Dance of the Demon Summoner [Naruto SI/OC]

An omen is born into the world of Naruto. An abominable witch who dances as she summons eldritch demons from the void. Can she find her place in this unforgiving world? Especially during the Third Shinobi World War.

OC/Self Insert - Inspired by fics like Of the River and Sea, The Bloody Oracle of Kiri, Clearing Mist, etc.

---

I was dying. The cause for it is something I would rather not talk about. Just know that I am in a hospital bed and strapped to life support. The place was sterile, yet I could smell the faint hints of lavender perfume that my sister enjoyed wearing. There were words of encouragement being whispered all around me. I could hear the slight cries of my mother as she wept by my side. My father held my hand, steady as stone. My vision was blurry at that point, but I was still smiling. I felt my lover kiss my forehead as I finally closed my eyes.

“Goodbye.” I whisper this softly as I pass on. The constant beat of the heart monitor falling flat as I drifted off into the void.

It felt like I was falling. Or perhaps I was floating? There was no queasy feeling in my chest, no feeling of dread as the endless pitchblack sea held me adrift. I no longer had arms, nor did I have legs. I was pure consciousness. I had hoped that opalescent gates would greet me, and I feared that perhaps I would sink into a never ending pit of flame. It was calming in a way, a freedom unlike any other.

In some way, I knew my eyes would open again. Somewhere deep in my soul. Perhaps I’d been inhaling too much copium. I was dead now and I had no idea where I ended up. The void devoured all sense of hope and light, but I was no quitter. My string of former lovers did mention I had the patience of a saint.

There was a sense of fading, like something within this endless expanse was trying to erase me. Perhaps even rewrite me, but whatever it was doing wasn’t enough. I had been a strong independent woman before my passing, and my soul was filled with enough thighs, tits, ass, and sass to squash a small country. If the void wanted to take a go at me, I'd make them work for it.

Whatever it was never pushed harder, nor did it relent and go softer. It was a constant gaping pit that was always there. It promised peace even though I did not need it. It promised rest though I was not tired. It promised safety though I didn’t need protection.

Still the silent seductions of the void offered I’m not sure how long I metaphorically spent whooping its sorry ass, but I didn’t mind. I was pure consciousness and soul, I no longer had a brain to hurt nor did I have a heart to break. My thoughts never grew weary, nor did my soul tire.

I refused to fade away into the mystery. I would not forsake all that I was before. To forget what I was before my death, would be to besmirch the memories of those I loved before. Besides, I rather enjoyed my current state. It was a state of being without the senses. No sight, sound, scent, sensation, or taste.

In the midst of my neverending reverie, I looked back on my life.

I remember my final moments of peace and satisfaction, surrounded by those I loved as I breathed my last. I had to let go, because it was my time to pass on. There was a sense of heartache as I whispered goodbye to my family and friends. A smile on my face while closing my eyes to drift off into the long sleep. Flashes of memory retold themselves as my heart rate slowed down.

When I was a child, my parent’s work meant that we traveled often. It was in many ways, a nomadic life. A life that was filled with the joys of adventure and travel. As well as the heartaches of never having a home. My Mom and Dad loved me a lot, but their complicated schedules meant that I spent most of my time in boarding schools.

I didn’t want to be selfish but it always felt like I was being abandoned. Exiled and left behind in a space between worlds. It wasn’t until I discovered cooking and dance, that I found my calling. Cooking was an art, a science, and a universal love. Dancing on the other hand, was a voice with no words, a safe haven from my worries, and a universal language. Spiced with the recipes and dialects of each place we moved to, but with unique and shared ingredients. All of that blending into a delicious meal or performance.

Yet, even after all the experiences I gained. I yearned for something more. I wanted a place to call my own. A safe space from which I could continue my journeys and adventures. I never would have guessed that it would lead me to find something beyond the food and dance.

I found love. He was short, good, and caring. He was always there for me, and he was a demon in the sack. He had black hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. He was a corporate lawyer who worked for a shipping company. His voice was deep for someone of his height, and he loved to watch me dance. I in turn, loved to watch him taste the food I cooked.

We never got married, but stayed together as if we were. We never had children, but we helped raise my sister’s kids. In the end, we never wanted for anything.

It was then that I noticed it. The fade, the hunger, the void. It stopped calling. The erasure of my sense of self had ceased.

But why? Was this some sort of feint? A plot to get me to lower my guard? Well either way, I was ready for its return. I was not, however, ready for what happened next.

All at once my senses returned. A rush of magnificent sensation returns to me in an unstoppable cascade. It was overwhelming. I could see the blurry motions of humanoid giants and dancing shadows in front of me. The light was blinking in and out, from barely visible to blinding bright. There were colors from swaying reds to curving greens. It was all so dizzying. It made me want to cry.

The noises around me sounded like three women were frantically talking to each other. One of them was gasping and crying. The other two were speaking in different tones. One sounded stern and while the other one was encouraging. Their voices formed a deafening cacophony that made my head hurt. The situation was scary, to say the least.

Then there were the smells. A rancid combination of blood, urine, and vomit. The odor permeated my nostrils in lingering wafts. Out of all the smells I could have experienced after dying, it just had to be a worse recreation of my first period.

I then noticed I had a body once more. I felt squishy, like pudding. My limbs felt fragile as I tried to move them. I was also hungry, starving in fact. Then, a pair of warm titanic hands held me close before handing me over to another giant. The woman who held me made a soft cooing sound.

The origin of the voice sounded almost like she was singing. It sounded almost like the lullabies my sister sang when she gave birth to my nephews and niece. I put two and two together at the point.

I reincarnated into the body of an infant. I am a baby again! I tried my best to hold my feelings in, but it was all too much for me.

It is true that I was content in my previous life, but there was so much I never got to try. So many things, both big and small, that I never got to experience. I wondered what world I had been brought to. Was I still living on earth? Perhaps I’d been reborn into the future!

The sheer amount of possibilities combined with the sensational high made me dizzy as I cried in grateful laughter.

---

During the suspiciously cold Friday night of October 31, under the light of the new moon, Kawakami Tomie was born in Kirigakure, the Village Hidden in the Mist. Her laugh-like cries echo throughout the night, as the fading void smiles in anticipation.

