Coveside Cohorts

Haizansha Furasato

Haizansha Furasato

New member
Jul 24, 2025
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Overcast skies reflected limply off the waves lapping against the beach. The damp sand created a dark outline of the tide, serving as a warning. "To go further was to risk." Risk being swept away in the current, dragged under by riptide, to be swept away by the whim of the ocean. To go further was to risk.

The waves, dying as they did against the beach, licked hungrily at her ankles; clawed at her heels. Seafoam clung to her shins. The breaking waves beckoned as they ebbed, sang as they waned. A siren song to join so many other shipwrecks sitting silently on the ocean floor. They dared her to crash herself against the reef as so many ships before had. They whispered sweet nothings of release and freedom, of silence and earth-shattering sound. Her eyes, transfixed at some point on the horizon, flickered every so often back to her feet only to be drawn back to the point where the sea hugged the sky.

Why did it seem so close? That point where heaven and earth touched. She could almost reach out and touch it she felt. Brush her fingers against the clouds, wipe away the overcast sky and show the waiting sun behind them. Plunge knuckle-deep into the sea, fingers causing tsunamis to sweep away everything they touched. Her bones ached; a deep and thrumming pain that ebbed and waned just as the waves she silently struggled against. She could hear her heartbeat thumping in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. A countdown.

Haizansha tore herself from the horizon - wrested her mind free of the trance it had placed on her. This cove, which had gained the moniker of "Ship's End", was well known among the sailors and fishermen of Kirigakure. Sandbars and reefs made traversing it nearly impossible. Wreckage often ended on it's sands, spat out from the water as if to prove a point. It was due to this that she was there. Gathering those discarded splinters, those broken remains, the fractured skeletons of ships and the broken bones of boats.

Time passed toiling among the remains until a sizeable pile had been grown in the simple cart she had brought along. Fingertips brushed her lips and she briefly tasted the sweat of her hard work intertwined with the salt of the sea. The familiar taste reminded her of the previous trips and the fruits they eventually bore. Instinctively she glanced in the direction of her ongoing project only to be met with two firsts.

The first time she had seen someone else on this beach and the first time she had seen this man in particular.

Drawing a breath so deep her lungs cried out in protest, Haizansha steeled herself for a possible meeting. She had long since accepted her place in this life. A lower caste member of the village who still possessed not one but two kekkei genkai. The worst of both worlds. The hair on her neck stood on end as she attempted to look at anywhere other than the place the man took up. The thought dawned on her that it was unlikely this moment would pass without conversation; casual confrontation. The village was a bloody one, priding itself on weeding out the weak. To strike first was to strike last or so she was taught. A momentary flash of every time she had struck first crossed her mind. Even in conversation the first to speak was the one in control.

"Not many people come out this way." She struck in the way she had been taught: first.
 
The green-haired man approached the figure in the distance. In the Bloody Mist it was wise to approach any figure with caution, but Yoshitsune didn't want to let that mindset control him. He refused to let himself be governed by fear, and so he approached, even when he could have instead opted to take a longer way around. That didn't mean that he expected to be greeted warmly by the figure - it appeared to be a teenager - or that he wasn't prepared to defend himself. In a power-hungry world of prodigies even teenagers could be dangerous. But Yoshitsune was confident in his own abilities, and had worked hard to get this far. It was with awareness and preparation that he avoided fear. He could feel each footstep sink slightly in the sand as they brought him closer to the girl as he approached along the shoreline, walking across the length of the beach. He could feel the gentle waves, rolling in and out, lapping at his ankles and the ends of his long hair. The figure called out to him, and Yoshitsune smiled in response, raising a hand up to scratch bashfully at his cheek as he gave out a soft laugh.

"Domo, domo," he apologized. "I think I got lost. I was trying to use the sun to find my way back, east-west and all, but then it got cloudy."

