updated: 08/01/2014

update: 17/01/2016 shortened the title from 'Shinobi Tales: Tsubaki of the Pen' to 'Shinobi Tales'

Chapter 1: The First Story

(three weeks after the death of Akasuna no Sasori, Pain's Tower, Ame)

THE WIND LASHED against her cloak and Konan resisted the urge to nestle deeper into the thick folds. A lifetime in the city of rain had inured her to the cold but the urge to seek an ever-absent warmth still sneaked up on her, especially when her emotions ran high. As if to mirror her unease the sky had darkened much sooner than usual, with thick, ugly clouds swarming over the grey expanse, casting the city into an early twilight.

You could barely see the neon lights of the nearby skyscrapers and as she approached Pain's Deva Path to where he stood under an awning, keeping a silent vigil over his city, Konan couldn't help but notice that, unlike the regular light patter, the constant rain fell in thick sheets today. This usually meant that Nagato was particularly troubled and she sighed, knowing that her news would only add to the discontent.

"We found this book when we were clearing Sasori's belongings. It's something I think you should read." she said, handing him a thin book with red and tan covers.

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(excerpt from the last chapter of The Demon Who Became a Boy and The Boy Who Became a Demon)

[...] In trying to dodge Katashi's summons, the pink-haired oni momentarily lost sight of the youkai himself. The mistake proved costly and the oni roared with pain as instants later Katashi's poisoned whip lashed at his side. Deep purple streaks marred the hardened skin and the cuts sizzled as the poison burnt through the demon's flesh. Sweat, blood and dirt covered its massive frame and the demon was now swaying on its feet, its left eye close and right arm hanging limply.

In desperation, the oni raised a nearby boulder and flung it at the red-headed youkai. His strength sapped by Sora's magic and the wounds acquired during the lengthy battle, Katashi vainly tried to drag himself away as the giant rock arched through the cave and fell, trapping his legs under it. Seeing her chance, the witch quickly silenced her chant and hobbled towards Katashi's struggling figure.

She knelt beside him then brought the youkai to her chest in a parody of a loving embrace. "Goodbye, my son." whispered he kuro miko.

"Mother… please..." Katashi rasped, holding Sora tightly even as the woman drew her weapon and plunged it into his heart.

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Pain closed the book and carefully set it aside. It was short, as stories go. The lives of two men laid out in less than sixty-four pages. From their birth to the death of one of the two main characters and the revival of the other: the fairy-tale death of a character fashioned after a man who had died in eerily similar circumstances less than a month ago.

"When was this published?" Pain asked, fingers tapping idly on the cover.

"Three years ago."

The answer was equally unexpected and unwelcome. "Are there others?"

"I've sent Zetsu for a copy of every other book he could find by the same author." Konan replied "Sasori's notes suggest at least five others: The Miko's Last Dance, The Oni of a Thousand Eyes, The Wizard Who Put a Kingdom to Sleep, The Three Brothers of Vice and The Prince with Eyes Like the Sun."

"And the author?"

"Unknown."

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(three years prior)

What does come after death? It's a question that has plagued theologians and philosophers alike and often comes after the equally unanswerable question: Is there a soul?

If only I were in a position to share my enlightening findings… You see, I was either born with a psychological condition which causes vivid hallucinations in the form of memories or whatever essence is the basis on my Self has managed to retain memories of two former lives.

I was born Yamada Tsubaki, girl, third child of the now widowed Yamada Hiro, headman of our little fishing village in Kawa no Kuni(1). I was also, to the best of my knowledge, Leo Rosetti, middle-aged man, coastal engineer for TERA, in Venice, Italy. Faintly - because these memories were sparser and somewhat harder to recall - I was also Gyeon Soo-Jin, teenage woman, small-time runway model out of Ansan, South Korea.

Having most of the memories of two radically different adults in the body of a toddler was, in turns, frustrating, mortifying and amusing. I would remember hating - and loving - the taste of fish, loathing - and enjoying - a good sarcastic remark, I would catch myself staring after some of the better looking young adults in village, both women and men and mentioning things that, for all intents and purposes, did not exist.

