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The Festival Before the Execution
🕑 Added 2025-07-02 16:35:19 +0000 UTCZukoma Village
Inside the sparse, prison-like house at the edge of the village, the air felt like it was humming with static. The current village leader, Kiharu Homu, stood outside the iron-bound door, hand raised to knock but hesitating for just a moment. He’d just received information that could change the fate of Zukoma Village either for better or worse and he knew there was only one man who could decide how to handle it.
Finally, he knocked and for a few seconds, there was silence. Then, from inside, came a shrill, impatient voice,“Come in.”
Kiharu carefully pushed the door open. The inside was as oppressive as ever with bare walls, a single flickering lantern, and in the center, Roku Amai sat cross-legged within his strange circle of metal rods. Even now, the faintest crackle of chakra lightning buzzed in the air around him. Kiharu’s hair stood on end as soon as he stepped inside. He bowed low, fighting the instinct to look away from the old man’s sharp eyes.
“Roku-sama,” Kiharu began, voice respectful but urgent, “I have a matter of great importance that needs your guidance.”
Roku made a dismissive sound but didn’t tell him to leave, so Kiharu pressed on. He explained everything he had just learned: the sudden appearance of a travelling auction house, the rumors that it had come all the way from the Land of Lightning, the swirl of speculation around the rare and dangerous items they had sold in other territories and finally, the new whispers that had sent him running straight here.
“They say,” Kiharu said, lowering his voice as if the walls could overhear him, “that the final item in this ‘small auction’ for the lesser villages is a piece of lightning-conductive chakra metal.”
He paused, hoping for any sign that Roku shared his cautious dread. But instead, the old man’s eyes widened and then his lips split into a crooked grin. Roku threw his head back and barked out a laugh that made the flickering lantern shiver in its glass. Kiharu flinched.
Roku slammed a hand on his thigh and leaned forward, eyes gleaming with something almost feverish.
“So this is the test and the reward! Those bastards, how clever.”
Kiharu looked utterly lost. He dared to raise his head. “Roku-sama, a test? You mean this auction is?”
Roku let out another sharp laugh, then clicked his tongue at Kiharu’s bewildered face.
“Two months ago, I reached out to the Cloud Village about my situation, my new power. I offered them my loyalty, even the entire village’s fealty, if they’d take us in. They sent an envoy, tested me, and promised that another test was coming. Pass the test, they said and we’d be accepted under the Cloud’s protection. Not just that we’d be rewarded with resources to rise above this pitiful little settlement.”
He gestured around his sparse cell, voice dripping with disdain. “What better way to test me than this? They put something precious right within reach, not too close, not too far and watch to see if I’m strong enough, cunning enough, and ruthless enough to take it and keep it.”
Kiharu’s eyes flickered with hope, but also doubt. “Roku-sama, then, this auction house is just a cover?”
Roku nodded, a spark of lightning dancing along the rods as if in agreement.
“Exactly. And they chose the location carefully, near Pihu Lake, closer to Shirakawa and Gokuyama, not so far from Ouchi and Narai. If I want that metal, I’ll have to slip past other villages, and their hyena like eyes and bring it back. If I can’t do that, I’m not worth the trouble to the Cloud.”
Kiharu’s face tightened with worry as he looked at Roku sitting amid the faint crackle of lightning chakra. The old man’s eyes were still glinting with that manic excitement, but Kiharu couldn’t help himself. He had to speak.
“Roku-sama, isn’t it dangerous for you to go yourself? You told me before that your power is still unstable. If you leave the village and get dragged into a fight-”
Roku’s eyes snapped up, not letting Kiharu finish, “No matter what, I have to go.”
He leaned forward, voice lowering, every word laced with resentment. “Some time ago, the Leaf Village found out about my technique. They sent an envoy to negotiate. Their offer was that I hand over my technique, which I was willing to do, but they demanded that once Zukoma merged with the Leaf, all our shinobi would be put on a five-year probation. Five years, Kiharu! They’d send us on endless missions for scraps, keep us on the fringes, starve us of their true resources.”
