мοrι ηo κο 『森の子』

Prologue | | Thank You

》Dιsсlαιмεя: I own no Canon characters that shall be used within this story。Only the OCs, as well as the setting in which the beginning of this tale will take place。 All other things within the Narutoverse belong to none other than the marvelous, Masashi Kishimoto。READ ONWARD, LOVELIES!! ( ' ▽ ' )ﾉ《

〜〜〜＊〜〜〜

Some say that wood-style was a technique known exclusively to Hashirama Senju, the late First Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves; however, they were wrong to believe that way.

On the edge of the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Hot Water. There was a massive forest, known to the locals as Satoyama. At the center of such a place, there lingered a village whose inhabitants possessed varying skills. Their talents ranged from that in ninjutsu---where one would be required to use both physical and spiritual energy, or chakra; to kenjutsu---sword fighting; to the more common method: taijutsu---hand-to-hand combat.

The village was known as Kusachigakure no Sato, or the Village Hidden in the Meadow.

The most renowned clan within said village was the Nagamori. The common trait the Nagamori possessed was the color of their eyes: green, like the leaves upon the trees that surrounded them. The members were known, as well, for their Kekkai Genkai that derived from their not-so-distant relative, Hashirama Senju: wood-style. This blood trait didn't judge by gender, nor their appearance, rather by the purity of a man's heart. If a child was to be born with a corrupted heart, they would not inherit wood-style, rather . . . only one of the two elements: Earth or Water.

On the celebration of the Gurētomazātsurī, or Great Mother Tree, the village bustled with many. All were gathered around the twelve meter high beech tree. Its many branches veiled with dark leaves that hung downward, almost as if it were weeping.

Beneath the intricate plant, a young, blonde-haired girl stood against its trunk, her hand gently placed against its moss-covered bark and emerald eyes admiring it in awe from its protruding roots to the umbrella-like covering above herself.

"Life." she whispered, smiling to herself. "I sense your life, beautiful tree." A gentle vibration emitted from the tree and purred into her hand. It couldn't speak to her, but she knew it was a living being that enjoyed her presence.

"Mido-chan!" exclaimed a shrill voice from behind the four year old girl, however, she didn't bother to shift her gaze away from the tree.

Shoving aside the low-hanging greenery, the child rushed in. "Mido-chan," repeated the boy, as he latched his small hand around the blonde's arm. "Come on!"

The girl turned around and closed eye smiled at the dark-haired boy still holding onto her arm. "Isn't she beautiful, Masahiko-kun?"

Masahiko blanched as he examined the normal plant. "The . . . tree, Mido-chan?"

She giggled before nodding. "Mhm." she paused and extended her hand up to a leaf within her reach and traced her finger down its smooth edges. "She likes being told that."

The boy suspiciously narrowed his hazel eyes. "Are you . . . all right, Mido-chan?"

"Midori-chan!" yelled a gruff voice from outside of the tree's umbrella, causing the blonde-haired child to peek around Masahiko and look for the culprit.

"Dad?" she murmured, her eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Masahiko yanked the girl forward and out of the cover of the tree. "Come on, Mido-chan," he said, laughing. "They're about to start!"

Midori grinned as she was lugged towards the epicenter of the village. There was a huge crowd blocking their view to the small wooden stage that had been set up earlier, thus the two came to a halt at the back of the crowd.

"Oh no," grumbled Masahiko, looking over to his friend, a sad expression in his slanted hazel eyes, "how will we see him no---"

Both children let out a shrill squeal as they were hefted into the air and placed upon firm shoulders. "You two truly must stop running off on your own."

Midori giggled as she propped her elbow on the man's ebony hair. "Daddy," she said, running her other hand through her father's hair, causing him to peer his emerald eyes over to her. "Why aren't you helping this year?"

Her father released a sigh and shifted his gaze to the front of the crowd, examining the red-haired man standing on the stage. "It's Ichirou's turn this year, Midori-chan," he said, smiling to himself he took the center stage. "Your brother's been practicing for almost two years just so he could perform it in my place."

Ichirou was fourteen, ten years older than Midori was. His build was small, yet he held his own against an opponent in a fight. The lad's eyes were a vibrant shade of green with a gentle ring of sapphire blue around them. Like his father, his skin was a beautiful hue of olive.

Midori groaned as she propped her chin in her hand. "Is that why he always made me leave his room? So he could practice?"

Her father lightly chuckled. "Don't take his actions towards you to heart, dear, your brother wanted you to see it on this day just like the rest of the people here."

Masahiko leaned forward and closed eye smiled at Midori. "You're lucky to be a Nagamori,

Mido-chan!"

The blonde-haired girl glanced over at him and shook her head. "Hm mm. It doesn't make me any different than you, Masahiko-kun!"

"Are you crazy, Mido-chan?! You get to learn jutsu sooner than all of us!"

Her father suddenly released a loud, hearty laugh as he glanced over at Masahiko and smiled. "Has your grandpa been telling you old wives' tales about our clan again, Masahiko-kun?"

The child blushed as he crossed his arms over his chest and turned away from the two, embarrassed. "N-No," he grumbled, pouting his lip.

Midori's father carried his finger up to his deep pink lips and shushed. "Ichirou's about to begin the sequence of hand seals," he said, causing the two children to shift their undivided, amazed attention up to the tawny-haired boy standing on stage.

Ichirou released a quick puff of breath and stared at his feet, slowly bringing his hands up in front of his chest, he slammed them together. "Boar . . ." he whispered, performing the seal, "Dragon, hare . . . dog."

As the last seal was performed and its name uttered, he smacked his hands down on the stage and shouted, "Senju Art: Rise of the Fallen jutsu!"

The crowd of spectators felt the ground tremble beneath their feet and sloppily stepped away from the epicenter of the vibrations. "Ohhh!" they all exclaimed, amazed by the various roots and branches cracking through the earth and climbing upward.

Midori and Masahiko's eyes widened with awe as they witnessed the wooden substances form into an intricate masterpiece: an exact eight meter high replica of Hashirama Senju.

The crowd broke out into a fit of applause and excitement as the statue was fully erected and perfectly molded. "Amazing!" some shouted, while others whistled with glee.

Ichirou stood on the stage, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced between the statue and the eccentric crowd.

His sister, who'd been absolutely ecstatic about his performance, clapped her hands loudly together before cupping them around her mouth, as if to form a megaphonic effect. "Way to go, big brother! That was so cool!" she screamed.

Ichirou bowed. Standing upright, the boy closed eye grinned and waved to his sister. "Thank you, Mido-chan!"

The blonde-haired girl smiled back to her brother and glanced down at her own hands. Some day . . . she thought, clenching her frail hands into tight fists, I'm going to be just as awesome as you, Ichirou . . . just you watch.

〜〜〜＊〜〜〜

Okay, this was only the beginning, but I do hope you all enjoyed it! Feel free to vote as well as comment ~ I'm always open for opinions and criticism!

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