---

Authors Note:

Thank you for reading Dance of the Demon Summoner! If you enjoyed the fanfic so far please consider reading one or all of the fanfics I used as reference and inspiration for this story~.

References:

Of the River and the Sea by Aleycat4eva - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10996503/1/Of-the-River-and-the-Sea

Clearing Mist by shadownumera - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9942718/3/Clearing-Mist

 

During my first five months as an infant, I felt blessed. I was given a new life, in a colorful and lively place. I was eager to explore everything around me. However, instead of an immediate and grand adventure, I slept. The sensations around me were still too much, I could barely keep my eyes open after sleeping. Whenever I got hungry I immediately had the urge to cry. All the while, I was being passed around by giant women, one of which was my Mother.

By the time I turned seven months, I managed to get my infant body to crawl around. Have you ever seen the movie Alice in Wonderland? Perhaps Honey I Shrunk the Kids? Or maybe even Antman? All these cinematic films had one thing in common, the main character had the ability to shrink. However, I didn’t take part in any Drink Me potion, I had no means of creating a shrink ray and I never owned a Pym particle suit. Instead, I was stuck inside of an infant’s body. The only things close to my size were the blankies and toys. Cabinets looked more like small rooms, tables and chairs were open huts, and my crib was a fortress. Needless to say, I enjoyed exploring my home, even if it was just one room.

My first year of age heralded new changes. I had grown accustomed to using some of my senses. I could see the beautiful features of my mom. Her sea green eyes, wavy blood red hair, and luscious lips. She wore fancy robes and spoke to me in an asianesque language. It was difficult to understand, but I knew Korean in my past life, and in some ways, the words were similar. I would often attempt to mimic syllables my mom sang out whenever was with me. I was getting the hang of it, but I still had a long way to go. The tongue was a muscle after all, and I was a baby who needed to exercise it.

Three months before my second birthday and I was already running. My first trip around my new home brought me to the kitchens. A chaste and medium sized space with a very organized set of equipment. The kitchen itself had huge differences compared to the modern equipment I was used to. There were pristine versions of retro/antique cooking ware, stoves that needed wood fires beneath them, and a lot of wooden utensils. One of the big sisters saw me out quickly after I tried to make a grab at one of the pots. I hurriedly made my way back to my room after that, I didn’t want to get into further trouble. I passed by the bathrooms before making my way upstairs, lamenting over the fact that my home used some very strange toilets.

On the eve of my third Birthday I asked my mother, who I now knew was an oiran, to educate me in the subject of language. I wanted to learn how to read and write the local language, a more traditional form of Japanese. I was fluent in Korean, Italian, Filipino, and English. None of these languages aided in my quest, except Korean. Hangugeo, the Korean language, had a similar grammar structure to Nihongo, the language of the Japanese. Needless to say, my mother accepted my request, began to train me whenever she wasn’t with a client.

Unlike the yūjo or common sex workers, oiran were courtesans who had high social standing and impeccable talent when it came to the traditional arts. They were celebrities, exclusive and expensive escorts who pleasured and entertained the wealthy. They were extremely proficient in traditional arts such as sadō (tea ceremony), ikebana (flower arranging) and calligraphy. Oiran were also required to be musically gifted when playing the shamisen, as well as other traditional instruments. Being an Oiran also required intelligence, requiring individuals to be witty, well-read, intellectual and elegant.

Thus, when it came to teaching me how to write, my Mother was extremely strict. Language and calligraphy were subjects my mother excelled in. The woman demanded absolute perfection, each stain, broken brush, and blotchy symbol was met with a fierce spanking. While I believed in corporal punishment, I couldn’t the believe the amount of force my mother could inflict with one slap. Each one left me reeling and in tears. I hated it at first, but then I realized where she was coming from. I was a grown woman, and I wasn’t about to let a few mistakes and bruised butts get in the way of my judgment. My Mother was a woman with a reputation to uphold. It had been difficult enough for her to regain her reputation after she had given birth to me. Now her standing was also tied to me. There were expectations that needed to be upheld, I wasn’t just anybody’s daughter afterall.

Though my mother was fierce, she was also beautiful. A graceful woman who spoke to me as if she was singing. She was caring and talented, and though her anger was legendary, it was also swift. Like the ever changing tides of the ocean, my mother’s anger would swiftly settle down into a calming wave. She always made time for me, and As I said before, her work led her into becoming the talent she is today, and though she was gifted in many art forms, her calligraphy was on another level. She could paint intricate symbols, letters, and sentences with swift and dainty flourishes. She could do all of that while wearing robes with long flowing sleeves. Each dip of her brush was quick, her motions leaving no droplets to stray from the inkwell onto the paper. All the while her eyes were elsewhere. She could converse with a client about the recent economic changes that occurred due to the seasons changing while writing a poem about the summer mists. Many oiran and maiko (geisha apprentices) would kill for a chance to learn from my mother. Thus after coming to that understanding, I resolved to do better. I was no stranger when it came to excelling under pressure, afterall, I had been a former dancer in my previous life.

I began my dance training as soon as I turned three. I started with ballet and basic gymnastics in order to develop muscle memory and flexibility. I used the handrails of the back balcony whenever I practiced, it was the closest thing to a barre in the okiya. I started with pliés,tendus, and dégagés. Then, I practiced the basic gymnastic rolls, such as the log roll, egg roll, and forward roll. I had to perform all of this at night when my Mother was busy entertaining a client. I feared what she would say about my dance, she was raising me to be a prim and proper woman after all.

The dreams began shortly after my fourth birthday.

---

I was slumped in a deep pit, the ground before me was wet and tacky. The air smelled like blood and the sky held no sun. In place of a burning sphere was a symbol, an inverted triangle encased in a circle singed itself above me, bearing dim crimson light over this starless abyss. All the while I could feel this drawing presence wash over. It felt like I was being watched. Seduced by the darkness beyond.

“Hello, is anybody there?” I knew I was breaking so many horror movie rules just by speaking, but curiosity got the better of me. Perhaps I’d been drinking too much dumb bitch juice.

Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to a throne I had never seen before. It was close enough that I could tell what it was, but far enough that I could only see the whitish hues it had. There was someone seated atop it, the throne I mean. Their huge frame cast a shadow large enough to nearly close the immeasurable gap between us. They reared their head towards me in a languid fashion as if to draw my attention to the two great horns that grew on their head.

Was I in hell? I’d always imagined maddening screams, endless hordes of devils, and waves upon waves of helpless sinners who were all lined up for eternal punishment. I had always been fascinated by the occult, but it never stretched further than mere fascination. Now, in this strange and endless realm, I cursed myself, wishing I had studied up more on omens and bad dreams.

Suddenly the figure, who I knew was watching me all this time, spoke.

“Come closer.” The voice was that of a man. Slow, strong, deep, and dark. His words were tempting, each one ringing through my very soul. It was strange, to say the least. Part of me wanted to run, my common sense screaming for me to get away. However, instead of running, instead of cowering like a weak willed wimp, I took a step forward.

The dream would end shortly after that. I would then wake up in cold sweats, just as the sun would rise, unsure if I was ready to go about my day. However, each night, the dream repeated itself and each time I would get one step closer. It was curious, if a bit foreboding. It made my life more interesting, though the killer ninja flying around the city could also be called ‘interesting’.

---

There were a few familiar things that I noticed from some of the okiya’s clientele. Flak vests, dark clothing underneath, and forehead protectors, all bearing four small wavy lines. I wasn’t an idiot, I would hear the name of my homeland get mentioned here and there. Kiri, Kirigakure, the Village Hidden in the Mist, the name of my new home.

It seems my second life would soon be filled with turmoil, though I wasn’t about to face such trifles unprepared. I just hope my preparations were enough. Even that couldn’t prepare me for the events that awaited me.

Before I turned five, my Mother hand found out about my secret dancing escapades. It was rough at first, listening to her conservative rant about how my dances made me look like a common whore. At least I managed not to cry as I prepared for my punishment in silent rebellion. Afterall, I was a dancer who refused to be held down by the societal standards my mother upheld. Damn the consequences and questionable glances I garnered whenever I raised my legs in a ‘lewd’ and ‘inappropriate’ manner.

Apparently some men had taken an interest in my dances and asked if I was on sale. This of course, creeped me the hell out. What kind of sick twisted psychos wanted a night with five year-old me. It was an outrage I tell you, to find out that some loathsome lowlifes wanted a piece of underaged this? Frankly I was disgusted beyond belief.

Perhaps then I could understand my Mother’s worries. Afterall I was a child, a delicate flower who has yet to bloom into a fully grown woman. Sadly, pigs wearing the skin of men wanted me for my more glamorous talents. Needless to say that was the last time I danced on the windowsill.

Still, the Matron of the Okiya saw opportunity in my movements and intelligence. The old woman was a little too observant of me at times. Perhaps that’s why she interrupted my Mother’s rage.

I’m pretty sure she was a retired ninja with all inhuman speed and precision. She was elegant in her movements, and yet she managed to make it look effortless. Not a hint of stiffness in her body. I wasn’t dumb enough to try and find out more though. I refused to tempt fate in such a way. It was one thing to suspect a person's ninja identity, and it was another to try and confirm suspicions.

By the time I was six, things took a turn for the worse. Citizens from all over Kiri were brought forth to witness the Mizukage’s announcement. He announced that all children of ages six and above were required to join the academy this year. The announcement disregarded the caste system. It was an insane maneuver but one that was required.

My Mother, bless her heart, faint upon hearing the news. Her precious child would be entering Kirigakure’s ninja academy. It wouldn’t have been so bad of a reaction if it weren’t for the fact that the Bloody Mist had a reputation. A lethal reputation that demanded children kill each other to strengthen to increase their lethality and to test their loyalty.

Damn. I was going to become a ninja or literally die trying and all I had with me were dance moves. Oh Lord, I was doomed…

 

“Do you have your ink and brush?” My Mother says with a worried tone as she helps fasten the sash of my clothes. She sounded off today. There was no song in her voice, no lilt in her tone. Just pure crumbling sternness.

“Yes Mother!” I say in a chipper voice that hid my fear and trepidation.

“What about the lunch you made?” My Mother says this as she tightens the sash’s hold with a clip. Her voice was getting heavier with each question.

“Yes Mother!” I say this in attention as I look at myself in the mirror. I was a pretty girl with silvery gray eyes and straight black hair as opposed to my Mother’s seafoam green eyes and wavy red locks. I was very grateful to have inherited her impossible beauty, even if I was only six. I even had a beauty mark under my left eye.

I was dressed in a cute blue outfit courtesy of a very pleasant seamstress who was friends with my Mother. I smiled happily at the wonderful clothes I was wearing. I always loved fashion, you see. It was a small moment of glee that I cherished, soon to be squashed by the impending doom of the academy.

“And what of your-” My Mother was cut off by the calm voice of the Matron.

“Enough coddling Yuriko-chan, she’s going to be late if we continue dawdling.“ The Matron wasn’t a hag like most of the others in the redlight district. She was a short old woman with a kind face. Even though she was basically a pimp, her personality was that of a kind and loving one. A true grandmother to the girls of the Okiya, but her punishments were quite hurtful. I have no idea how the old woman was able to slap so hard.

“Of course Hanami-sama.” My Mother, Kawakami Yuriko, said this with an obedient if not worried tone. The look on her face did not betray her emotions, a true oiran indeed.

“Are you ready Tomie?” Matron Hanami asks this of me as motions for me to take her hand.

“Yes Hanami-sama.” I say this with finality as I take her hand.

---

The Shinobi Academy of Kirigakure was literally a sad conglomeration of broken concrete buildings mashed together, shaped like an unfortunate pile of particularly bland tortoise shells. There were vines sprawling all over the outer walls and dewy cobwebs on the cracks.

I take a deep breath as I say my goodbye to Matron Hanami, walking through the dilapidated doorway. I was calm now, my internal panic subsiding as I whistled the whistle song from Kill Bill. I didn’t know why I chose to add to the proverbial creepiness of the place, but regardless, the song helped me calm down.

