dedication:

Issei had felt it as soon as it had happened like a piece of him that had been wilting finally started to affect the whole of him, so he had to prune himself and cut off the dead piece to move on. The dead piece looked back at him with cold, frozen eyes. And the bones in Issei's hands shifted, his fingers breaking and twisting into strange shapes and folding in on themselves only to return to their natural state and start over again in a different way. It wasn't long before the bones in his arms followed, then his ribcage. From the doorway where his father watched him, he looked like an alien mass of flesh, pulsing, growing and shrinking, strange appendages appearing and disappearing. Appearing and disappearing. Just like he was. Issei was great at disappearing. He made all of his past disappear and all of his problems disappear and he tried to make himself disappear with them, to Konoha, to Iwa, to his studies, to his training, but they always came back and so did he and so he was always stuck outside his family's house whether he intended to be there or not. The river outside was small and usually went unnoticed but there in the black, icy night shrouded in mist the sounds the river made were the only thing that stood out next to the constant snapping of Issei's bones. He felt to his knees, still shapeshifting as he went, looking more akin to some kind of skeletal crocodile than a heartbroken human being. The piece of him, the corpse laying there on the bed, motionless, did not respond. Its legs and arms were as useless as they'd ever been. Issei's father was crying still but Issei couldn't hear anything, his ears were ringing to loudly to sense anything. His tail was starting to get too fast as it swung about, smashing a hole into the wall and then destroying the bedframe and nearly bisecting the corpse. It recoiled violently after it struck the bedframe, as Issei realized what he had nearly done, but instead of stopping moving altogether as he likely wished he could muster up the will to manage, it flew back and destroyed the desk behind him. Issei's father disappeared next, no longer watching from the hallway. Issei didn't bother to turn around. Death was staring him in the face and he didn't dare look away; it was a test of strength that was harder than any physical challenge that he'd overcome throughout the years, and he wasn't about to lose. Or so he thought...when in reality, he had lost the game before it even began. He was never in control, not of this, not of Ninshiki, not of himself, not of his ex-wife, not of the pain he couldn't forget, not of the things he couldn't understand. It just kept eating away at him. He was crying but the bones in his skull had started moving too and he couldn't breathe properly anymore as his face bent and folded and cracked.

According to Mizuto, Ena had been dead there for hours before he came home and saw her. She'd suffocated, had been laying on her side and managed to smother herself on purpose, or at least that's what Mizuto believed. She had been suffering for a long time and was reluctant to talk about it, and so when he told Issei what happened, the first thing he said was that she needed a way out of her misery and that neither he nor Issei were to blame. That didn't make Issei feel any better about it, especially when not even a few weeks prior, Issei had been very dismissive of her worsening health right in front of her. The worst part was, Issei understood, because had he been in her position, he probably would've wanted to die, too. In fact, he did, in that moment. He felt like it was all going to be over one day, anyway. Why couldn't that day be now? With her? As a coping mechanism, his brain was slowly pulling him out of reality and he was understanding less and less, but his body was in a state of pure chaos, his kekkei genkai running rampant and destroying him and everything around him. He started clawing at his own face with the sharp bones sticking out from his fingers until he drew blood. He couldn't breathe, his nose had been blocked entirely by reformed cartilage and his jawbone was locked shut. His own body had betrayed him and taken initiative to follow in his mother's footsteps. Die. Die. Die.

Mizuto returned to the room to find Issei struggling with himself on the floor, bloodied and frantic, his tail still whipping wildly around. The room had been wrecked and Ena's corpse watched the scene like a grim witness to her son's horror. Mizuto disregarded his own safety and moved towards Issei. Within seconds the tail came toward the man, smashing into his arm and knocking him over. He didn't say a word, just used his other arm to wipe away a tear and crawl closer to his son. He put a hand on Issei's torso, and a rib shot out, piercing the hand straight through the palm. Mizuto screamed in pain, but didn't move him hand, instead activating the secret ANBU technique Peaceful Stasis Palm. Issei looked up at Mizuto sadly as his consciousness started to slip. The rib that hard pierced Mizuto's hand returned to its place in Issei's chest, and all the other bones in his body slowed down significantly. His face put itself back together, and his tail fell to the ground, limp. In that moment, Issei genuinely thought that he was dying, and he was happy.

