Desolation of the Caged Bird Chapter 49 - The Tale of Genbu

The moon hung over the night sky, bathing the world with traces of it's borrowed, stolen light. There, high in the sky, above the thick nimbostratus clouds, a vast shadow of a creature was cast its form over a land, and over a people. The clouds danced around its form, encircled its being, masking it from gazes. In so doing, never-ending rainfall continued in Tetsu no Kuni, pounding the Land of Iron with a ceaseless showers and afflicting it with foul weather. 

There, above the Land of Iron, wasthe secret of the ceaseless rain. A massive, gargantuan turtle. By all means, it was a creature one would anticipate finding in the depths of the seas rather than the heavens above. A turtle, watching from yonder high, as though it were a deity whose face had come to look upon its creation. This turtle’s name was Genbu, and this turtle, affixed with countless black rods into its flesh, was given the right and power to lord over the heavens itself.

In the silence of the night, a hand would slice through the blackness of space. A man would step forth, walking on the surface of the air, as he would regard the turtle in the air with a chuckle, and his gaze would glance down, sweeping the Land of Iron. 

“The view from the clouds truly is without equal, is it not?”

“Much better than the view from the ocean. There was nothing to see in the sea I had not seen before. How fares your evening, Master Wuji?”

“The world is quiet and still. It is the best time for recollection and contemplation. Or discussion.”

“You came to discuss the Dao with me, Master?”

“No, not the Dao.” 

His Byakugan flew down to the world beneath them. The man who should have led the Land of Iron, Mifune, no longer dwelt in his keep, having moved away into much humble dwellings. The castle emptied, the Samurai bore uncomfortable countenances, as rain battered them from dusk to dawn, and from dawn to dusk once again. 

“I wished to know what these lot have done that incited you to depose their leader, lord yourself over their land and bring your… fortuitous showers atop their heads.”

“Ah, it is an old story. One that you need not waste time hearing.”

“I have time.”

“Surely, you must have other important matters to attend.”

“I have clones to attend to those matters for me.”

“Clones?”

“Indeed. Hundreds of clones.” 

Zi Wuji smacked his palms together and created a long, black rod. He molded it as though it were clay, before it turned into a soft futon, and he placed it on the air, sitting with his legs crossed. 

“Senju Tobirama is a man worthy of my respect. The Shadow Clone Technique he created may outright be considered peerless, not only in this world, but perhaps in the Rain World. Even as I speak, my clones continue to build my Sect, my clones continue to practice calligraphy, my clones continue to refine artifacts, my clones continue to hone their fūinjutsu, my clones continue to write poetry, and my clones continue to paint, to sculpt, to practice and to improve. It is an oddity, even for me. Ten thousand things may be done as one.”

Zi Wuji turned his head upwards, to the sky.

“One can never be complacent in the art of cultivation, and one must always seek improvement, so indulging in leisure was a privilege I could never enjoy. Not once, in all my years in the Rain World, could I have told someone: I have time.”

Zi Wuji chuckled again, turning his head back towards the head of the massive turtle.

“For there was always a pursuit, always a goal, always a target. I strived, and kept striving. Biting, clawing, gnawing, scheming. There were too many things to do. So many, that even the lifespan granted by an increase in Realm felt inadequate. So many, that months were a blink, and years a haze. In pursuit of ascension, in pursuit of greatness, in pursuit of the pinnacle, I had peers, and I had enemies, I had rivals, and I had adversaries, but I had neither Dao Companions nor Sworn Brothers. For while there was time to cultivate myself, there was none to cultivate relationships. No, there was never time.”

Zi Wuji closed his eyes.

“But now, Genbu, I have time.”

A deep, rumbling sound came from the massive turtle. A sound like a cross between a sigh and a hum. “Indeed… you two are almost…” Genbu let out a rumbling laugh that shook the clouds like thunder. “Very well. If you have time to listen to the tale of an old turtle… this old turtle must implore you that the weather is dry, and speaking for so long often strains the throat…”

“I have brought something to wet your throat.”

Zi Wuji calmly provided a wine set, unsealing it with a wave of his hand. With another, one wine cup grew larger until it nearly dwarfed the clouds. It grew until it was suitable for a creature of Genbu's size. Then, he reached out, tearing a hole in space and dragging out a giant sake bottle.

“That is…?”

“Toad Wine from Mount Myōboku,” Zi Wuji said. “They have hundreds of such things sealed away to age. One or two bottles will not be missed.”