It was, for Yoshitsune, the truth. He had a habit of not paying too much attention to where he was going. Maybe it was the aforementioned comfort that he felt in being personally prepared to handle anything that meant he didn't take any fear in ending up somewhere unknown. It was also at least somewhat believable as a justification; it did get very cloudy very often here, not to mention the mist that liked to hang low to the ground. One wouldn't expect a high-ranked shinobi to get so easily lost, but there was nothing specific about Yoshitsune that gave off the impression that he was such a thing. He was dressed very plainly in uncolored, well-worn fabrics. If anything, his clothes gave off the impression that he wasn't particularly affluent or well-to-do at all. But, if there was anything that might have given away his position to a trained eye, it would have been the easy confidence with which he carried himself, the way that he so simply approached and spoke to a stranger. In a place as turbulent as the Bloody Mist such a thing would mean that someone was either very brave or very foolish.
 
Unease washed over her. Gently pursing her lips she found herself surprised. A simple crease of her brow was the only tell that she was unsure of the cause of this unease. It was only after a few, precious, moments had passed that she realized the source of her unease was the ease the stranger displayed. The Bloody Mist was not a place someone could carry themselves in such a way without being able to back it up, at least not for long. Scanning over him quickly it was clear he wasn't old nor was he a child. Knowing what she did, she could only surmise that he was no fool who simply didn't know better.

"No need to apologize." She began, waving her hand dismissively in front of her face. "I just meant it as an observation more than anything. I come here often and this is the first time I've seen anyone else. This place is known as bad luck around here so most avoid it if they can." She put on an air of ease to mimic the way the man held himself. It was clumsily done - lacking all of the naturalness that came with confidence.

Shuffling her feet she turned only enough to eye past the man toward the way that he came. It wasn't directly in line with the treehouse she had hidden away but it was close enough to cause her worry. "Where is back? Maybe I can help you find your way."
 
Watching the girl, taking in the details of her posture and mannerisms, the keen-eyed Yoshitsune noticed that she tried to relax, just like he was. Her attempts were not as natural, though, and it caused him to snort, raising a hand up to his face to cover his mouth in an attempt to mask the slight laugh. It reminded him of his little sibling. After a moment to compose himself he lowered his hand, no longer laughing, but the slight smile remained now. He felt a bit more comfortable now.

He listened attentively as she told him about the place where he had ended up. It was all news to him; he had never been here before, and had never paid that much attention to maps without an express reason to be doing so. He felt like he vaguely remembered hearing about a place like this from one of the sailors at the harbor, but he couldn't be certain. There were probably a lot of places like this one around the Land of Water, graveyards for ships with no one to mourn them.

"I'm from the village," he said. Yoshitsune did not specify which village the village meant, because in this place there could be only one specific answer. If he had read her right, he expected that she was, too. The way she tried to mask her emotions spoke of someone that was trained as a shinobi, or otherwise had the talent to be trained as one. Either way, he would treat her with the respect - and slight apprehension - that such a thing deserved. "My name is Yoshitsune." He introduced himself casually, with no mention of his rank or the formalness of a surname. If anything, it came across particularly open and friendly.
 
At the mention of "the village", Haizansha's lips creased ever-so-slightly into the shadow of a frown. She had assumed as much and did not know how she would react if her assumptions had been wrong and yet having them affirmed left her in the same turmoil she had been in previously. She nodded, mechanicaly more than formally, and kicked lightly at the sand. "Figured as much." She said matter-of-factly. Sniffing, she was suddenly assaulted by the salty air. She always felt it smelled so much cleaner here. There was no lingering scent of iron with no lingering concerns of what the source of that smell could be.

Mulling over her response she wondered if it was even worth giving her name. She had spent most of her life without one and the one she carried now was one she had chose for herself. Was something like that even worth sharing? Absent-mindedly she ended up grinding her teeth before an audible "tch" escaped her lips. "Haizansha." She said her name in the way one would call an old, chained-up dog. Her eyes closed as the breath she didn't realize she had been holding escaped with one, heavy huff. A hand lazily moved to her hair, fingers running through the silvery-white strands before gripping the back of her head. She shook it almost defeatedly.