Until reality came back and ripped Issei from his peace, out of the light and back into the dark night there in Kirigakure no Sato, where he had spent too much of his life and where he felt most tired. I woke in the living room, on the floor, with his wounds bandaged. When he looked to his left, the door to Ena's bedroom was closed, and when he looked to his right, he saw his father standing over him. Mizuto didn't seem very forgiving. "Get out. Now." Issei got to his feet, though that wasn't without difficulty, and yearned to hug his father, but he resisted the urge and instead showed himself out. He crossed the river and continued walking until he got to the border of the village, and then crossed out into the wilds of Mizu no Kuni. He had a destination in mind, the dangerous swamp that was at the northernmost point of the island. He'd never been but he heard that between the terrain and the wildlife, it was a place where many civilians had died by accident. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he died there, too. It didn't take him long to get there, and he was sure when he arrived once he found himself knee-deep in murky waters and struggling to walk. The trees surrounding him were covered in moss and everything was shrouded in absolute darkness, since even the moonlight was hidden by the treetops. He heard howls in the distance, bugs buzzing around him, and snakes slithering in the plants. His left hand low to his side opened and faced forward, and his bandaged fingertips felt the petals of the water lilies, so many as he walked, that he knew they must have all been in bloom. He remembered that he still had one of the rebreather masks he'd created for the Ninshiki members in his back pocket, so he pulled it out and put it on.

The Kaguya spread his arms open wide like an angel and fell forward into the swamp, creating a big splash as he went under. The water lilies bobbed around him for a while before the water calmed and they eventually coiled their roots around his still form. Underneath all of their petals and surrounded by their roots, he felt safe. He was able to take his mind off of everything for a while, out there in the swamp's waters, which was the most comfortable he'd ever felt.

Of course, death decided that it wasn't time to take Issei just yet, and so Issei himself remained underwater as long as he could before coming up for air when the rebreather ran out, then he would bring his head up out of the green swamp waters just enough to bring his nose out and take a breath before going back down under. He continued doing this for half an hour, then a full hour, and three hours later he started to feel all sorts of things all over him. Flies, frogs, maybe mosquitoes, and something wrapping itself around his foot, so he figured that all of this life coming to him must have felt the dread that kept him in a mental prison and tore him apart. He placed his right foot into the mushy soil beneath him, but when he tried to put force on it in order to stand, he only started to sink, which caused him to panic and force his other foot down as well as his tail to push against the dirt. With a bit of sweat and effort he managed to free himself and fall backwards, ass-first into the water, which he was now chest-deep sitting in. He was exhausted, his eyes struggling to stay open, but what he saw inbetween blinks was nice. The moon had moved enough to find a space between the canopies, and a single ray of moonlight fell onto his face. The flying insects continued buzzing around him, sometimes catching that bit of moonlight and flashing in a brilliant array of colors before buzzing away just as quickly. Issei tried to imagine how ridiculous he must have looked, sitting there in the swamp, with a tail that was nothing more than an extended spine and hair that was a mess of dirt and moss. What had brought him there? Was there a reason for anything? No. It was just as he had always believed. Life was pointless.

It was pointless.

It was all pointless, everything he'd ever done, and everything he would ever do.

The shinobi's mind flashed back to the conversation he had with Maigo that day outside of the weapon shop, and he remembered what he had told Maigo then. "Just because something is pointless doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy it while it lasts. Everybody lives; some people seek knowledge, others power, most of the time both since they go hand in hand. The thing everyone really wants is stability. But tell me, once you die, what's left? You lose everything you ever had in life and you don't exist to the world, eventually forgotten like every ancestor before us. Tell me, what was the point if it's all going to end one day? It's not about me gaining 'value' from the fleeting and beautiful, it's about doing and experiencing things that I enjoy so that I can have a good time. There is nothing of value, in the greater scope of things, and whether you agree or not, my prerogative is not to gain anything from life because once it's over I'm going to lose it all anyway. It's a wonder I'm not self-destructive or suicidal...I think there's some kind of optimist in me, underneath it all."

He had lied. He was self-destructive and suicidal, to some degree. More so now.

But not everything he said had been a lie. He really did want to enjoy life while it lasted. It just hurt that someone he had loved so much and yet neglected so severely as of late was now dead, as she had felt so beyond help or any sense of catharsis that she ended her own life. Issei couldn't have that same path out. He had too many responsibilities, and as composed as he was capable of being, his responsibilities ate away at him, in more ways than one. They, personified in his subconscious, wouldn't let him die, so to speak. Issei was a shinobi. He still had to make Gekai pay for all that torture that he survived. He still had a mission to fulfill in Ninshiki. He had peers who needed him. So, he picked one of the water lilies' flowers, then turned and started back toward the village, strapping his tough exterior back on like a set of steel armor. His face was soaking wet, which helped to erase his tears. The Ninshiki mask had loosened and fell from his mouth, sitting around his neck, and his lips were shut and expressionless. What other choice did he have but to try and move on?