There was absolutely no charm to this place at all, clearly the funds of Mizukage, if there were any at all, were being used for other prospects. I take my steps in a sort of strut as the footfalls of my shoes cause echoes throughout the hallway. Each step in dancing tune with the whistles of my voice. There was mist in the ruined halls of this so-called place of higher learning, it helped set the mood alongside the darkness and the sometimes flickering lights.

I wonder to myself as to who my classmates could possibly be. I didn’t know of anyone of note from Kirigakure that was the same generation as Naruto. I continued my musings as I reached room 103, this was my stop.

I sighed as I resigned myself to the possibility of dying or worse, afterall there were fates worse than death in the Naruto World. Anyways, as I entered the classroom the door creaked loudly and I was met with many stares.

I stopped my whistling as I metaphorically waltzed into the room to find that there were dusty seats. There were long desks and a large chalkboard opposite to the seats. There were two windows stained with what looked to be dried blood. Hanging from the ceiling were bright lightbulbs that would flicker ever so often. The children were split into two semi-organized groups. The well-dressed clans kids to the left of the room while the lower caste kids wearing crimes against fashion were on the right.

The clan kids were socializing amongst themselves, throwing jokes and jabs about which of the lower caste kids wouldn’t survive. Sometimes a clan kid would point at one of the lower caste and laugh, simply to get a reaction. Meanwhile the lower caste kids were scattered into smaller sects, most of them chose to glower and cuss at the clan kids while some just chose to play around. There was a definite tension in the air.

It was then that I saw him in all his blue-skinned glory. The sharkman himself, a man who would soon become an S-Rank Missing Nin. It was Kisame Hoshigaki, wearing his clan's signature gray and dark blue robes. He was sitting on his own and he looked ready to murder the next person that talked to him. Naturally I did the only smart thing and sat next to him.

Needless to say I garnered more than a few stares and whispers due to my actions, not that I paid them any mind. Well, except for one girl in deep blue robes. A girl that looked suspiciously like the child version Terumi Mei, the fifth Mizukage. She was giving me an odd look as I languidly looked towards the chunin instructors that entered the room.

---

The school day begins with different theories regarding the basics of ninja such as taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu. We were also taught about other forms of jutsu such as shuriken jutsu.

Then, we were taught hang signs and how they affected the chakra flow in our bodies. Were were also taught the rules of Shinobi and how they were paramount amongst the ninja of Kiri. Rules included but were not limited to:

Rule #01. "A shinobi must never show any weakness.”
Rule #04. "A shinobi must always put the mission first.”
Rule #13. “A shinobi must always watch their back.”
Rule #25. "A shinobi must never show their tears during a mission”

The list goes one but I didn’t have the time nor the leisure to list them all.

After class we were brought outside for target practice, running, and jumping drills. We learned how to throw different types of shuriken, senbon, and kunai. We were also taught how to properly handle poisoned weapons. We were then made to run laps around the misty field, with only the cloudy sun to light the way as we trudged through the mud.

Jumping drills were absolutely amazing. We were individually tested on our capabilities to provide a short burst of chakra on our feet. This would allow us to jump great heights and long distances across trees and what not. Though I wasn’t the best at it, I wasn’t the worst, and that in itself made me happy. Decidedly average jumping ability was better than no jumping ability at all.

Lunch comes rather swiftly after that and the beef buns I made are now cold due to the general mist and temperature of Kirigakure. I see Kisame eating alone in the misty courtyard and my heart pangs in sadness. The poorboy needed a friend. I understood his situation. I was also a bit of a loner in kirigakure. You don’t get to meet many good kids in the redlight district of Kiri.

“Hello Hoshigaki-san.” I say this with a kind smile as I hold my lunch pouch to my chest. We were forced to introduce ourselves in class. As such, I could use Kisame’s name without the need to worry.

“Kawakami-san” He says this with a mouth full of tuna and rice. Secretly I was glad he remembered my name. Though maybe he just wanted to know the name of the weird girl that sat beside him.

“May I eat with you?” I say this question with a semi-pleading look on my features.

“...Hn...” He says this and nods once before returning to his meal.

“Thank you.” I say this and I take a seat beside him on the bench. Hurray for progress!

We ate in silence after that, enjoying each other’s company until the next class.

The day ends with sparring practice and oh boy was I terrified. It was basically a devious excuse to let minors beat the everloving shit out of each other and I saw these kids drawing blood. My class wasn’t filled with normal children, it was filled with hungry chakra infused predators who were fostered to fight for the best spot or die trying. The worst spot was, I was up next!

“Kawakami Tomie versus Yuki Hakuryuu!” The chunin instructor shouts out as this clan boy with gorgeous features and spiky black hair moves to the ring at the same time as me. Lord help me, I was about to get my ass handed to me by an eight-year old.

 

How did things end up like this? One moment I was happily enjoying a lovely lunch with Hoshigaki Kisame himself, and the next moment I was thrown into a fight for my right to survive.

During sparring class, we were made to return to the ghastly gymnasium in order to be pitted against each other. The floor was now marred with flecks of blood from some of the more violent fights that previously occurred. The lights flickered to give a more horrific feel to this place. The air was damp and cold due to the mist as I was panicking internally.

The goal was simple yet brutal. Children were made to fight each other until the instructors saw fit to call a winner. I truly didn’t enjoy the competitive behavior that was instilled in us, but I had no choice in the matter.

Perhaps this Hakuryuu boy would let me go with only a few bruises, though the cold and serious stare he was giving me tells me otherwise. The Yuki Clan were known for producing ice cold obedient ninja with beautiful faces and black hair. They also had a Kekkei Genkai in the form of Hyōton, the ice release. I prayed to the Lord and all his mercy that this kid didn’t know any jutsu yet, because as far as I was concerned, I didn’t want to be subjected to a Thousand Needles of Death.

It was weird, time felt slower in this moment as we both waited for the chunin instructor to shout for us to begin. I had time to steady my breathing, and place my hand in front of me, just above the waist. It was the first position of ballet you see.

Meanwhile the Hakuryuu boy, who was in dark blue-green robes, entered a Front Stance similar to that of Taekwondo.

