Time Lost

[Bishimi]

*skritch skritch*

For quite some time now that noise has been his only friend. The man had no idea how long he has been here, or even where here is. The lack of windows in his cell makes it difficult to establish time or location. The best he has had to go on was the feint sounds of the animals through the walls….and the accent of his captors. While he was sure the people that have come to him were simply grunts doing their assigned duty and not the man, or men, responsible for his presence here. Their accents were clear even behind their veiled faces and muffled voices; one cannot hide a Tokunese tongue.

*skritch skritch*

He smiled. It only lasted briefly as he remembered the events that brought him here. A trip made under false pretences, a fight that could hardly be called that as it was so one sided (but as he looks back on it, clearly a trap meant for him alone), and an attack that left him here, in this room. He felt like an Oshiego all over again, these men knew what they were doing. It was darkness for a long time after being brought here. His blindfold was not removed for what seemed to be months. The rope that bound his hands left in place for just as long. It took him days to figure out how to eat while bound, even longer to call his familiar, longer yet for it to make any progress on these walls.

*skritch skritch*

He heard footsteps. “Time for dinner,” he thought to himself “death for me is clearly not an option here, they need me alive.” He waited for the grunt to bring him food, expected the same sound of the tray being slipped under the bars of his cell. It was a name that broke him of the repetitiveness of his situation.... sometimes, that is all it takes. “Shinta, it has been far too long.” He knew that voice, it was not possible but he knew his uncles voice when he heard it. “But that is not what you call yourself these days is it…Bishimi?”

*skritch skri…*

Even the rat knew…The Soke had business that needed tending here.

[Bishimi]

"Daizen" Bishimi fiercely growled. "How is it you.." he was interrupted "Come to be here Shinta?" The old man laughed loudly as he raised his arms almost in victory. "The answer is simple my dear dear nephew. We of the Hanzagiri have always held interest in dark arts." Daizen stopped looking away contemplatively for a moment. "You know this...of course you know this." The mans age left not only his memory but also his senility in question. He continued "Since your dissaperance boy, even before your father was killed, we had heard whispers of other lands that mirrored our own. Grand tales of how our reality is much like a shattered gem, shards reflecting each other, showing us other Tokunos. Showing us opportunity. If we could not have one to rule, we would take another. Imagine our surprise when we learned of others looking to do the same?" "Nosf" Again, the Soke was cut off "Yes Nosfentor! You have forgotten your manners boy!? Let your elder speak! I guess your years here had made you forget."

The old man spoke on and on. Explaining how they managed to get close enough to be pulled into Nosfentors spell. How they had not known until recently that Bishimi led the clan,not to mention the fact that he is indeed a long lost son of the Hanzagiri. A fact reviled by his sister Ni. It is only now the Soke is coherent enough for this conversation. In Bishimis head all he could think of was one word. "Years" This one word meant much to him. His family, his clan, his Empress. What has become of them? How is it he did not know it was so long? His rage built up within him. A feeling he has not had since his childhood with his father. One that left him the day he found the lotus clan. His eyes looked about the small room as his uncle talked. He needed something, anything,his strength was not as it should be. He must have been drugged. That would explain his missing years...but how? The answer laid at his knees in an empty bowl. The Food, there was no other way.

Daizen's rant continued, but Bishimi had learned all he needed to. In one swift movement he grabbed the bowl from the floor, pushed up, and met it with the side of his uncles head. The other side of which hit the floor with a wet thud very soon thereafter. The old man looked up at the enraged leader of the Blue Lotus Clan confused. "Your men should have left me bound and blindfolded...." Bishimi stated before ending his uncles life as he wished his did his father so many years ago. The Soke was not finished, this he knew. "They all must die," he mumbled silently "every one of them." He did not know their numbers and his strength was not yet at its peak, the adrenaline only doing so much to ease his pain, years of training took over his body. Quickly he donned his uncles clothing and cane, shoved the body into a corner and left the cell.

A weapon is Bishimis first priority, food and hopefully a safe place to rest a moment after that. In his search for these things he passed several guards with no issue. Then he remembered his Uncles delusions of superiority and realized they are to frightened to look at his face. "This will be easy." He thought to himself as he found what was obviously Daizens quarters.Inside of it was all he needed. A mages armor (it will do him well for now), Several daggers paired with bottles of poison. Apparently his uncle was fond of the skill as well, this suited the Soke perfectly. Using one of the daggers he cut tiny openings in his newly acquired armor to make small "sheaths" for the others. With this Bishimi made his way out of Daizens room with one goal...Kill every follower of the old Hanzagiri clan.

[Bishimi]

Quickly the Soke made his way out of Daizens quarters. In no time at all the first of the guards met his end thanks to Bishimis blade. Over the course of a few hours he killed every guard and follower he found in the old but rather large building, his normally stealthy approach ignored. His anger taking control of his mind and body as he walked room to room, floor to floor with little regard for his own safety until there was no one left. After he was sure of this rational thought returned to him. It would not be untrue to say the Soke felt guilt for his actions, some of these men were no more skilled with their blades then a farmer would be. It could not be avoided he told himself, leaving anyone alive could be a mistake and one he would not be willing to risk. Next time it might have been Ni or even one of his own children...no, this was the only way.

