[The east of the Land of Fire, a camp by the border garrison.]
Civil war, revolution, a coup - every country goes through these at least once. Ancestors often spoke of such eras of change as something terrifying that, once passed, opened into a better, more peaceful life.
The Land of Water wasn't as rich and fertile as its neighbor - the Land of Fire - but it lived well enough on fishing, rice cultivation, and exporting sugar harvested from sugarcane.
If not for the high humidity and the waters washing every border, the place could have been named the Land of Bamboo, there was so much of it across their territory. It was the Land of Water that first popularized wooden chopsticks for eating - a small point of pride for its people. Still, it earned status as one of the great nations thanks to its warriors.
Both its shinobi and its samurai were feared for their ferocity and strength. Fear of a formidable neighbor protected their country - as did the status of one of the Five Great Nations.
That was then. Now, as such, the Land of Water existed no more. The blow came from where it wasn't expected - from the Hidden Mist Village. From the bulwark meant to defend them against the other hidden villages. The Fourth Mizukage, being a jinchuriki besides, should have been their country's hope for peace for the next two generations - and he became the very cause of its ruination. The annihilation of "traitor" clans was only the beginning.
The daimyo, his family, his vassals - one after another they were killed once the strongest clans of the country had been destroyed. Chaos and madness ruled the island, and as always, ordinary people suffered first.
Of course, not everyone watched their Kage's rampage in silence. Pockets of uprisings flared here and there, led by various clans who survived or escaped their brutal fate. Samurai who had lost their lord and the income that fed their families joined these bands.
The most desperate samurai - ronin by that point - turned to looting and banditry. Now, there were hardly any samurai left in the Land of Water. Many had lost their lords, and to preserve the status of samurai they could do only one thing - commit seppuku.
Only thus could they atone for a deceased master they failed to protect and hold on to a shred of samurai honor. Yet for all their loyalty, not all samurai were ready to leave their families alone in the chaos that had been their homeland.
Yarite Kurihara - a man of honor and a samurai who for years had defended and proven his family's renown - could not, at the last moment, take his own life. His code, his soul, his upbringing demanded it, but his heart begged him to think again - to consider the fates of his children and his beloved wife.
That day, standing before his loyal force of sixty samurai, he felt a shame he'd never known as he slid his tantō back into its sheath.
"I am unworthy of my ancestors' memory, and so I renounce my family name. The mission of my life - to protect Lord Mui - has failed disastrously. Therefore I am no longer fit to be called a samurai. O loyal brothers, I know you will understand me, and yet I consider myself no longer worthy to be your lord." In front of all his retainers, he broke his katana, acknowledging he was no longer worthy of that weapon. To his surprise, all sixty samurai repeated his action.
"Lord Mui was indeed our master - may Shinigami receive his soul and may he be reborn in a better world. But you, Yarite-sama, are our teacher, our second father, and the man we will follow anywhere." So said one of the four unit captains, and all in chorus confirmed his words. Never had Yarite, at one and the same time, felt such towering shame and joy in his heart. Then he understood he bore responsibility not only for his family, but for his warriors as well.
Unlike shinobi, samurai were raised to pledge loyalty not to a country or village, but to a lord - and losing that lord was like losing the meaning of life. If he had no heir, then aside from family and loved ones, nothing held them in the Land of Water.
For two months Yarite tried to test the ground - to sense whether peace might return to their land and when calm might come - but his experience and his understanding told him this would go on for several years at least.
To take example from those samurai who had forfeited their honor completely and started robbing and killing the weak - he could not even entertain the thought. Any attempt to settle even in the farthest reaches of their country could be shattered by a random shinobi raid - shinobi who might hire them or eliminate them as a potential force for the opposing side.
As for submitting themselves to shinobi, Yarite recoiled at the idea. To him, shinobi were little different from dishonorable bandits who killed purely for personal gain. In his mind, they might even be worse - shinobi mostly struck from behind, and if you challenged them to an honest duel, they would probably only laugh.