There was a silent understanding between the two of us. That I was weaker, and he was stronger, but that didn’t mean I was going to go down without a fight. Hakuryuu was in for a rude awakening if he thought I was going to make this easy for him.

“BEGIN!” Hakuryuu launches himself at me with surprising speed as the chunin instructor shouts for the match to begin.

‘Fuck!’ I think this to myself as I bend my back to an extreme angle to dodge. Hakuryuu is surprised by my flexibility but recovers quickly and goes for a spinning leg sweep.

I dodge once more by performing a Back Walkover and attempt to counterattack with a roundhouse Pirouette. Hakuryuu smirks as he blocks with his right arm while leveling himself. Then, in a fit of aerobic genius he spins once more going for yet another leg sweep. I’d forgotten how much the Yuki enjoyed their spin moves. At that moment I realized I’d overcommitted my attack.

“Ugh!” I shout out as I’m tripped. I had to get my back off the floor quickly before Hakuryuu had time to capitalize on my fetal position.

“Yield.” He says as he tries to stomp on my chest. What a dick!

“NO YOU!” I shout out as I spin while arching my back. This allowed for my hand and feet to get an advantageous angle as I literally spun myself into standing position. I was a couple of feet away from Hakuryuu now and the boy looked even more surprised thanks to my speedy recovery.

“You’re better than I thought Kawakami-san.” Hakuryuu says this in a leveled voice with a tone of maturity that doesn’t fit a child his age. His compliment/insult surprised more than it should have to the point where I paused.

That was a fatal mistake as Hakuryuu closes the short gap between us to land a punch to my gut.

‘SMACK!’

Suddenly I’m on my knees clutching my stomach and I’m close to vomiting the contents of lunch. How in the hell were his punches so painful?! He was eight! Oh god I almost puked and embarrassed myself. I really wanted to give up now, but something primal in me spoke of revenge. Still, I was completely outclassed by this kid and I was in no way shape or form ready to face him yet.

“Do you yield?” Hakuryuu is in front of me now, asking me if I give up. I controlled myself and spoke in a gasped whisper due to the pain in my gut.

“What was that?” Hakuryuu is in front of me now.

“I-I said,” I say this as I look Hakuryuu in the eye. “I yield…” I wasn’t going to cry, even though I really wanted to win. I was better than that. At least he didn’t land a hit on my face.

“Winner, Yuki Hakuryuu.” Hakuryuu gave a slightly raised fist in honor of his victory and calmly left the arena. Meanwhile over on the loser’s corner, I struggled but still succeeded in picking myself up.

Still, I was appalled by the fact that the instructors didn’t bother helping me up. Though the sole female instructor did approach me with a condescending smirk on her bland face.

“Good work there brat. Maybe next time you’ll actually manage to land a hit.” The repugnant bitch and a few instructors laughed at me after that. My feelings were hurt so of course I wanted to cry, but I wasn’t about to let these lowlifes get the better of me. I was going to survive this world no matter the cost.

Classes ended shortly after the rest of the clan kid matches and oh boy let me tell you about how vicious Kisame and Mei were. Kisame’s opponent was left to be a bloody pulp after his opponent called him a freak. Meanwhile Mei’s opponent was paralyzed after she hit the kid's spine. They were both fantastic in their own forms of cruelty against children their age. The Bloody Mist truly deserved its reputation.

Once everyone was packed and ready to leave I passed by Kisame to say goodbye.

“Bye Hoshigaki-san~! See you tomorrow!” I say loudly as he walks away from me, not even bothering to turn my way. It was rude, but understandable. He simply knew me as the weird kid that wanted to play with his hair and eat lunch with him. At least he got the message.


By the time I got home dinner and a hot bath were already being prepared. Yuriko, my Mother, was patiently waiting outside the okiya to greet me home. She was wearing a lovely black kimono today with white lotuses painted on to the dress. She was already in full makeup, with her hair done up in the traditional geisha’s style.

“Welcome home Tomie-chan” My mother says this to me in greeting as we both enter through the sliding doors of the okiya. Good thing I made it home before the red lanterns were lit, you never know when a sick fetishistic pervert would strike in these streets.

“Thank you Okaa-chan.” I say this in a morose tone as we both ventured deeper into the okiya to get to the bathing room.

“How was your first day Tomie-chan?” Matron Hanami would’ve given me a heart attack if it weren’t for the fact that I was used to her appearing out of nowhere.

“I…It didn’t go so well.” Mother and Matron Hanami both share a worried look before looking at me to continue. We all was

“Well…Most of the training was fine until the sparring matches.” I hiss slightly as I reveal the nasty bruise that Hakuryuu left on me. Right above my belly button was a splotchy red and purple bruise, hideous and painful.

“What happened Tomie?” Mother’s voice was that of calm fury, not for me, but for those that dare lay a hand on her daughter.

“They put me up against a kid from the Yuki clan, I tried to fight back but in the end…he punched me in the gut and I surrendered.” Mother takes my hand and I can feel the shakiness of her palms. She helps me get ready for the bath as she, Matron Hanami, and I all arrive at the entrance to the baths.

“I see…” If it weren’t for the fact that the Mizukage himself ordered the enrollment of all children six and above, I’m sure my Mother would’ve pulled me out of school.

Before Mother could enter the baths with me, Matron Hanami stops her.

“Allow me to take care of Tomie-chan’s wound Yuriko-chan, you have a client who will be arriving soon. Please prepare your shamisen in the meantime.”

“Of course Hanami-sama.” Mother left swiftly after that, though the angered look did not leave her eyes.

Once Mother had left to prepare, Matron Hanami helped me prepare for the bath in quick silence. The bubbles were comforting and the waters were warm but not scalding. The steam also helped to calm me as I entered the wooden tub.

It was then that I witnessed something astonishing, and Matron Hanami performed a few hand signs in slow succession before saying with a comforting voice.

“Suiton: Healing Waters.” Suddenly the water and bubbles begin to emit a calming green glow as my bruises and wounds were literally washed away by Matron Hanami’s healing tide.

“I knew it.” I couldn’t help but whisper it out as the relaxing waters healed my bruise away.

“Hm? Knew what my dear?” Matron Hanami asks this of me as she continues to heal my bumps and bruises until they are all gone.