He sneered, the lines on his face deepening. “They’d never trust us. Never give us real access to their secrets, their strength. We’d be nothing more than fodder, we’d be mere disposable, like wandering ronin in shinobi clothing. One by one, we’d die on missions no Leaf shinobi would dare take themselves. And those who lived,” He exhaled a bitter laugh, “they would be no better than slaves.”
Kiharu’s also understood what Roku meant. He could see it too, the slow death sentence hiding behind the Hokage’s polite smile.
Roku’s expression hardened even more, if that was possible. “That’s why I asked them for time. But the truth is, there’s no real choice. If we pass the Cloud’s test, if I prove ourselves, they’ll support us in forming our own minor village. They’ll give us protection and resources for three years. Three years, Kiharu. It is enough to train the next generation, build proper defenses, and stand on our own.”
He paused for dramatic effect.
“In exchange, all they ask is for the technique, and for us to cause some chaos in the Leaf whenever they need it.”
Kiharu’s gasped in fear at that, in his view becoming an enemy of leaf was an even more dangerous thing to do so he spoke.
“But Roku-sama, isn’t that even more dangerous? With the Leaf’s way, at least we’d still exist. If we do it the Cloud’s way, we’d be branded traitors and enemies. How many enemies of the Leaf Village have survived besides the Five Great Nations, we’d be totally crushed.”
Roku shook his head firmly, “No. Once we stand as a minor village with the Cloud’s backing, the Leaf can’t touch us. If they do, they’ll face backlash from the other great nations, it is the same reason they haven’t wiped out the Rain or the Grass completely. They know it could spiral into war they can’t afford.”
He leaned back a little and saw that Kiharu wanted to speak further, he raised his hand stopping him. “Enough. We’ve talked enough, Kiharu. If our village, our shinobi are ever going to grow beyond this miserable backwater, I have to pass the Cloud’s test. And that means I must go, alone. No escort. If something goes wrong, I can slip away faster by myself.”
Before Kiharu could protest again, Roku’s hands formed a single seal. There was a flash of static, and in the next instant, the concrete cell’s owner vanished.
Kiharu stood frozen for a while then turned and left the oppressive room in silence, a single thought hammering in his mind, ‘If this gamble fail, there may be no Zukoma Village left to grow.’
~~~
The day of the auction arrived like a festival dropped in the middle of nowhere. Villagers from all around, from Shirakawa to Gokuyama gathered near the shimmering Pihu Lake, their eyes wide with wonder at the sight before them.
A massive tent had been erected on the lake’s grassy banks, so large it looked like it could swallow an entire street of houses. Silk banners fluttered in the breeze, each painted with the emblem of the Azure Dragon Auction House a name that now carried a mystique bordering on legend.
But what truly stunned the crowd was the sheer extravagance of it all. Rows of colorful lanterns bobbed overhead, casting warm light over performers and entertainers scattered about the entrance. Jugglers, clowns, and masked acrobats performed their acts with uncanny precision each one, unbeknownst to the audience, nothing more than one of Ren’s clones.
Even the elephant strutting near the tent entrance, a mighty beast with dazzling blue patterns painted on its flanks, was more fake than the butterflies that flitted through the air, perching on people’s shoulders before dissolving into motes of light.
The villagers whispered to one another in awe, half-convinced they were witnessing something out of a storybook. Who could have guessed a traveling auction house could pull off such grand spectacle? Some of the older men shook their heads in disbelief, muttering that even the local Daimyos' private banquets didn’t look this lavish.
Of course, the real mastermind behind all of this sat hidden in the shadows, thoroughly entertained by his own handiwork. Ren had started this entire farce with only a simple plan, a modest setup to lure out Roku without drawing too much attention. But somewhere along the way, the idea of putting on a truly absurd show had taken root in his mind.