Thus the former lord, with difficulty, made the decision that they - he and the people who had entrusted their fates to him - could not remain in the Land of Water. His eyes turned to the Land of Fire, whose bright light always stirred envy in its neighbors. There was no country more calm and safe than the Land of Fire. So Yarite took the risk and led his people, their families, and his own across the sea to the neighboring state.
They had to sell their horses or slaughter them for food, to pay for the hire of several ships willing to ferry them. Because they left the Land of Water by the north, making a wide loop, the voyage took five days altogether.
The fauna and weather of their neighbor were just as described: warm air, neither too humid nor too dry; great variety of greenery; even the sky looked a brighter blue.
They didn't get far in their unhurried walk full of hopes for a happier future. Within an hour scouts of the Land of Fire appeared. They learned who they were, where they came from, and for what purpose, then soon left, instructing them not to leave the spot where they'd been found.
An hour later the border garrison commander arrived and ordered them to follow him. They came to a tract clearly visible from the garrison.
There they were allowed to set up camp and informed that until their status was resolved, they were not to leave the marked boundaries. As that commander - Okonuse - explained, their fate could take one of two channels: either they'd be approved and settled on allotted lands, or they would have to look for a new home. Fortunately, no one planned to kill them, and the shinobi weren't exactly hostile to the newcomers - more wary than anything.
The question of their status would be decided in Konoha, but as ill luck would have it, the matter dragged on. Four weeks passed with no news. Meanwhile food was running low. Things got so bad former samurai began offering their services at the garrison in exchange for food: repairing walls, cutting timber, hauling provisions. Of course they weren't let inside, but even around the base a few projects needed hands.
Still, the garrison couldn't feed one hundred eighty people. They turned a blind eye when some left camp to forage in the forests - but the woods, too, could not feed such a crowd for long.
"Yarite-sama, a caravan just arrived - three wagons!" One of the unit captains burst into the tent where the former lord lived with his family, voice bright with joy.
"Hmm. Then for helping unload, we might get a few supplies…" said the man whose hair now showed threads of gray.
"No, Yarite-sama, you don't understand. The caravan didn't go to the base - it came to us! Provisions for us! There's canned food, dried meat, hardtack, medicine, blankets, clothes, and soap."
At that news the commander-in-chief couldn't quite believe it. He hurried out with his captain to see the caravan for himself and speak with the men who had brought it here.
His old comrade hadn't been mistaken. Many were already helping unload the wagons, while children ran about nearby, eyes hungry and shining as they watched the delicacies being lifted down.
Yarite went straight to the paunchy man who looked like a merchant and the leader of the caravan.
"Greetings, sir. My name is Yarite. I'm in charge of this camp."
"Oh, and good day to you, Yarite-san." The merchant gave a short bow. "I imagine you've a few questions for me. By the way, my name is Akayashi Hoshiro."
"A pleasure, Akayashi-san." The samurai returned the bow. "You must be tired from the road. Allow me to treat you to tea."
The merchant cast a glance over the poorly-kept camp and gave a strained smile before saying, "I'll be glad to accept, but allow me to fetch something from my personal stores."
They took tea in the open air. The ground was covered with a clean, folded blanket, and a broad log served as a table with a cloth thrown over it.
"So you're saying all this… was brought to us free of charge?" Yarite asked to be sure.
"Yes. This is humanitarian aid from a charitable foundation based in Konoha," the merchant replied, nibbling a biscuit and sipping the steaming tea.
"I see… then the Hidden Village of the Land of Fire regards us favorably." Yarite found himself pleasantly surprised.
*Perhaps shinobi aren't as bad as I thought - at least not in the Land of Fire,* his reconsideration of old views was cut short halfway through by the merchant:
"That, I wouldn't be so sure about. The foundation isn't run by the village or the Land of Fire, but by a private individual. The aid goes to anyone in need across the country."
