhabitants (the fishman), to communicate through strange clicks utilizing the water molecules. The stench of stained blood on the cold pavement reeked, children of all different types of clans and ethnicities were hung, burned, murdered in cold blood. That was all she remembered of her childhood.
Eventually ending up a rogue shinobi roaming the water country, Hana's special abilities caught the eye of someone in particular. Her appearance was shrouded by the maternal mist, but the ambition in her voice made it clear what she wanted. She needed people, special and loyal people to help her in her pursuit of rebuilding what's fallen time, and time again. The Bloody Mist, which wasn't exactly bloody anymore. A village that was built on betrayal and deceit has fallen exceptionally low under previous rule, and had you naively believed in her dreams, you would've thought she was capable of changing something. Lexi Blades, the acting Mizukage. Sadly, it was a front. She initiated war and couldn't defend the village, and at it's weakest state, she vanished just like she came in. In a state of turmoil, the populous had elected a new acting leader, Lancer. In terms of ambition, he was the split image of Lexi, except one thing set them apart. He got it done. For a while, the Mist was a husk of it's former self, going through countless leaders who attempted to repair the damages but failed to succeed. Though Lancer was something different, the remnants of the torn country united underneath a single banner, one that should've been risen eons ago. |