“Oh! Oh! Good! I cannot remember when last I drank wine!” Drool accumulated within the giant turtle’s maw. “Well… If you are offering, I will not be polite.”

Zi Wuji poured wine into the large saucer, and he poured for himself. There, and then, in the clouds above Tetsu no Kuni, a giant turtle and a smaller man lifted their cups, both of varying, heavily different sizes, and drank.

“Hahahaha! Good Wine! Good Wine! It does not compare to the wine of the Seven Fragrances Liquor God or the Plum Wine Saintess… but it has been so long since I drank such things that their taste eludes me. To think those old toads could have such mastery of the Wine Dao…"

“Seven Fragrances Liquor God? Plum Wine Saintess?” 

“Ah, should I tell you of them? They…”

“No, you can keep that tale for another time,” Zi Wuji shook his head. “For now, tell me about your connection to the Land of Iron.”

“It is an old tale, but…” Genbu’s voice hummed. “Five hundred years ago, a samurai hailing from these principalities was one of the greatest warriors in the land. Unequalled. Unparalleled. Unrivalled. He had an unyielding spirit that reminded me of a Cultivator.”

Zi Wuji did not interrupt, slowly sipping from his own cup of wine, as Genbu began to speak.

“With a sword in hand, and a single slash, hundreds would fall at his blade. Even the shinobi at the time feared him, for he could draw his blade swifter than all could make a hand seal, such that to encounter him was to encounter death at the roadside.”

“Yet, so it was, he had become enraptured with the Daimyō’s daughter, and wished to attain her hand in marriage. The Daimyō tasked him to go and slay the largest monster in the world and bring back proof before he would be wed.”

Zi Wuji lifted the cup to his lips, chuckling. “And he came to you?”

“He did,” Genbu said proudly. “But before he had, he met Matatabi, challenged her, and upon defeating her, she told him of me.”

“Matatabi?”

“You are not aware? That is the name of the Two-Tailed Cat. You have the Jinchūriki, do you not, Master?”

“All of them, except for the Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails, are in a suspended state sealed in a hidden chamber within the Heavenly Palm Sect,” Zi Wuji nodded. “Once Kushina’s time comes, rather than letting her pass the Nine Tails on to a new successor, I shall take it for myself and seal the chakra of the beasts into my body. There shall be no more Jinchūriki in this world.”

Zi Wuji slowly lowered his cup.

“But this knowledge… Matatabi…”

He closed his eyes, searching through a collection of memories from a life that came before. 

“Shukaku, Matatabi, Isobu, Son Gokū, Kokuō, Saiken, Chōmei, Gyūki, and… Kurama? He… named them? The Tailed Beasts… he named them? He considered them his… children?”

Zi Wuji threw his head back and barked a laugh.

“Hagoromo! To think my displeasure for you grows even still! To create life, imbue it with reason, emotion, sentiment, call them your children, yet have their sole purpose be to serve your true descendants as slaves…? What sort of father are you?”

Zi Wuji sighed.

“In the end, I continue to find myself acting to right that man’s wrongs…” He poured some more wine. “Still, it is a trifling matter. Genbu, continue with your tale.” 

 “Hmm. Where was I…?”

“The Samurai who challenged you, upon besting Matatabi.”

“Yes, him,” Genbu enthusiastically hummed. “You see, his swordsmanship was keen. In truth, I could sense traces of the Sword Dao within him. It was the only way such a man could, with nothing but a blade, take on a Tailed Beast and emerge victorious. Alas, it was only a small trace.”

The Sword Dao…? Zi Wuji’s eyes lit up. “He had potential as a Sword Cultivator?”

“Incredible potential. If this realm were not sealed, there was no doubt such a man would have gone on to become a peerless Sword Saint. Alas… in this Sealed Realm… even that nascent trace of the Sword Dao was not enough to reach such levels, not even by mortal Jianghu standards. Thus, he could never defeat me. With my defense, his sword shattered against my flesh.”

Genbu smacked his lips.

“Upon his loss, he cried, ‘Never before have I tasted defeat! Great Turtle, I thank you! Tomorrow, I shall come again!’ and so he did. With a new blade, he returned. Day upon day, he would challenge me, his sword would shatter, he would lose, and he would bow, and thank me, and tell me, ‘Tomorrow, I shall come again!’”