"But… we aren't citizens of the Land of Fire - just refugees. Why help us? And who is this distinguished person who decided to help?" Being a man of honor, Yarite felt that any help received should be repaid with sincere kindness in return. His father had taught him as a child: in a world where war and bloodshed are constant, every spark of goodness must be honored properly.
"The reason, alas, I don't know. I took this job to cleanse my karma. But I do know a few things about the founder of the fund."
Yarite immediately pricked up his ears, ready to carve the name of the benefactor into his heart - the man who had helped his people at a desperate time.
"His name is Zoldik Akira. In Konoha he's a relatively well-known figure. As far as I know, he's quite well off. By my own reckoning, his wealth rivals that of a mid-sized clan - a mid-sized clan in the Land of Fire," the merchant added for clarity. In his mind, clans of the Land of Water couldn't be compared to those in the Land of Fire.
Yarite ignored the little boast about his homeland's superiority and kept listening in silence. "What else… Ah, he's young, he paints, he's an author, and he's the most eligible bachelor in the village."
"Hmm. No surprise - young, wealthy, with a heart like that," Yarite nodded.
"Heh, those qualities are secondary. His popularity with women is due to his looks. I haven't seen him myself, but they say from north to south and west to east you won't find a more beautiful man in the world than Akira."
"He must have had very good karma in a previous life," Yarite interpreted in his own way.
"Undoubtedly," the merchant nodded. "There are also various rumors about him. Whether to believe them - that's for each person to decide."
Yarite didn't like listening to rumors - they rarely had any basis. But after four weeks here with no entertainment, he was ready to hear any information about his benefactor. Whatever it was, it wouldn't change his gratitude for the aid.
Seeing the former samurai wasn't against a bit of gossip, the merchant went on:
"There are plenty of rumors. Some say Akira is actually the son of a high-ranking feudal lord who renounced his status so he wouldn't have to vie for leadership with his brothers. I don't know if that's true, but I have read his book, and I can say with confidence he received an excellent, well-rounded education. Others say the Uchiha clan is under his command."
"WHAT?" Yarite couldn't hold back his exclamation, but calmed himself, remembering these were only rumors. Of course, being a lord, albeit from another country, he had heard of the Uchiha - their members were considered the most dangerous opponents in any war. He knew they possessed special eyes that could cloud an enemy's mind and even control it, so it was hard to imagine how such a young man could "subdue" a clan so powerful.
"Yes, yes, it sounds absurd - but there's a grain of truth in it. After the clan massacre, which you may have heard of, Akira became a close ally to the Uchiha who remained. Now he's even one of their elders and an adviser to the head of the clan - who, by the way, is a woman."
Yarite allowed that this rumor could very well be true - if Akira's reputed appearance matched reality.
The conversation went on for another half hour, until all the wagons were unloaded. The merchant declined the offer to stay the night and soon departed. Yarite informed his people where the aid had come from and from whom.
****
Fresh from the shower and wearing only a towel, Ayumi sat down on the bed. On it lay a storage scroll and a sheet of paper - instructions for using the devices sealed in the scroll.
Most of all, she was fixated on why one of the toys had two phallus-shaped ends. On the way home she'd built hypothesis after hypothesis. Now she'd finally decided to get to the bottom of it.
[Double dildo. Can be used with a partner between two women, as well as solo. For solo use, insert one end into the vagina and the other into the anal passage
(note: read the instructions on administering an enema - item 12 - and on using an anal plug - item 14).]
The truth was harsher than she'd expected. Ayumi, who had never even heard of such a thing as anal sex, felt dizzy just from reading how some of the items were to be used.
"I never thought the phrase 'busting my ass at work' would take on a literal meaning for me… Kami, what have I gotten myself into?" she thought in dismay, glancing back and forth between the scroll and the sheet in her hands.