The front door to his underwhelming apartment unlocked, a clear sign of how much of a hurry Issei had been when he had left it earlier in the night. He closed it behind him and leaned against it, looking to his bookshelf and all the books he had written at the top shelf. On his coffee table were all his books concerning Yukigakure, Amegakure, Otagakure...a few "founding documents" he had drafted in his creation of Ninshiki, as well as copies of the flyers he had made to advertise throughout Kirigakure, next to a vase full of Narcissus flowers. He set the water lily flower down in front of the vase and brushed past the table to go to the bathroom. There, standing in front of the mirror, he gazed at himself, removed the bandages from his face, looked at all the damage: light cuts, a few deep gashes, some brushing, especially around his nose and mouth. It was a wonder that he wasn't in any physical pain, considering all his injuries had just been soaked in swamp water. He brushed his long, white hair back with his hands and lifted his shirt up over his head, removing it and tossing it aside. He reached for his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at it until it came out of every ring along Issei's pants. When it was free and tossed aside with the shirt, Issei felt the pressure on his waist lessen, and he unbuttoned the top button of his pants. Then came the zipper, which he brought his right thumb and index finger to in a pinching motion as he dragged it down, opening his pants up until they had no grip on his legs and started to fall. He stepped out of them, and dragged his boxers down after them. He looked down at his waterlogged socks and pulled on each of them from the tip of his toes, sliding them off with ease. He threw those into the garbage. It became apparent that the wounds on his body weren't isolated to his face; no, he was literally covered from top to bottom in various cuts and bruises. The hair all over his chest, lower stomach and legs helped cover some of the more disturbing ones, at least.

Tired of looking at himself, Issei ran a hot bath, letting steam fill up the room. He went back into the living room and picked up the water lily, and turned off the faucet when he returned. He stepped into the bath and sat back down, this time in the water feeling much warmer and more inviting. He placed the water lily on top of the water and watched it float about as the water slipped and stirred. He let his back slide down the diagonal edge of his tub until he was once again completely submerged, and he knew that in the morning, everything would be fine. As fine as it could be. Then came a solution, which was something that was a shock to him. It was a bit unbelievable, really, but it was something he could dedicate his time to for a better end. He popped his head back over the surface of the water and brought a hand to the water lily. Was life pointless if it never ended? What if death never came to him, and what if he could extend that same blessing to the people around him who desired it? It wasn't entirely unheard of. People were afraid of death, so immortality was a coveted thing. According to history books that Issei had read, there were a few forbidden jutsu and even a few medical ninjutsu that were capable of extending lifespan indefinitely, usually at the expense of something of the user's, or a sacrifice of sorts. Issei moved his hand from the flower to his face, examining it as the water wrinkled it and made him look even more aged than he already was. Could he find a medical ninja to help him on this mission? Could he learn medical ninjutsu himself for this purpose? Or should he rely on the dark arts and try to master a forbidden jutsu? If he really wanted to, he was sure that he would be able to access a forbidden jutsu scroll if necessary, or go an alternative route and seek out someone who could teach him one for eternal life. Perhaps the answer would be in front of him already, in the ruins of the villages he'd hoped to uncover and potentially restore. He'd successfully created chakra armor and a rebreather, so those feats in themselves were already impressive examples of what Issei's mind was capable of. The key to immortality could be in something similar to those items, buried away in a lost history or culture. Issei ultimately decided that this recent brush with death wouldn't discourage him from Ninshiki's goal, but it would postpone his hunt for Gekai. He, as founder of the organization, had a say in what actions they took and where they went, so with other shinobi supporting him in this endeavor, it only made sense to incorporate his search for immortality into it.

Once the white-haired man had scrubbed himself clean of the swamp's muck and stench, he exited the tub, leaving the water lily behind. The water drained from the tub loudly as Issei went into his bedroom, still naked, to gather old maps and two books, one on Yukigakure and one on Amegakure. Using the information before him, he took out a dry-erase marker and wrote on the wall, writing tidbits of information concerning old shinobi legends concerning immortality, other people who had attempted to achieve it, a few forbidden jutsu capable of extending lifespan through different methods, and finally a large map of the continent that nearly covered the entire wall. He started drawing the Land of Snow, plotting the point of Yukigakure with four small circles, followed by a small country inbetween three of the Great Nations, plotting the point of Amegakure at its center with four vertical lines. When the drawing was done, Issei capped the marker and dropped it before falling backwards onto his bed and staring at the ceiling. Darkness consumed his line of sight as the eyelids he had forced open for this long finally shut as a curtain call.

[ good night ]

words have to go to some use: