Amegakure's Rainstone - The Legacy of Squad 5 ~ (Closed)

[Kali]

((This thread is meant to document the backstory of Shumi Kominishi. While not private, I would appreciate it if no one else posted in here even though some of the posts will be in the active setting. ^^ If you'd like to interact with Shumi, I'd be happy to set up another thread for the public active timeline. Thanks! ~))

When Shumi Kominishi woke from her deep slumber, the first of her senses to return fully was her sense of smell. Moisture. Wet earth. Wet stone. Then her ears recognized the gentle ping of droplets of water splattering against something softer. As her nerves woke up, she blinked once as those same droplets of water were breaking on the surface nearest her face and the scattered drops tickled her cheeks. They were cold. She inhaled slowly, oxygen curling into every sleepy limb. It was not a natural sleep. She had been heavily wounded in a border skirmish three days prior. Instead of letting the medical ninja work on her, she had reported she would take a brief leave for a single day, and returned to her home to practice her family’s healing arts on herself; an art that focused entirely on the rejuvenating effects of chakra flow. She was lying almost entirely naked in a block of dried wax. She could only move her neck and head; everything else was held in a tight mold so the chakra could set her body back into its place, mend, repair, and buffer her strength.

She relaxed. It took some effort to not want to struggle against the suffocating weight around her. Shumi waited for the fog to leave her vision as she adjusted to the dark room and then stirred her chakra through her veins. Her body temperature rose and the wax began to soften. Minutes later and she stood free, carefully peeling lingering strips of wax and clothing from her skin. She stretched and then did a quick examination. Her ribs were back in place and while the external bruises were still present, her internal damage had healed completely. Satisfied that she could return to the field, Shumi exited the underground cavern and headed for the surface where her village was waiting.

She stopped at the shrine that marked the entrance to the healing chambers and kneeled after lighting several sticks of incense. Once the holy fumes had filled the room, her hair suddenly unrolled in massive heaps down her back, darkening to a shiny charcoal black. She extended herself until she was flat in a pose of complete submission. She prayed silently for a few minutes and then returned to kneeling, meditating as the incense swirled. Her fingers traced the smooth surface of a rare Rainstone that hung from her neck. Her shoulders dropped as sadness overwhelmed her.

“It’s been nearly six years since you left for brighter shores. The magnolias are starting to bloom. I haven’t walked the rivers, but I hear the frogs singing at night.”

Her grip tightened on the Rainstone and her irises flared to a piercing red.
“You haven’t been forgotten. I will find him. I promise. I haven’t forgotten…”

She watched the rain pour down on the forest she called home. She tightened her ninja headband about her neck with pride. Once dressed, she stepped into the rain. It was a good day to be alive.

[Kali]

“Pick up the pace, Shumi! You’re falling behind!”
Mijirishou Kominishi, father to Shumi and Namkao Kominishi, whistled sharply.
“Transform!”

Both children were running side by side up and down two long pits of water. While the water was only about four feet deep, it was kept in a liquid state beneath freezing temperature by a water type jutsu used to help the Ame shinobi train in their chakra control.
Namkao, Shumi’s older brother, maintained his balance and used the transformation jutsu. Fate had not granted him the clan’s kekkei genkai. He was bitter about it, and it showed in his training and treatment of his sister. Shumi’s small hands clapped together as she also tried to transform. As the cloud cleared, her projected image of her mother was pale and sickly in appearance.
“Shumi! You think that would fool anyone?” Mijirishou barked, “AGAIN!”

Namkao raced silently onwards, his anger propelling him to keep at the exhausting task at hand. Shumi stumbled; her young body exhausted, and struggled to keep her feet above the surface. After two laps, her speed had fallen so dramatically that she had been lapped by her brother several times.
“Shumi!” Her father’s voice made her jump, “Brown hair, brown eyes, go!”
“Papa!” She cried, tears welling up, “I can’t!”
“Not with that attitude you can’t, or are you ungrateful for the gift bestowed so unfittingly upon you?” Hissed Namkao as he passed her yet again.
The tears broke down her cheeks and she stopped running to sign the jutsu to help her focus. Several inches of her short cropped hair began to turn shades. Numbness roared through every inch of her and before she could understand what was happening she lost control and sank beneath the water’s surface.
The temperature change was cruel. It shocked her, freezing her already paralyzed limbs. She opened her mouth to scream for help but the water rushed in instead, choking her, drowning her. Her father’s hand broke the surface as he grabbed her by the collar and pulled her out. She lay shaking on the shore, unable to move.

“Shumi, what happened.” He didn’t sound anywhere near as concerned as she would have liked.
“I… I ran out of chakra…”
“Idiot.” Namkao growled, “You would have drowned if Papa wasn’t here to save you. You must always be aware of your chakra supply. Always. I don’t even have your stupid kekkei genkai and I know that. You’ll never make it as a shinobi if you’re unsure of your limits. You won’t even graduate the academy.”
“I was trying to keep up.” She whined, clutching at her wet clothes.
“How is dying going to help you keep up?” Namkao was yelling now, “Papa isn’t always going to be there to save you, Shumi! And neither am I.”
“That’s enough. She’s just a child.”
Their father’s voice was stern enough to startle both kids.
“So am I.” Retorted Namkao, “But I don’t get to make mistakes like she does. You let her fall on her face and then comfort her. But because I don’t have what she has-“ he pointed angrily at her fading hair color, “I don’t get breaks. I don’t get second chances. It’s shit, really.”
“Namkao…” Shumi whispered.
He stormed out, slamming the door to the training room shut behind him.

Shumi’s father was silent for a moment, his brow twisting into unrecognizable shapes as several emotions flitted through him.
“Your brother is right. You must always be aware of your chakra in the same way that you are constantly aware of yourself, of pain, of pleasure, of your surroundings. Your chakra is a part of you – not just a tool to be used. Do not forget this. Go and get changed, you’ll get sick if you stay in those clothes. Your training is done for today.”

He began to walk away but paused when his daughter’s voice, wobbly with tears, stopped him,
“Are you disappointed with me, Papa? Do you wish that Namkao received the clan’s calling and not me?”

He smiled back at her for a moment, “We will make a kunoichi out of you yet, Shumi.”

She was seven years old at the time.

[Kali]

Shumi entered into the Academy at the age of eight. Her brother had entered at the same age and graduated within five months – an impressive feat that brought great praise to the Kominishi clan. Shumi knew she had similar expectations riding on her shoulders.

The morning of her first day brought on a level of bustle that she hadn’t seen in her home for a long time. Her father was cooking and whistling a hearty tune. Namkao sat at his usual place on their mother’s prized tatami mat with a dark scowl on his face. Chiriko, her mother, was flying back and forth stuffing flowers into every possible orifice in the room which resulted in a mad showering of petals all over the floor. She’d sweep them into an untidy pile, chattering happily all the while, before running through the pile and scattering it as she spied another undecorated spot. As soon as Shumi’s bare foot touched the landing, her father poured himself and Namkao a shot of sake.
“KOMPAII!” He roared, making the very rafters tremble.
Namkao tossed his into the atrium with a look of disgust. Chiriko darted to her daughter’s side, attempting to weave flowers into her hair while Shumi shooed her away.
“Today is a great day for the Kominishi clan. You are the same age as your brother when he entered the Academy and we know you will bring equal if not greater honor in your academia! I have prepared a meal fit for the Kage himself and you must eat all you can. You need to feed your brain, boost your chakra, lift your spirits-“ he paused in his speech to kiss his wife on the cheek, “and show Amegakure where your strength lies! KOMPAII!!!!” He thrusted the sake high into the air, “TO THE GREATEST CLAN!”

“How much has he had?” Shumi whispered to her mum.
“Too much.” She replied with a soft knowing smile, “But this is a very important day for him. He has worried over it since you were born.”