“For fifteen years did this Samurai do so, continuing to attempt to slay me, and continuing to thank me for each defeat. Eventually, his spirit moved me. That unyielding determination stirred me. I spoke to him and asked why it was that, for fifteen years, he had done nothing but try to slay me. Thus, he spoke of his origins, of his tale, of the task given to him by the Daimyō.”

Zi Wuji smiled. Fifteen years?

“Eventually, I asked him, ‘Do you not fear that in pursuing the task of killing me, your beloved will lose her beauty, her appeal, and be given to another?’ Yet,  he said, ‘Even were she to be gray of hair, and beset with wrinkles, never will I lose the love I hold for her. For she is the reason I wield my blade.’” 

Zi Wuji blinked. “A Sword Dao whose origins stem not from within?”

“Your thoughts now are the same as mine were back then. It was rare. Unbelievably rare! A man whose sword did not move for the love of the blade, but for the love of a woman! Hahahaha!”

Genbu’s laughter shook the air like rumbling thunder.

“It was so rare, I wanted to see how such a thing could exist, and what would happen if it were to fully nurture. I told him, ‘I cannot be bested, Samurai. But I shall give you my tail. Return and tell your people you have felled me, and go be with your beloved.’”

“I gifted him a portion of my tail, large enough to convince anyone that he truly had slain me. I communicated with several local sea creatures, and they aided him in transporting it back across the sea. Before he departed, he kowtowed to me nine times, wept, and cried, ‘Great Turtle, once I have wedded my beloved, I shall come again! My descendants, from now and always, will forever be indebted to you!’”

“To give an impossible task in exchange for a daughter’s hand…?” Zi Wuji muttered. “It could only be…”

“Indeed. The Daimyō had no intention of having such a terrifying son-in-law, who, with his strength and power, may one day aim his blade at his throat,” Genbu remarked. “For with just that nascent trace of the Sword Dao, he was strong, so strong that his strength was feared by all, but he himself could not see it. Upright, noble, though he had no ambitions in politics, few would feel at ease if a man like him were their enemy. Thus, rather than refuse him outright, fearing his wrath, the Daimyō had, from the beginning, sent him on a fool’s errand.” 

“No one believed he would ever succeed, and as it had been fifteen years, he was long forgotten. The one he desired had long been married to another and had children of her own. Children, born, in fact, the very year he departed.”

Zi Wuji fell quiet. He poured another cup of sake for himself, slowly drinking. He smacked his lips and then probed, “Did he…?”

“No. A Heart Devil did not take him. Despite his love being taken, through chance, he set eyes on the daughter of his beloved, whose countenance and demeanor were not only superior to her mother's, but she also held a love for the blade. In her, the Samurai found love anew.”

Zi Wuji laughed. “He could not have the mother, so he settled for the daughter? Truly?”

“Truly. Their union was fruitful. She grew to love him, and he loved her. However…”

Genbu's voice went grave.

“That era was in constant turmoil and war. All of the Daimyō’s true-born heirs were slain, his wife’s brothers. A war of succession, the likes of which none had ever seen, took place. He fought, heavily, in the war, not for the sake of the throne, nor for the sake of power… but to protect his beloved, who, as the granddaughter of the Daimyō, were she to bear him a son, his child would have cause to claim the title.”

“In that war, his foes had hired shinobi. The shinobi he faced on the battlefield would be the man who would be the progenitor of the clan called Nara. With cunning, he created a situation that had the Samurai’s wife trapped within a fort, and forced the Samurai to defend it. There, in what would be called the Siege of Ichimizu Fort, for twenty-one days, a Samurai held back an army of five thousand, his blade rising and falling, butchering purely for the sake of his love. His Dao Heart, purer than any other. His Sword Dao culminating in near mastery. Alas, in the end…”

Genbu sighed. 

“Hunger was his true enemy. The fort was not provisioned to endure a prolonged siege. That and his wife, at the time, had been carrying his child. Thus, it was for her sake, to give her a chance to escape, and to ensure his son would grow healthy and strong, that he made his final stand. His final sword strike, unleashed with it his Dao, his unyielding way.”

Zi Wuji smiled.

“I see.”

Zi Wuji’s gaze went down to Tetsu no Kuni.

“What came of the Samurai’s son? His wife? Did they make it to safety?”

Genbu did not answer.

“I see.”

Zi Wuji closed his eyes.

“That is why you continue to release your golden shower atop these lands. It is why you deposed its leader and threatened to flatten them if they did not swear loyalty to you.”

“Is it petty of me?”