"Sorry." She started. "I'm just a little on edge these days. I don't mean to come off so rudely."
 
As she spoke, Yoshitsune continued to observe with his head tilted slightly to the side. His admission that he was from 'the village' seemed to cause a slight shift in the vibe of the conversation, which Yoshitsune took as confirmation that his read was correct. If here to venture to make another observation it would be that she was from the lower castes, like himself. He couldn't imagine any proud noble from a long lineage naming their child something like that, and given the way in which the girl said it, he couldn't imagine it was without some kind of personal baggage. "Well," he said after a long pause, "I think that's a good name." He was not sure how the girl before him might feel about her own name. Her tone made it certainly seem like it was a bit of a loaded subject, but the green-haired man charged forward heedlessly anyway. If it was a name that she had chosen for herself, then it was a good one. Such perseverance was an admirable quality in Yoshitsune's eyes, and even if she was sensitive about it, he was was selfishly insistent that it was worth stating.

Whatever her response to his light-hearted suggestion, Yoshitsune remained smiling softly. When Haizansha apologized for her gruff reception, Yoshitsune waived his hand as if to dismiss her concern. "Don't worry about it. If anything, this is a super-nice greeting. Way nicer than people like us usually get," he joked, though his sharp eyes remained fixed on her face, looking for any shift in expression that might follow his words. They were phrased to imply that they likely both possessed a kekkei-genkai, and Yoshitsune was interested in confirming if that suspicion was correct. He found it was genuinely best to be blunt about this kind of thing - most people would otherwise never volunteer such information about themselves very easily.
 
Her expression emptied instantly, face blanking at the statement. Slowly it filled with a smile of disbelief before overflowing in a soft, genuine chuckle. Arms crossed her stomach as she gripped at her sides before exploding in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. After a few moments she composed herself, shaking her head. "Thanks, I chose it myself. I didn't think anyone would like it but it fits me in a way no other word could. The way it wraps around me, weaves into everything I've been through." She closed her eyes and nodded once, twice. "You're right. It is a good name." She felt something well inside her, planting itself firmly in her chest. Confusion quickly cleared over it's source and she found herself dumbfounded. Pride; a feeling she wasn't used to.

Only after that seed had been planted did Yoshitsune continue. His words were metered she noticed and almost prodding in nature. It was as if he was saying just enough to pull her in. She eyed the man, his long, green hair, his almost-indigo eyes. Her gaze narrowed. Not out of contempt, anger, or anything of the sort, but because if she squinted just enough he reminded her of an angler. His words hooked and baited. Each sentence a thrown line attempting to catch her and reel her in. She felt, if under the right circumstances, it wouldn't be so bad to know a man like this. She couldn't help but wonder, however, how he had learned this kind of speech. What had he practiced setting his hooks in before?

"Us?" She nearly scoffed but her manners didn't allow her. "I doubt we have as much in common as you might think. I'd be surprised if I ever met someone else the same as me to be honest." She wasn't sure if it was due to the ease in which he held himself, the hooks of his words, or her own, desparate need to vent but she couldn't stop the words from coming. "The village doesn't have room for many mutts these days."
 
In the ebb-and-flow of this conversation, Yoshitsune felt almost like a bystander. Watching the girl almost double over laughing, he felt almost as if he was spectating a conversation. Not one that she was having with another person, but one that she seemed to be having with herself. That wasn't a bad thing, he just figured it was the kind of thing that most people did in private, if at all. And yet here she was, doing so openly through her actions if not her words. Was it because she was simply that forthcoming a person, to wear all her emotions on her sleeve? Or was it because Yoshitsune was just such a good instigator with such a good grasp of psychology as to be able to induce such reflection in her now? He preferred the second answer, just because it stroked his own ego.