Bishimi made his way back down the many flights of stairs to the dungeon and where his uncle lay dead. He picked up the now cold and limp body carefully and made his way outside. After setting it down he used the only tool readily available to him, the last of his stolen daggers, and spent hours digging a grave for the old man. It is true he was homicidal, the Soke was sure that after their talk he would have been disposed of, and crazy but he was still family and Bishimi would not let his uncle rot in that cell.

It did not take the weary ninja long to figure out where he was being held once he took the time to survey the land. Isamu was not the most forgiving of the Tokonese islands when one came prepared. He knew getting home would be more work then his body would allow at this time, he needed other options. Later, he thought, for now he only wanted rest. The Soke sat on the hot ground leaning against the building as he stared at the fresh grave. All he wondered as he slowly fell asleep is how things came to be so bad and how much worse they might get.

In what felt like no time at all Bishimi opened his eyes to the warm glow of a fire and the smell of....fish steaks? He looked around wondering who might have built it, then almost as if timed he heard footsteps coming from the house. Again his instincts take over as he quickly grabs his dirt covered dagger and prepares to fight. His grip on the handle tightens as a figure begins to emerge from the darkness of the decrepit building but for the second time it is a familiar voice and the name it speaks that catches his attention. “Soke Bishimi?” the shadow asked “That is you is it not?” Bishimi also knew this man all to well and with the raspy voice of one who has said no words in days he softly asked “Ujio?”

The monks cane was first to break the shadow. Slowly the rest of his body walked into the inviting light of the fire. With a rather large smile on his face he spoke. “Soke, you look like hell.” Bishimi found a little strength to muster a chuckle. “I am sure old friend, this was no place of relaxation.” he replied. The monk nodded solemnly “Of this I am sure. I looked throughout it and found many bodies. Did you do this?” The ninja looked away, ashamed of the actions he felt forced to take. Ujio took this as an admission and again nodded “And the grave?” Bishimi looked at the grave then the dry blood and dirt on his hands and asked “Do you remember Daizen, Ujio?”. “Of course” he responded “if I recall his ambitions were worse then your fathers were they not?” The Soke nodded. “They were.” he said looking at the mound of dirt. “I see.” Ujio began “You were always a smart man Bishimi, I am neither here to question your actions or to scold you for them. I only happened across you on my way home.” “Home?” the ninja asked. Ujio simply pointed to the top of Mount Sho. “Shall we make our way then Soke?” Bishimi nodded rising to his feet. “Ujio...arigato.” The monk only nodded and silently continued his walk home with an injured ninja in tow.

[Bishimi]

“You fooled me old man.” Bishimi said short of breath. “You lead me to believe *breaths heavily* your home was close.” “I did no such thing Soke.” The monk said clearly not nearly as tired as the ninja and many steps ahead on the mountain. “If that is what you chose to believe based on my words. This is no fault of mine.” Ujio paused for a moment letting the Soke catch up to him. “Are we Taking a break then?” Bishimi gasped. The years of capture obviously have done nothing for his conditioning. “I just did.” The monk responded while trying to hide a rather large grin from the Soke and continued his trek. Bishimi only sighed and followed.

After a bit more climbing and a lot more complaining from the soke they finally reached a little hut near the summit. Bishimi, practically dragging himself inside the door, quickly found a seat and removed the now useless and quite dirty armor he had stolen from Daizen. The monk noticed this and looked through a chest he has finding and tossing the ninja an old robe of his. “This should hold you until your return home.” Bishimi looked at the ground clearly pondering the idea. “You ARE going home are you not?” asked Ujio. Again, the ninja thought a moment before asking a question of his own “Should I?” The monk looked at the Soke not understanding the question or hesitation to return. “Why would you not?” he responded. “I have been away so long..” the ninja began as he looked up at the monk with doubt in his eyes “perhaps I am no longer needed.” Ujio only chuckled slightly as he found a seat of his own. “Needed by whom Soke?” he questioned, his face growing quite serious. “My clan, my family...my Empress.” Bishimi answered quickly.

“Poor boy. You never did understand did you? Every one knows but you.” The monk watched Bishimi waiting for the obvious question. Silence filled the room for what seemed to be ages before the soke finally asked it. “Know what?” “Bishimi,” the monk said “look what you have become, what you have done. Is it not clear? It was never they who needed you, it is, always was and always will be you who need them.” Bishimi looked at the ground. Clearly this was something he had never considered. Ujio stood again “I will fetch some tea” he said softly as he moved to the back of his hut. From an already warm pot he only poured but one cup and sipped to test its flavor. He turned around, returned to his seat and looks up at what is now the empty space the Soke once occupied unsurprised. He sipped from his cup again and said aloud “It is about time the boy has grown up is it not?” Miko stepped from her room and smiled at her brother. “Seiji, Takashi...he will make them both proud.” She spoke with a hint of joy in her voice. She then looked closely at the monk and asked “Where is MY tea!?”

“He is right!” Bishimi thought to himself as he sprinted down the hill “I was ready to abandon everything, everyone. Just as my father would have wanted, perhaps just as my uncle might have.” The landscape was a blur to the Sokes eyes, his energy, his hope...his faith returned to him. “I am not them!” In what was clearly far less time then it took to ascend it the ninja was at the bottom of the mountain. After taking a moment to access his location Bishimi made his way to the gate of transportation. In only a half days time he was there and ready to step through. Apprehensive? Concerned? Scared? He was all of these things but above all he will be home.