-Seals-
I admit to never be one for battle. It had not been instilled in me as a child, as my father had long ago decided to not steer me toward a kunoichi career. That is not to say that I was defenseless; no Uzumaki worth their salt truly is. The sheer range of seals that I had been taught and that I could perform could put many a foe down.
Yet there was always something about battles that did not appeal to me. The inelegance of it, a mess of arms, legs and blood thrown around… the clash of chakra and the resulting smell of ozone it left behind, or merely the fact that it made one lose control and shout, rage, push themselves until their faces were red and voice raw. An undignified ordeal.
Still, no one could say I was not capable of doing it… if the situation was to ever present itself.
.
.
It did not take long for them to reach the edge of the beast's territory, the punishing pace that Madara had employed nearly cutting their time by half. When they finally stopped, Mito was panting, her muscles screaming at her to simply flop somewhere in the cold mud and stay there.
He's doing it on purpose! What is he trying to show that I am not at his level?
She was about to leave a scathing remark when Madara suddenly tensed in front of her. To her right, Mito could see Kou slip a hand over his katana, his violet eyes shifting. Then she felt it, chakra signatures popping into existence all around them as if from nowhere. She could hear Madara swear in front of her, his hand slipping to the Gunbai strapped to his back.
"Tch, not these leeches again."
Mito was almost staggered at the sheer amount of killing intent emanating from the man before her, his dark hair seeming to billow on an unseen wind, waves upon waves of malicious power pouring out of him. It was an intimidation tactic that many shinobi used; she knew that, but that did not mean she was prepared for the sheer amount and effectiveness of it. As she spoke, she could barely restrain the tremble in her voice. "Who are they?"
"They're most likely the vanguard of the Hitoshirezu clan. They have a truly unfortunate kekei genkai that allows them to make their bodies, chakra, and presence invisible to the naked eye. They call themselves the unseen killers."
Mito nodded, filing the information away, her mind already trying to come up with a plan. If they could truly become invisible, then they could easily sneak behind them and kill them without before any of them could do as much as blink. So why reveal their presence? Unless…
Before Mito could do as much as blink, Kou's larger frame was in front of her, slashing at the seemingly void in front of them… only to have blood pour and a body suddenly materializing on the floor.
"Mito-chan, stand behind me."
Suddenly Mito was afraid. There was nothing she could do against an opponent that she could not see nor sense! Two more bodies fell to the floor behind them, and Mito could see Madara's glowing red eyes, the tomoe inside it spinning furiously. Could he… see them?
With a sweep of his Gunbai, he created a gust of wind that raised the dust of the battlefield. Suddenly, where there was previously nothing to be seen, Mito could count at least twenty figures advancing from all directions.
A few seconds later, the dust had settled and they were blind once more. Still, Madara looked calm. His Sharingan was activated, shifting from one direction to another. And then he was gone, lunging towards seemingly nothing, but hitting live bodies, slicing through flesh and spluttering crimson blood around him. He was a flurry of movement, moving from one opponent to another like a deadly current, each kick precise, each thrust of a kunai hitting its mark. Mito was mystified, entranced by his dangerous dance of precision. She could sense it, feel how each unit of chakra was used with second bursts, nothing left to waste, nothing out of place.
She had always thought that fighting was a messy, undignified business, brutish, and out of control. But Maara made it look elegant, the splatter of blood on the ground like the trails of a calligraphy brush.
In the blink of an eye, he was turning toward her, his eyes narrowing as he poised the kunai in his hand.
What is he…?
It happened so fast that she had no time to react, no time to feel fear crawl up her spine. One moment she was watching Madara, the next a kunai zipped right past her ear, embedding itself in the eye of a previously invisible man.
How did he see them?
But now was not the time to think things over. She was nothing but a sitting duck in the middle of the battle. She needed to do something; otherwise, she was nothing but a liability. With a quick motion, she grabbed one of the kunai she had, slashing her palm. The pain was instant, but she was used to that. Lots of the more complex Uzumaki seals required an offer of blood, a bond to tie the chakra of the caster with the seal formula.
The intent was known: trap, paralyze.