“I knew that you were a ninja” I said this as I met her kind and knowing gaze.

“You were always observant for one so young Tomie-chan.” She speaks with knowing clarity as she leaves for a moment only to return with a sponge in hand.

“What was your rank?” I wondered out loud, not knowing that I was speaking until the words left my mouth. Regardless of what I

“Hm?” She questions as if she didn’t hear me. I think she just wanted to encourage me not to be shy like a good grandmother would.

“I retired under the rank of chunin my dear.” Cogs begin to whirr in my head as she speaks. A plan to survive and all I needed was her approval on the matter. I prayed to the Lord and Void that she would say yes.

“Hanami-sama, could you teach me how to be a better ninja?” I ask this of her with a pleading look.

“And here I thought you’d never ask.” She smiled brilliantly at me as she helped wash my long hair. It was a comforting sense of foreboding as I questioned what kind of training I would endure under the tutelage of a retired kunoichi.

 

During the first week of training Matron Hanami focused on full body training. My body simply was not prepared for the severity of what the old kunoichi had prepared. There were times when I felt like my body was being stretched well beyond its limit. There were moments when I felt like she was pushing my stamina beyond its limit. There weren’t even any brakes or rests between the exercises!

It was all mad I tell you, and at first I wanted to complain. I mean who wouldn’t want to complain about being made to stretch and contort into a small box? Who wouldn’t want to complain about being made to run laps around the redlight district at the break of dawn? All this combined with the fact that I had to attend Kiri’s bloody excuse for a ninja academy.

It was all so tiring and rough. I was close to giving up at one point, but then I psyched myself out of that train of thought real quick. I wasn’t going to give up, not when my life was literally on the line.

And so it was that I, Kawakami Tomie, resigned myself to train even harder.

---

During my days in school I would always try to befriend Kisame. They boy was a tough nut to crack, but I was persistent. I never relented in my friendly advances, because I knew what it was like to be alone with no one to turn to. The boy was a clan kid, but from the rumors I’d heard he was a blacksheep among the Hoshigakis.

At some point he cornered and questioned me about my motives. Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday.

Flashback

I was happily skipping on my way home when suddenly I felt a presence behind me. Naturally I thought it was some sort of pervert so I prepared to run. However, before I could even sprint I heard someone shout menacingly.

“Wait!” I knew that voice anywhere. It was Kisame’s voice, but he sounded more annoyed than usual.

“K-Kisame-kun?” I say this as I turn to see the blue-skinned boy in all his adorably menacing glory.

“I told you to stop calling me that Kawakami-san.” The boy is a little purple from my overly familiar wording.

“Mmmm. Nope~! Now, please tell me why you were following me?” While I respected traditional Japanese honorifics, I didn’t enjoy the fact that I wasn’t allowed to use people’s first names so easily.

“...Why?” Kisame pauses before he speaks. The clouds above the sky begin to roil as thunder crackles.

“Why what?” I stood there confused as his expression contorts to that of pure distrust. Even after all this time of trying to be a good person, he still thought I had an agenda.

“Why are you trying to befriend me?! Why do you keep treating me like I’m so special?! Why do you care?!” He’s shouting and the people around us are beginning to stare. We were in the middle of the street after all.

“Because I want to be your friend. Because everyone deserves to feel special. Because I want you to be happy.” I say this as rain begins to pour in waves. Though it didn't bother me and Kisame, we were denizens of the land of water afterall.

“...I-I still don’t trust you…” I could hear Kisame’s voice waver as I gave him a sad smile. We were both soaked due to the rain and I couldn’t tell if he was crying. Perhaps he was, or maybe he wasn’t. Either way, I couldn’t tell.

“You don’t have to. At least not yet, but maybe someday. Goodbye for now Kisame-kun” I say this as I turn to continue my journey back home. Mother would be furious if I caught a cold.

---

The next few weeks have me learning chakra control. This is where I excelled the most honestly. Matron Hanami says I have a lot of chakra, though I’m not sure if it was comparable to Kisame’s tailless tailed beast chakra.

Anyways, I learned how to concentrate by keeping water stuck to my forehead similar to Konoha’s leaf test. I learned that I had two elemental transformations as I split a chakra sensitive paper in half while soaking it in water. Turns out I had both wind and water releases, which were both useful in the long run.

I was also taught water walking, which was embarrassing at first let me tell you. I managed to stand up on the water, but then I got cocky and tripped on a rock and nearly got carried off by the current if it weren’t for Matron Hanami. I was glad the old woman was watching over me like the grandmother that she was. If not for her, I would’ve been carried off by the strong current even if I knew how to swim well.

---

Weeks turned into months and suddenly I was being taught how to dodge jutsu. This skill was useful no matter how much I complained to myself about it. Still, dodging water dragons wasn’t part of the shitty academy curriculum so I endured the training.

Still, there was a difference between Matron Hanami’s kind and outgoing personality as opposed to when she was my teacher. You see, Matron Hanami was apparently a secret sadist who turns into a cackling witch whenever she launches jutsu at me.

It would’ve been hilarious if I wasn’t the fucking target! Still, I can’t complain. Complaints get me more water dragons!

I wondered at how much chakra this old woman had and then I realized she was probably a veteran of the 2nd Shinobi World War. I made a joke about her being a part of the 1st war and that got me to dodge multiple water slicer jutsu while balancing a bucket full of rocks on top of my head! It was worth it!

---

The academy holds sparring practice at the end of each month, and each time I would get pitted against a clan kid who would beat my ass. That is until I won. You see it went a little something like this.

Flashback

“Funato Renma versus Kawakami Tomie!” The foul female chunin instructor whose name I never bothered to find out announced my opponent with a smirk. She probably put me up against Renma on purpose.

Funato Renma was a slightly handsome kid with slick back strawberry blonde hair and tan skin. He was dressed in a sleeveless red vest with a white shirt and gray pants. The kid had a mean streak against all his opponents. Always giving them black eyes and stepp on their throats until they were an inch from death. The teachers excused it all because he was part of the Funato Clan, a bunch of pirates who could control water at will, without the need for hand signs too.