“No. If you wished to flatten them all, I would not object. In vowing to follow me, your grievances are my grievances. If I cannot, with my power, aid in the grievances of those who have sworn to follow me, would I not have cultivated in vain?”

Zi Wuji shook his head.

“Do with them as you wish.” 

“Hahaha! Well said! Well said! Before, I could never do anything about this grievance, as I resided within the sea. However, due to you giving me the means to fly wherever and whenever I wish… this grievance can finally be resolved. To that end, I cannot help but thank you, Zi Wuji!” 

A spike of energy cumulated around Zi Wuji. Energy he had never felt before. It was neither natural energy, nor chakra, nor was it even Qi. It was formless, traceless, yet something that could still be faintly sensed. Zi Wuji’s eyes snapped open as the energy, twisting and turning in myriad colors, swirled around him for a moment before fading. He felt, then, within his soul, a stirring from the Karma Desolation Way Codex.

He reached out, grasping a wisp of the unknown energy, and holding it out in his hand.

“This— this—! This—! T-that is—!”

Zi Wuji turned to Genbu. “You know what this is?”

“How can I not know? That is a Seed of Law!” Genbu proclaimed. “Seed of Law! You have begun to cultivate a Seed of Law!”

Zi Wuji tilted his head. “Seed of Law?”

“You— it seems you are not aware! Control over Laws is a power only available to those who have crossed the Second Step…! It means all aspects of one of the Heavenly and Earthly Laws are within your grasp to command! Law!”

Zi Wuji was taken aback. “How can I cultivate this even without Qi?”

“Qi is only necessary for those at the First Step! The higher you go, the less needed it is! In the million years, across the Ten Thousand Worlds, there are those who, through extraordinary means, reached higher realms without a trace of Qi! Law is one means! By cultivating a Law, you will truly be a Second Step Cultivator!”

Zi Wuji stared at the wisp within his hand as his entire body trembled.

Second Step Cultivation…

“So… it is… The method of cultivating this… it appears it is…”

“Yes, you can sense it too? It is no doubt Karma Law,” Genbu let out a breath. “If it is the Karma Law, it would be unimaginably powerful. But the method of cultivating such a seed… it is difficult. I fear it may be too difficult. Truly, the process of cultivating a Seed of Karma Law is truly difficult! I cannot tell you what you will need to do to cultivate it to fruition, for in informing you, I may only end up misguiding you, as the Way that can be described is not the true Way.”

“I will need to go about resolving the karmic entanglements of others…” Zi Wuji muttered. “I have to aid them in resolving their matters, but I cannot do so directly, or else, I’ll invoke karmic backlash… backlash which could kill me.”

“You… you can tell?!”

“Yes. I can sense it… vaguely.”

“Hahahaha! Truly, I did not make a mistake in following you! Truly, I did not choose the wrong person to call Master!”

Zi Wuji stretched the wisp, turning it into a loop, and then the loop took on a glassy form as though it were a mirror. From within the mirror, several familiar faces appeared in front of him, one after the other. One, a woman with dark hair and dark lipstick appeared.

“Oh? Is she one of your partners, Master?”

Zi Wuji chuckled. “She is my junior-disciple sister. There is a karmic entanglement with her and…”

Another face appeared, a face with yellow, slitted eyes.

“Her former mentor. Orochimaru.”

Zi Wuji’s hand swiped across the mirror. The image changed to yet another young woman. One with large bosoms.

“And this one?”

“She is Senju Tsunade… There is a karmic entanglement between her and…” 

A white-haired man appeared in the mirror, and Zi Wuji did not know whether to laugh or cry.

“Orochimaru is alive, Tsunade cannot be killed, and even he too is still…? It seems the Sannin have their fates intertwined with either longevity or immortality.”

Zi Wuji shook his head, then he waved his hand across the mirror again. A man with black hair and red Sharingan eyes appeared.

“Your friend?”

“Yes. Itachi has a karmic entanglement between himself and…”

As he waved the mirror once more, there was nothing but a black, rotting tongue.

“Hm? I cannot see this person? They have methods of shielding themselves…? No, that is not it. I see… I also have a karmic entanglement with them, so I cannot see them clearly? Why would I have karmic entanglement with them…?”

He waved his hand again. However, the mirror turned into an ordinary mirror, reflecting the moon above. Zi Wuji’s gaze narrowed. His gaze upwards, to the moon.

“The moon…?”

“The moon? If that is the case, then… it may be due to…”

“Yes.”