Why hold back when his chakra clones could do anything? Why not see just how far he could push the illusion? And so, he did. Rare goods from all corners of the land of fire had been purchased legitimately, a few precious baubles from his own stash thrown in for good measure. And the crown jewel, the real lightning-conductive chakra metal, gleamed under heavy silk covers at the heart of the tent, ready to bait the trap.
When the hour struck its peak, a hush fell over the lively tent. The silk curtains at the grand entrance began to draw back with an ominous rustle and from the shadows, a giant lacquered ball, covered in painted dragons and swirling clouds, rolled slowly out onto the makeshift stage.
Standing atop the tent’s wooden dais, lit from below by flickering lanterns, was a tall figure draped in an immaculate three-piece tuxedo. The elegance of the suit clashed violently with the rest of him as his face was smeared with garish clown makeup, an oversized grin painted across his mouth and a wild, multicolored wig crowned his head.
He stood motionless for a heartbeat, letting the crowd drink in the absurd sight then, with the grace of a seasoned ringmaster, the clown swept into an elegant bow, the giant ball behind him coming to a gentle stop.
When he straightened, his painted grin seemed to widen unnaturally, and his voice slithered out, smooth yet tinged with an unhinged mirth.
“WELCOME, WELCOME, you hungry little wolves!” he crooned, eyes glittering under the heavy makeup. “Look at you all! So eager, so desperate that you’d sell your mother’s hairpin for a scrap of power, wouldn’t you?”
A ripple of discomfort moved through the crowd merchants, shinobi, and hopeful villagers shifting their feet under the weight of the clown’s words. He ignored their unease, voice dropping lower, teasing like a snake winding around prey.
“What’s the matter, hmm? Did the Five Great Nations forget you exist? Your precious Daimyo calls you vassals, your Kage calls you backups but tonight?”
He spread his arms wide, sleeves flaring dramatically as his voice rose to a crescendo.
“Tonight! YOU are the predators! The Leaf won’t stop you. The Mist won’t drown you. The Cloud can’t strike you down!”
Someone in the middle of the crowd found a shred of courage and yelled up, “Hey clown! Word is everything you sell is stolen from the Cloud Village! You trying to get us all killed, huh? You think they’ll just let this go?!”
A hush fell. The clown’s head tilted to the side in an unnatural, almost puppet-like motion. His painted eyes swept across the sea of faces, lingering on the man who spoke until the shinobi shrank back, suddenly regretting every word.
Then a single low chuckle broke the silence. It cracked into a cackle, then spiraled into a full, manic laughter that echoed through the tent. The clown’s arms flung wide as if to embrace the entire crowd in his madness.
“Ha! You can call us liars! Thieves! Scammers! Maybe we are. Maybe we aren’t.” His eyes gleamed with wicked delight.
“But the Cloud will come for us ‘tomorrow’, won’t they? After you’ve bought your futures and vanished back to your cozy little villages, who’ll be left for them to punish?”
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that somehow carried to every ear. “We’ll be here. You won’t. So why worry, hmm? When the wolves come sniffing, do they find the pack or the bone you already buried?”
He snapped back upright, that painted grin stretching wide enough to show his real teeth behind the makeup. “And do you care what happens to us once you’ve eaten, digested, and belched up your spoils?”
Another manic laugh tore from his throat.
“So come, come, come! Bring your father’s savings, your wife’s dowry, your clan’s last precious stash! Let greed strip your bones clean! Or walk away and watch someone braver become the monster you’ll fear tomorrow!”
Then, without warning, both the ball and the clown flickered and vanished, leaving nothing but a swirl of confetti in the lantern light.
A heartbeat later, a sultry, arrogant voice rang out from deep inside the tent, it was a woman’s voice, dripping with disdain and allure at once.
“The Azure Dragon Auction House is now open.”
~~~~~
{Some might call this chapter, but for me, it gave me a direction for Ren’s future.
Once again, hold tight, because the auction finally begins and ends in the next chapter and even the fight might begin in the next chapter itself.}
Comments
meshary hassan
6’3
Lucifer
I say 6’0 is good enough