I was suddenly very grateful that the arena was mist-free and completely dry, and that there was a strict no-jutsu policy with these spars.

“Sweet, I get to beat up the hooker’s daughter.” Renma says this to no-one in particular as he takes a step towards his side of the ring. Not that it matters though, I was going to beat him bloody. Nobody insults my Mother and gets away with it!

“Begin!” The referee instructor shouts just in time for Renma to rush towards me like a berserker. He was slower than Hakuryuu, but he was definitely physically stronger. The kid was packing some muscle for a 9-year old.

Renma tried to punch me to which I just tilted my head as I swayed to the side. It was almost laughable how much slower he was compared to a water dragon jutsu.

Renma simply grit his teeth and snarled as spun around to jab at me again. I sway and pirouette to dodge ahead of him, dodging once more.

“Stop dodg-!” I jab him to the right of his neck before he can even turn and finish speaking. He crumbles slightly to the ground and coughs out spittle.

“That looked like it hurt Renma-kun~.” I say in a saccharine sweet voice as he continues to cough. All the while I move and circle outward, giving about a couple dozen feet of distance between me and my target.

“You! You lower caste bitch!” He shouts out as he loses his temper and launches himself in an attempt to tackle me to the ground. He was moving faster than before which told me he was taking the fight seriously now. Not that it mattered, because I was taking him seriously from the get go.

You see, Matron Hanami might have been a medical-ninjutsu specialist, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know any taijutsu. These past few months of hellish schooling and training have taught me to perfect my dance into a unique taijutsu style. One that I would use to beat the ever living shit out of this horrendous child.

Anyways, as Renma was about to grab I performed a cartwheel to the left to get away. As I landed on pointe, Renma tried to switch his sprinting direction to grab me in a hold.

However, just before he gets ahold of me I bend my back quickly till my hands are on the floor and kick him square in the face as I perform a backwards cartwheel. Renma is sent falling backwards due to the force of the kick.

“Oh~! Looks like someone has an ouchie~. Want me to kiss it better?” I say this as the boy struggles to get up. I put some distance between us again as he begins to speak.

“H-How?! You’re a weakling! You’ve never beaten anyone before!” He shouts as he stands up with an angry expression on his face. I simply scoff and flip my hair at the boy. What a loser.

The fight continues after my bitchy silent treatment as Renma tries and fails to catch and hit me multiple times. All the while I was having the time of my life tormenting the poor boy. Perhaps Matron Hanami’s sadism was rubbing off on me. Regardless, it seems I tired the boy out as he was soon out of breath after the fifteenth attempt.

“Rargh!!” He shouts out as he fails to punch me. All the while I grab at his ear and spin while performing a twisting kick. The resulting hit causes the boy to fall to the ground. The boy falls to the ground with a groan and I daintily place a foot on his chest.

“Not bad for an oiran’s daughter huh?” I ask this in a sweet tone as Renma, who has his eyes closed and head to the ground, simply groans.

I take a look at the chunin referee who insulted me during my first day with an expectant smile. She had her jaw to the ground much like the rest of the instructors. I tilt my head to her in the hopes that she’ll announce my win.

“Ahem…Right! Winner, Kawakami Tomie!” The bland faced beotch announces my win, with a disbelieving look on her face.

I happily skip to join the rest of the class who are all staring at me with curious or hungry looks. Afterall, I was no longer one of the helpless victims in class, I was officially part of the competition now.

---

Remember the dream I used to have everyday? Well tonight, just after Mother, Matron Hanami and I celebrated my first sparring win, I fell into a deep sleep. It was weird, as soon as my head hit the bed, I fell asleep.

Once again I found myself in the expanse of the endless void, but tonight would be different. You see it’s been years since this dream started and each night I would get one step closer to the precipice of the ivory throne. Did I ever mention that the throne was actually made of skulls? No? Well now you know.

Anyways as I was saying, tonight was the night I would reach the skull throne. Some of you might ask how I knew, and I’d tell you I didn’t know how to explain it. It was merely a gut feeling. Like a curl in your stomach that wouldn’t go away. Something deep inside of me told me tonight was the night I would get to meet the master of this realm.

Now, on to the journey. You see, unlike the normal world, this macabre and beautiful palace had no color except shades of red. I could only see the throne during my first few steps but as I got closer I would see curious things. Creatures that could drive people. Horrors that could kill. Abominations that would infest the world. Demons that would destroy anything in their path. All of this realm filled my vision as these eldritch terrors slaughtered humanoid figures in the far off distance.

For some reason, I was left alone. The sole human in this sunless world as I trudge on what I now knew was bloodsoaked mud.

“It is time child. Come to me.” The thunderous whisper was heard throughout the realm and I knew in my heart that if I disobeyed, I would be cut down.

Still, there was a want, a primal need to find out more. My curiosity filled desire was amplified by my lust for survival. I knew that somehow, this great and titanic horned figure was the key to my survival.

With each step I took, I inched closer. There was no need to rush, as I wanted a satisfying climax with regards to the finale of my neverending dream. The eldritch figures around me grew in number as I drew closer to the throne. Perhaps it was a sign of power, or perhaps the demons were merely sycophants. Either way, they were not my goal.

I was close now. Instead of monsters killing hapless souls, I was surrounded by bloodstained bones. A foul place for some, and yet all I could think about was morbid fascination that this throne was somehow the Skull Throne of Khorne. However, the inverted triangle wrapped in a circle burning crimson flames in the sky said otherwise.

The scent of blood was thick and heavy, yet this metallic scent only increased my curiosity. I don’t know why I didn’t feel sick or why I didn’t cower in fear. Perhaps it was because deep in my heart, after all these years of trudging through this endless expanse of gore and suffering, I knew exactly whose symbols it was in the sky. I was afterall, a fan of Naruto. What kind of fan would I be if I didn’t know who Hidan was?

“You have arrived, child. You may stop your incessant narration.” I wonder what he meant by that. Either way the horned shadow titan was right in front of me now. I could see his body encased in nothing but darkness even as flames lit themselves all around us to provide some semblance of light and warmth. He spoke in a voice that was all too dark, bellowing, and seductive. Said voice nearly made me break down in worship of him. Then again, I’d always believed in the existence of greater powers.