Eventually it seemed that Haizansha was able to compose herself, agreeing with his assertion that it was a good name. She nodded, and Yoshitsune nodded also in reply, sagely, as if the words he had spoken had indeed been of great value. "Oh, that's true," he readily agreed to her assertion that he had never met anyone like her before. "I've never met someone who has chosen their own name before. How very metal," he complimented, either oblivious to her implied meaning or choosing to ignore it. With a motion of his hand Yoshitsune indicated for Haizansha to begin leading him back towards the village as they talked. "In my experience the village is pretty small in general. I don't think it could fit a lot of things in it, optimism included."
 
The seed of pride in her chest quickly withered as Yoshitsune motioned toward the village. She knew what awaited her there and how unlikely pride was to mean anything. Turning to the pile of splinters and shipwreck salvage that she had gathered for her treehouse she was met with a decision to make. She could leave it there, let it be swept back into the sea, and return to the village or she could take a chance in order to drop off the new materials. The haul today was particularly good she noted and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Making up her mind, Haizansha slapped the small cart with the back of her hand.

"I've got a detour to make first." She gently tugged the cart along behind her, passing by Yoshitsune at an angle that led away from the village and deeper into the nearby trees. "If you can't find your way to the village on your own feel free to join me if you want. I'll be heading back once I finish a few things. I've been working on a project for a while y'see." The idea of finally sharing the treehouse with someone was inherently exciting she noticed. She hadn't even shown it to Nanashi yet as it wasn't finished. She had been building it for the two of them after all, what kind of partner would she be if she presented something incomplete? Nanashi deserved more than that. The thought redoubled her confidence that this was the right choice.

Or was it? Was it smart to show what amounted to a stranger her treehouse? Was it safe to share it's location with someone whose name was all she knew? She stopped and turned back toward him, a stern look in her eyes.

"Should I trust you?"
 
While in many ways he was a competent shinobi - though he would not call himself particularly dignified - it was not a falsehood that he was lost. Sure, if he really cared to, he could figure out and memorize a map of the region, but he really didn't care to. He had no reason to. As a result, following Haizansha, even if she were to take a detour, was likely still the fastest way back to the village. Yoshitsune gave a nod of assent. He viewed, with some amount of obvious interest on his face, the cart full of assembled scavenged material that the girl had assembled. At first he might have guessed that she earned a little extra cash selling the scavenge, but the fact they were making a detour rather than returning to the village made him second-guess that assumption. Otherwise it would just have been easier to return to the village and drop the cart off first. It would be a lot of weight to travel with if it wasn't relevant to wherever they were going.

There was a sudden sternness in her eyes when she turned to face him after a short bit of walking. Yoshitsune gave a slight jump of surprise. It wasn't a feigned reaction, though he could have suppressed it if he wanted to. But he chose not to, instead allowing that to serve as half an answer in-and-of-itself. He had no problem with showing authenticity to others. "If I wanted to kill you I'd have done it already," he didn't state it as a threat, more just an observation of fact. His authenticity also meant he was blunt, sometimes even to the point of tactlessness. "What could you be afraid of showing me that you haven't already, mutt?" His tone was teasing, a little playful. If she was a mutt he was still willing to rely on her help anyway, something that some others in the village might have found distasteful. "Besides, if I'm late to dinner because I was wandering around in circles, my little sibling would skin me alive."
 
Her eyebrow raised quizzically at his blunt response. She was surprised at both his confidence to say such a thing to basically a stranger and the confidence it took to believe it. She was inclined to take him at his word though she had the sudden curiousity to test if his bravado was anything more than that. Suppressing these childish thoughts she sucked at her teeth given his second response. Her eyes softened, their sterness melting into something akin to wistful nostalgia.

"Home." She said the word gently, cradled it with her tongue so as to stop it from breaking against her teeth. "I'm building someplace where we-," she quickly corrected herself knowing this man knew nothing of Nanashi and she had no intention of changing that, "-I, can be free. No politics. No castes. No hateful gazes that follow me, trailing my footsteps and haunting me. A place where the broken can be fixed instead of discarded. A place where it's okay to be broken. I need your word, Yoshitsune. You'll never come to my home with ill-intent, no matter the situation. I can't risk it."

I won't risk Nanashi.
 
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