Mijirishou hiccupped while stirring a giant pot in the kitchen. He had prepared enough to feed the entire village. He loudly insisted upon everyone eating at least two or three bowls. It was heavily seasoned and by the end of the meal, everyone was perspiring from the spices. Shumi finished preparing a bento box for her lunch and felt her heart leap into her throat. It was finally here. She had been training for this day for so long.

“Shumi!” Her brother’s impatient tone hailed her from the front gate.
“Go. Your brother will walk you there.” Chiriko urged, clasping her hands as her husband squeezed into the doorway with her, wrapping an arm about her waist as he boisterously cheered his children on.

Namkao and Shumi were silent. Once they were halfway to the Academy, Namkao’s best friend Jino joined them. Namkao and Jino were genin together, but while Namkao had qualified and been selected to participate in the upcoming chunin exams, Jino had not and would remain a genin another year.
Shumi considered Jino to be a loud mouthed bully and avoided him whenever possible. That day however, he was unusually cordial,
“So you’re starting the Academy, huh kid?”
Shumi nodded silently.
“Ah well. It’ll be full of chumps. Just work hard and don’t slack off too much. I’m sure you’ll be a genin in no time.”
She dared to peek at him, surprised he wasn’t taking the opportunity to jostle or berate her.
“Thanks.” She said quietly after a bit of reflection.

“This Village,” Namkao said after another drawn out silence, “it needs good ninja. The other villages don’t see us as very much. We’re just a playground for their battles and the spawning grounds for a lot of rogue shinobi. To them, we’re just a ghetto hole. Work hard and graduate, Shumi. Show the world that the rain will do as the rain always does in time… wash away the grime and bring new life. They need to see us for what we really are…”
Shumi listened intently, biting her lower lip. Her brother didn’t talk like that often.
“I’ll do my best.”
“I expect nothing less.” He responded and paused to lay a hand on her head.
It was awkward for them both. They never embraced and he did not play with her or spend time with her outside of training. Yet the significance of his touch was not lost on her.
“I’ll go the rest of the way myself!” Shumi cried, running down the lane, “I will do my best, Namkao! Goodbye Jino!”

The two boys watched her disappear.
Jino wiped his nose on his sleeve, “What was with that?”
Namkao’s serious gaze wandered out to the stretching trees of Ame’s territory.
“Nothing.” He said.
Looking back, Shumi knew the event was anything but.

[Kali]

Fifty-three children entered into the Academy the same year that Shumi did. While she was the youngest at age eight, there were five nine year olds, and the rest were between the ages of ten and twelve. Within the first week, all but one of the nine year olds dropped out. The older children took a bit longer to leave, but in groups of one or two, they’d eventually depart. By the end of the second month, only forty-five children remained and it was this group that would continue on to graduate.

Between the three Jonin teachers that mentored the children, it took mere days for them to see that Shumi was advanced in her training to boot. This was not entirely unusual given her family and clan’s background, but what confused them was her utter lack of drive to excel and graduate early as her brother had. Every day she would arrive punctually and sit in the third row on the left side in the exact center. She took rigorous notes whenever a speaker or demonstration occurred, and raised her hand politely to answer group questions. She did not cheat, she did not get in trouble, and she didn’t play with the other children without encouragement. She was, all things considered, a small soldier. At the end of the first week, one of the teachers took her to see the Village leader. This clearly made her nervous and she asked several times with mild agitation if she’d done something wrong.

“Shumi Kominishi…” The elderly man greeted her with a warm smile.
She bowed with great purpose several times, “I-It is a g-great honor!” She squeaked, and stared intently at the floor.
He unfurled a scroll which rolled open at her feet. It was an ornate documentation of her entire clan. Her young fingers fondly touched her parents’ names before she looked up at the face of Amegakure.
“Am I in trouble, sir?”
A deep rumble rose in his throat, the closest he could come to laughing after years of chronic heavy smoking.
“Not at all, uteki.”
She seemed pleased with the name.