“So it would seem…” I ponder before I continue. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Jashin-sama?” I say this as I kneel down and bow my head before the Naruto equivalent of Satan. There was no one else in the Naruto world who used that symbol in the sky. I knew it far too well. I’d even cosplayed as an akatsuki once upon a time.

“Curiouser and curiouser. A child from another world speaks of a God they have never met. Truly I was right to choose you, now rise my child.” His voice made me want to fawn and spend endless days worshiping him at the foothold of his throne. His dominant presence made my legs quiver and yet after all this, I did not waver. I don’t know how or why, I just didn’t.

“Thank you Jashin-sama.” I rose to my feet after that, still, the alluring darkness never ceased. The very sight of this demonic titan commanded respect, one that I was all too happy to give. Afterall, I was a fan of Hidan and the rest of the akatsuki.

“You are very welcome child. I have brought you here for one simple reason.” Jashin says this with his incredible and powerful voice as a contract and spiked ink brush form and float in front of me. “To offer you power beyond your imagination. To offer you all this and more in exchange for your servitude and soul.”

“I…” Was I really ready to sell my soul? Was I ready to make a deal with the devil, one that I might come to regret? There would be no afterlife and no going back after all this is said and done. There would be no heaven nor hell. There would only be Jashin…Strangely enough I wasn’t sure if I was okay with this.

You see, I didn't have any Kekkei Genkai. Other than the ability to dodge and the excellent chakra control, I still had no marketable ninja abilities. I needed an edge, something to put me above the average ninja. I needed something that would help me survive the years to come. Still, it would be wise to read the contract, I wasn’t a fool afterall…

I was to be Jashin’s priestess. His herald in the world of shinobi. In exchange for spreading his faith and my eternal soul I was to be granted three boons. The first boon was the ability to taste the ambient life force within my surroundings, essentially turning me into a sensor type ninja. The second boon would grant me the ability to create blood curse jutsu, like a true jashinist this thought excited me. The third and final boon stated that I gain the ability to summon Jashin’s children. A power that I was desperate to have.

All I needed to do was follow Jashin’s commandments and give him sacrifices. Still…It left one question on my mind.

“What of the boon of immortality Jashin-sama?” I ask out of sincere curiosity. Perhaps I was asking too much, then again it could literally hurt me to ask if Jashin was displeased with my words.

“I enjoy your presence, child, but if you want to gain my favor, you must first prove yourself.” I was nodding even before he finished speaking. Jashin was making a lot of sense to me.

“Well then Jashin-sama I apologize, but I must refuse your offer for now.” I wasn’t going to sell my soul that easily, afterall, the 3rd boon had yet to be revealed. Regardless of Jashin’s godly temptation, I was standing firm on my ideals.

Then, it’s almost as if time stops as the savaging hordes of eldritch abominations around Jashin’s world fall silent.For a moment I thought: ‘Well this is it. This is how I get thrown into the void again.’

I close my eyes for a moment, waiting for Jashin to smite me, when suddenly all I hear is laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA,” Jashin’s bellowing roar of a laugh has me quiver in anticipation as I peak out to see him take the contract and make it disappear. “It has been quite some time since someone has refused a deal with me. Though I must ask, to what end do you reject me? Do you really think you’re going to survive this world?”

“All I ask for is time. Time to think this through. Time to live my life without fear of the void. Perhaps one day I will accept, but today is not that day.”

“One day you will come to rue your decision. Once you are on the brink of death, when your soul is at its ripest, you will call for me. When this time comes, your soul will step before me once more, and you will beg.” Jashin snaps as flames take both the contract and quill, turning both into ashes beneath my feet.

Then, I wake up, with a terrible feeling. Perhaps I should have taken his deal.

---

3 Years Later

Today was the day of the Ninja Academy’s Graduation Ceremony. The students were all lined up like little soldiers and I was one of them. We were all situated in Kirigakure’s grand arena.

The place reminded me of Konoha’s chunin exam arena, except with a few key differences. For starters the walls were made of gray-green sea stone. Inplace of a grass-filled field we had mud and ponds of various sizes. The mist within the arena was light, but it could still obscure a whole figure when it got thick. There were also stands situated all around the arena. Though unlike the chunin exam arc, the stands only had a few people within them.

The most notable groups were the clans and the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. Now I know what you’re thinking. Why would people want to watch children murder each other in cold blood? Well let me tell you. The clans were here looking for future prospects for their children. Perhaps a young shinobi or kunoichi could have an arranged marriage with one of their children should they prove worthy. It was rare for them to pick anyone, though it still happened. As for the Seven Swordsmen well…They were looking for future apprentices. I could see chubby old Suikazan Fuguki, Kisame’s future teacher in the stands. The traitor was munching on some taiyaki while the 3rd Mizukage was giving his speech.

As for the speech, well, I wasn’t paying attention. It was all “For the future of Kirigakure” this, and “We shall be reborn as true Shinobi” that. All of it was vomit inducing tripe that I didn’t care for. I was more concerned that Kisame was staring at me throughout the entire speech. A girl like myself had to wonder about such things.

After the speech the Mizukage relocated to his special seat alongside a few Council Members. Meanwhile we were made to wait in the stands until our names were called out.

Suddenly I felt queasy. I was about to watch children kill each other, and soon enough I’d be made to kill a child as well. Even after all these years I wasn’t sure about this. I’ve been dreading this day and now that it has arrived, I was terrified.

I couldn’t help it if my hands were shaking. Suddenly I feel someone’s hand take mine. I saw my favorite blue-skinned boy had come to comfort me. I was suddenly very grateful for his spur of the moment decision. Even now Kisame’s face was purple as I gave him a thankful smile.

Suddenly my heart drops as I hear the referee shout.

“Hoshigaki Kisame versus Jingen Arata!” My grip on Kisame tightens, but he manages to pull away without making a scene.

“Please come back safe Kisame-kun…” I say this as Kisame before he makes his way to the stairs.

 

I'm moving the story to NSFW Creative Writing in order to have more freedom with the violent chapters I wish to write. Hopefully you all can understand the need for this as the topic of the Bloody Mist Graduation is a bit sensitive.