As the blood from her cut dripped on the floor, Mito pushed chakra in her right leg and drew a pentagon, the tip of her shoe smearing the ground with blood.
The anchor was set.
She had practiced this seal before, cast it numerous times in the practice ring, and worked to expand its range. There was no need for written codes, there was no need for long lines of script. The Uzumaki were the first to perfect the use of complex seals in battle. They could see the script in their mind's eye, and what they saw became a reality; their will was imprinted upon it, making them unrivaled masters in their craft.
With deft fingers, she weaved the seals, her eyes wide open, senses stretched as she modified the formula to exclude her two companions.
The trigger was armed.
With a confident smile, Mito slammed her hand down, a web of Fuin script erupting from her hand.
Itsubochi Fuin: Kousoku wana!
For a moment, everything was still, and Mito feared that she had, in fact, failed to keep Kou and Madara out of the formula range. But then chakra signatures began to flicker all around them, and soon the paralyzed figures of ten soldiers shimmered into view.
.
.
"You did well," said Madara. Her performance surprised him, to say the least. When they'd left camp that morning and he set his eyes on her, he almost scoffed. A high-born, silk used spoiled girl who wanted to play at being a warrior. It was such a lousy cliché that he could nearly laugh; that is if he weren't the one in charge of keeping her alive. But now…
In hindsight, he should have known better than to doubt her abilities. There were rumors about the Uzumaki, about their strength in battle and how one of their own was worth ten regular shinobi; how even a child of Uzushio was to be feared, for they could trap your soul and use your life to add it to theirs. All utter nonsense of course, but he figured that there was some truth to it. And now here she was. A woman that looked like she had never fought a battle in her life was the reason why they won so easily.
Mito focused on keeping her features under control. She always enjoyed praise, especially when it concerned her craft. And for it to come from an arrogant man such as him, well, it made the satisfaction double. But appearances had to be kept and it was definitely not proper for a lady to gush with glee or say 'I told you so!'— no matter the circumstance.
Still, she couldn't let this go unpunished.
She looked down at him from the length of her nose, an impressive act in itself since she barely reached his shoulder, and filled her tone with all the disinterest she could muster. "If you will, Uchiha-dono,we should return to the task for which I came."
For a moment, he froze, or maybe it was just something she imagined because a heartbeat later Madara inclined his head, and they started walking once more in search of the beast.
.
.
That was it. He hated the girl, he really hated her. She was a stuck up snotty noble that treated everyone like they were mud on her pristine boots. And worst of all, she treated him like that! How dare she? He was Uchiha Madara, leader of the Uchiha clan, master of the Mangekyo, and he will not allow this girl to snub him like that! His nostrils flared as he focused on keeping his anger internalized; least he would do something stupid and break his promise to Hashirama. The image of what his friend would do if his betrothed were to come to harm was enough to cool his temper. Instead, he employed the same punishing pace he kept this morning, smirking at her tired gasps of breath; serves her right.
"S-stop," said Mito, putting her hands on her knees and panting in the most unladylike manner she had ever done.
A few steps ahead, Madara turned, his smirk now visible. Her perfectly pulled hair was starting to lose control, wisps of crimson sticking to her sweaty forehead and red cheeks. He would bet his armor that this was the most effort she'd done in her entire life! Yes, this was what he disliked with nobles. They were soft, weak. He conveniently ignored her previous display just as she rudely ignored his praise. "Tired, lady Mito?"
She took a few calming breaths, trying in vain to bring her heart to a reasonable speed. A few seconds passed and Madara's smirk grew wider. Finally, she managed to bring her breathing under control and school her features in the usual half polite, half-mocking expression she usually used on Hashirama. "Not at all, thank you for your most considerate question. However, the beast we are looking for is in that clearing." She pointed a dainty finger to a nearby patch of smaller trees that were slowly thinning into a large clearing.
Madara's eyes narrowed at her. "How do you know that?"
Oh, how she itched to return his smirk. She will wipe it off his face and show him that she was anything but useless! "I—"
"Lady Mito is one of Uzushio's most accomplished sensors," cut in Kou, his violet eyes twinkling with concealed mirth. "Her skill is truly remarkable."
Her heart brimmed with pride. To be acknowledged by one of Uzushio's finest warriors was a privilege she was not accustomed to. Yes, she was a skilled sensor, but what good did that do when she'd never left the island? What good was sensing someone on the other side of the island when all she had to worry about was when her maid will bring dinner, and when her father will come and question her about future plans? Thank you, she thought while inclining her head and hoped that he could feel her gratitude. They were not connected, as he was probably with all other warriors that went out in the field, but she could still hope that her feelings reached him.
"Then we should be on our way," said Madara briskly as he changed direction.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Mito moved to stop him before she remembered herself. "Uchiha-dono, I would advise against it."
"Tell me, lady Mito, are you a respected strategist as well in your homeland?"
She should have let him go. Maybe if she were lucky, the beast would kill him. "Not at all, however the beast is currently unaware of our presence. If we want the sealing to proceed swiftly, then it would be wise to keep it unaware. Do you not think so?" She was challenging him and she knew it. It gave her a rush, her adrenaline spiking as she saw his jaw tighten and his brow twitch.
"Your plan?" said Madara through clenched teeth.
"I will keep my chakra masked and gradually restrain it. The creature is powerful, I can sense that. If it were to realize that a seal is being placed on it, then it will likely react violently. If this happens… it is better that it does not. " Mito didn't expect such a powerful creature. The waves of chakra it was emanating were almost burning her senses.
"And will this seal of yours work?"
Again with the doubt. It had to work. "It will. This seal is an ancient Uzumaki seal that has been passed down generations and has been taught to me by Ashina-sama himself."
Madara was doubtful, but it was his job, and in his nature to do so. How many enemies have told him that their powers were passed on by the Gods themselves, or that they will slay him with their powerful jutsu that has been in their clan for years? Too many to count. "And if it doesn't work?"
"Then, I am lucky to have two outstanding warriors with me." With that, she stepped ahead, hoping that she had managed to conceal the tremble in her fingers.
Mito kept her senses fixed on the massive beast slumbering in the clearing. Its power was greater than anything she had seen before, an accumulation of chakra and malevolence that filled the air. It was no wonder that it terrorized the shinobi, for such a beast could not be taken down by usual means. And neither could it be sealed adequately. No scroll could contain this much chakra. She will have to banish it.
With the tip of a kunai, she sliced her hand for the second time that day, dipped her fingers in the blood pooling in her palm, and began writing on the trees. With the first symbol done, Mito closed her eyes, envisioning the complex seal, and began chanting in a low voice.
I pay homage to the all-pervading Gods.
She moved sideways, painting symbols on all the trees, slowly creating a circle around the beast.
I am the embodiment of your power.
Oh, Violent One of Great Wrath,
Destroy!
Oh, Wondrous One,
Oh, Unstained One,
May the defilements be removed!
Oh, Immovable One,
Save us in the glory of the Deathless One!
The circle was almost complete, her humming voice hypnotic to the two soldiers behind.
I pay homage to the great Space Bearer,
Oh, Unfailing Gods, may the seal, space, time, and light evolve!
Blinding light erupted from the circle she had drawn, whipping her clothes and pulling her hair from the twin buns she favored. Mito fought to keep her eyes open, her chakra powering the seal before her. It had to work, it had to! She pushed more, giving it more, opening up her connection to the seal and letting it take what it needed to complete itself. The blood-drawn symbols lit up and multiplied, forming a circular barrier around the now awake beast. It began thrashing, pushing against the pull of the seal.
No!
I pay homage to the great Space Bearer,
Oh, Unfailing Gods, may the seal, space, time, and light evolve!
She repeated the mantra in her head, and each repetition added another layer to the seal. By her seventh time, she could feel her grip on reality slip away. With one final push, she felt the beast being pulled from this plane of existence and brought someplace else, in another world where it will remain trapped as long as she drew breath.
Then, all went dark.
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Translation
Itsubochi Fuin: Kousoku wana = five-point seal: binding snare
Also, the chant of the second seal is inspired by the Shingon Buddhist chants, especially the Mantra of the thirteen Budhas and the Light Mantra.