Zi Wuji’s eyes shone with a mysterious, contemplative light.

“I see.”

He turned back to the mirror.

“Some of these matters I can resolve easily, but others…” His eyes narrowed. “Cultivating the Law of Karma requires me to aid others in solving their karmic entanglements, and they must acknowledge that I aided them, but the brunt of the act of resolving the entanglement must be theirs to take. This also goes in line with my Dao of taking action without taking action…”

Zi Wuji slowly laughed.

“Truly… in giving up himself, a sage preserves himself.”

Without a word, Zi Wuji rose to his feet.

“Genbu, this samurai in your tale… what was his name?”

“Bennosuke,” Genbu said, after a moment. “He bore no family name. He was simply Bennosuke.”

“Then, there will be statues built to Bennosuke, all across the Land of Iron. His name will be remembered on every lip. His tale will be told to every household.”

“You — you would honor him so?”

“Why should I not?” Zi Wuji clasped his hand behind him. “A seed of karma has formed between us. Had he never approached you, five hundred years ago, you and I would not have had this conversation today, and who can say whether or not it would have taken me longer to begin Cultivating Law?”

Zi Wuji looked upwards to the sky.

“Indeed, one can never know the culmination of actions, both great and little. Deeds done, even without thought, can ripple out and affect lives, hundreds of years in the future.”

“Indeed, across the Ten Thousand Worlds, there there is seldom such a thing as a life lived in vain.”

Zi Wuji slashed at the air in front of him, creating a dark portal. 

“When next I return, I will bring even rarer wine, and you will tell me of the tale of the Seven Fragrances Liquor God, and the tale of the Plum Wine Saintess.”

“Hahahaha! It is a promise!”

XXXXX

“Old man, another serving. No, make it three.”

“Mitarashi-san, you’ve… already eaten more than sixty dango in one sitting…”

“And?”

“I… wanted to close up shop. It is quite late… Mitarashi-san—”

A bag of coins slammed onto the counter. There was a pause. A hand moved, surreptitiously to swipe the bag, before the sound of heavy breathing filled the entire Dango Shop. An old man cleared his throat, tied his apron, and announced, “Three more servings, coming up!”

A snort came from a kunoichi sitting in the store. The only customer, she draped her arms across the counter, letting out a grumble, and then a sigh. On the outside, a few drunken shinobi rambled on, still celebrating and engaging in the post-war cheer of Konoha’s victory. The Uchiha Police Force, which would have usually been reigning in the worst of them, was just as excited, some just as drunk, and many just as happy.

For the first time since the village’s founding, an Uchiha was the Hokage. 

Can’t believe I’m going to be recorded in history as the teammate of the Fifth Hokage…

When I first met him, he was a little brat who couldn’t even reach the middle of my chest… a scary, quiet brat… but still a brat.

There was also the other little brat… He’s not so little anymore… 

They’ve both gotten what they wanted… whereas I’m still…

“Hinata did say you had a habit to binge on food.”

The woman sitting in the Dango Shop jerked as a voice, a person, appeared sitting beside her. A man with elegant, refined features, wearing an ornate white robe, with his eyes closed. Mitarashi Anko’s lips twitched.

“...You know, I used to stab people for that.”

“For surprising you or speaking to you?”

“Both.”

There was an appreciative hum. “Yet, you do so no longer.”

“Because your cousin refused to dig me out of the ground for three days the last time it happened.”

“Hinata can be very persuasive.”

“That’s one way to put it,” she snorted. “Aren’t you supposed to be building some giant sect or something in the Land of Lightning?”

“I am.”

“And, you decided to just drop into Konoha to pay a visit to me?”

“I did.”

Mitarashi Anko blinked.

“Is that so surprising?”

“...what’s the catch?”

He chuckled.

“Do you wish to kill Orochimaru?”

Anko’s brows furrowed. “Last I checked, you can’t kill someone that's already dead.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“As long as even one person remains with his Cursed Seal, he cannot die.”

Anko trembled. Her breath hitched. Her entire body shook. Whether it was with excitement, with hatred, with revulsion or with anticipation, even she could not say.

“You’re saying—”

“Do you want to—”

“YES!”

Anko screamed. 

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” 

Anko gritted her teeth.

“There’s nothing more… not a single thing more I would want in this world, than to put that fucking snake in the ground with my own two hands.”

The man beside her smiled. With a wave of his hand, he slashed at the air.

“Let us go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Where else?”

He declared.

“We are going to collect on a karmic debt.”