He stood by the window and they watched the rain pour down outside while he puffed continuously on his pipe for a while before rasping, “Do you know the fate of your clan, little one?”
Shumi fidgeted. She had heard Namkao talk about this before but never fully understood what he meant.
“The odds are against us.” She said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “For the blood is spread too thin across the crème of our crop.”
He appraised her with amused eyes, “And do you know what that means?”
She blushed deeply, “I do not, sir. But my brother speaks of it sometimes.”
“Namkao is foreseeing.” He nodded, “It means that not enough children in the Kominishi clan inherit the rare and unusual abilities of your kekkei genkai. Seven children were born to the Kominishi clan over the past ten years. You and little Naobi are the only with your clan’s birthright. So far, Naobi shows little promise for the shinobi world. She will likely follow a different path and serve her village in another field. No one could have predicted this and it is a difficulty we cannot dissolve with our own methods. As you well know, your uncle and his wife both possess the kekkei genkai of the Kominishi, yet none of their three children inherited it. It seems that the ability is to be seen as more of a gift or blessing than a birthright or gene.”
Shumi’s eyes fell to the extensive family tree on the scroll once more. She began to see it in a new light. Her eyebrows furrowed deeply, “You’re saying… my clan will likely no longer exist by the time my children… or really, grandchildren are around. In a few more generations, our ability will be gone. There aren’t enough babies. We will be as any normal family line with no distinguishing marks.”
Her eyes were large and full of rolling emotions.

“I don’t say this to scare you, little one. I say it to encourage you. Yes it is true – you are among the last stars in a dying galaxy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t shine as brightly as you can; not only for your family but for Amegakure as well. The Kominishi have produced some of the best shinobi that I have ever had the honor of mentoring. That includes your brother, you know.”

“You want me to graduate early.” She said quickly, her eyes darting up to meet his.

He swung his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. She was astute.
“I’m merely curious why you haven’t asked if you can. In fact,” He stated, fishing for answers, “You could take the graduation test today if you wanted. I will allow it.”

A look of defiance spread over Shumi’s countenance and she crossed her arms, planting her feet firmly,
“Namkao is very skilled, but he’s made one repetitive mistake that will cost him someday. It is a mistake I will not make because I intend to surpass him and his skill level. Speed in training and academia will only take you so far. What really counts is knowledge, and I don’t just mean from books and scrolls and jutsu and stuff.” She rocked back and forth on her heels, eyes closed as she lectured her Village’s leader while her Jonin teacher stifled an interruption of what he felt was pure impertinence coming from an eight year old, “My peers and classmates will be the other people on my genin squad one day. I will train beside them as I develop my skills. I will cheer for them in both the genin and chunin exams and one day I will fight beside them – my fellow Jonin – in protection of this village and the Amegakure legacy.”
Her eyes opened, irises flaring through multiple shades of passionate color as her excitement grew,
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. One of a ninja’s greatest assets is his intel on any given situation, enemy, jutsu, or location. The more he knows, the less likely he is ever going to be caught off guard. If a team is only as great as its weakest member, then I must learn everything I can beside my classmates. I must understand them and befriend them. Namkao has few friends, but I can write you dossiers on the families and clans that make up my peers. I will completely master the basic courses of the Academy, and when I graduate-” The natural chakras in the room rushed towards her, streaming around her in a solid invisible current before dissipating suddenly, “I will be the best. Namkao will see. Papa will see. Ame will see. That is my plan.”

Her teacher was stunned. The rain pelted the window ceaselessly for a few moments before the leader’s laugh loudly resounded about the room before he was choked up by violent coughing.
“Shumi Kominishi, you will not be a disappointment. When that day comes, I myself will give you your ninja headband. Let it be as you have said. Go and do as the rain always does in time.”
Shumi remembered her brother’s words and tightened her fists, “Yes sir.”

Her decision stunned her family. Her father could not understand what seemed to him like a lack of motivation and began drinking late into the night, studying old jutsu, and pouring over old scrolls, ignoring his family and eventually vanishing for days at a time. He would live to see Shumi graduate to the rank of genin at age nine and then die of cirrhosis of the liver a year later.

Namkao always blamed Shumi for his passing.