There was television but no telephones; there were explosives but no guns, trains(2) but no airplanes or cars. Chemistry, physics, medicine were a joke - or they would have been if not for chakra.

Chakra, the not so mysterious life-force my previous incarnations had read about in fantasy stories, an applied phlebotinum out there with antimatter, nanotechnology, runic power, soul shards or mana, apparently exists.

The fantasy stories, and more specifically, the tales of the shinobi Naruto, were suddenly becoming more like incredibly accurate historical accounts - incredibly accurate historical accounts of events that were yet to happen. And while it was an intriguing discovery, I had a hard time envisioning my position in the upcoming conflicts.

I (Leo) enjoyed playing shooters and fighting games and had encountered the Naruto franchise from the console fighting games. The story had been secondary to the very well-designed battles that were nevertheless easy enough to win after a 10 hour workday. I (Soo-Jin) was also a manga addict. The Naruto manga had not been my favorite , but the fascinating plots and interesting characters had kept it firmly in the top five. I enjoyed reading about the underdogs, the anti-heroes and the villains.

The end line however was that I (Tsubaki) was also five year old civilian girl with above average comprehension skills for my age but the chakra equivalent of a dog. The only active position I could take in the upcoming conflicts was that of casualty.

Whichever way I looked at it, I couldn't get physically involved. Soo-Jin's hormones might be egging me on to find a way to meet Nagato and sweep him off his feet and Leo's couch-potato battle-lust might be urging me to stalk Naruto until I got to see an "epic battle", but these impulses were so far out of the realm of possibility that they were easy to subdue. Interrogation - with a side dish of physical torture and mental rape - was a terrifying reality and while I desperately wanted to make my mark in history, I didn't want to become a smear.

When my eldest brother returned from Tanigakure no Sato(3) with a pack full of new books and scrolls - because I had already pillaged the village library and was ready to murder for something new to read - and tried to discreetly put aside a couple of orange books before handing me my stash, the proverbial light bulb lit above my head with the brightness of a hundred suns. If Jiraiya of the Sannin could hide messages into his pornographic literature, I could hide news reports, 'prophecies' and bibliographies into fairy tales.

My father, bless his heart, didn't blink an eye when I told him that I'd be moving with Tanigakure with Isamu - my second eldest brother - ostensibly to study (and secretly to become a writer). He had probably given up on me being a normal child the first time I tried to engage him into a conversation about chakra's influence on the laws of physics. Isamu himself proved eminently bribable. Homemade food and the keeping the place clean bought my futon and desk a permanent spot in his apartment.

I decided to start my literary career with something less likely to blow in my face than a shinobi S-class secret but somewhat more intriguing than Haruno Sakura's split personality.

After two months of toiling - the plot was all there and the characters were already fully fledged, but I had never shown any literary talent so hiding the truth in a fairy tale wrapping was proving harder than expected - I sent my first manuscript for publishing (out of my brother's money).

'The Demon Who Became a Boy and The Boy Who Became a Demon' told the story of two beautiful red-headed boys from the city of of diamonds and glass.

The first of these boys, Kazuki, was a hanyou, the heir to the king of the land. Raised in a palace, swathed in the finest of fabrics and given the richest of meals he had, nevertheless, been hated from birth by all of his father's subjects for his demonic heritage. The second boy, Katashi, was the son of the kuro miko Sora, a witch and one of the king's advisers.

While Kazuki would try to cleanse the darkness in his nature and ease the pain in his soul, Katashi would sell his own soul for power, learning and enhancing his mother's dark craft and, in the process, becoming less than a man.

In the end, Katashi would drain Kazuki's youki and turn him into a human boy while Katashi - the true demon - would die at his mother's hands.

As I prepared my next story, I wondered if the true protagonists of 'The Demon Who Became a Boy and The Boy Who Became a Demon' would read it, if they'd take it seriously, if they'd avoid the fate I remembered from Leo and Soo-Jin's memories.

I hoped, but doubted it.

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(1) Kawa no Kuni - The Land of Rivers

(2) appearing in Naruto the Movie: Ninja Clash in the Land of Snow

(3) Tanigakure no Sato - The Village Hidden in Valleys

Behind the name - Kazuki (one hope); Katashi (firm/hard)